Shannon said... "How has love changed your life?"
Dear Kerry,
February 16, 1979 - Your Dad and I watched you take your first breath. One year later we enrolled you in waterbaby's, tossed you into a pool of blue water, and watched you swim.
At four (4) you recited your alphabet and earned your preschool certificate. That summer, with your father's gentle push, you learned to ride your bike. From then on there was no stopping you. Starting with T-Ball, Tennis and Karate, you even wiggled your way into a first place ribbon at your first and only breakdance contest.
At Julian Curtis school you set a record by completing 22 pull-ups. The record stood for 10 years. From then on it was a steady stream of sports. Swimming, basketball, football, wresting. And then of course there was BASEBALL, BASEBALL, BASEBALL.
On the sidelines was your biggest fan, your sister Lindsay. She cheered you on every step of the way. You, in return supported her with gentle love and kindness. Through her you learned to nurture, protect, cherish and adore.
At Central Middle School you began studying the viola and we were thrilled to see your musical side. Years later you confessed that your strings never touched the bow. Your only motivation was to accompany the orchestra on their year end field trip to Great Adventure.
Throughout the years we watched you learn and grow and mostly we watched you laugh. And when you laughed it was deep and hardy, from the belly of your soul.
When you found Mary, your true love, your "faith," life became sweet. Jackson's arrival brought and endless flood of joy to you and all those lucky enough to be near. And again we watched you nurture, protect, cherish and adore.
What we didn't hear or see was your pain. Your pain was never spoken, only written and never shared. You were intuitive and intelligent enough to hide your pain and deliver only what everyone wanted to hear. You gave people what they needed. You gave everything, every ounce of your existence. You gave too much.
For those who say they don't understand, know that depression is a disease. The conscious experience becomes an endless stream of distressing thoughts and emotions. Sadly, creative people are more vulnerable to depression.
From the childhood tales of the Velveteen Rabbit, to James Joyce's cryptic language in Finnegan's Wake, you loved to read. You were a deep thinker, a writer, a poet. Through writing you were able to escape.
At four (4) you recited your alphabet and earned your preschool certificate. That summer, with your father's gentle push, you learned to ride your bike. From then on there was no stopping you. Starting with T-Ball, Tennis and Karate, you even wiggled your way into a first place ribbon at your first and only breakdance contest.
At Julian Curtis school you set a record by completing 22 pull-ups. The record stood for 10 years. From then on it was a steady stream of sports. Swimming, basketball, football, wresting. And then of course there was BASEBALL, BASEBALL, BASEBALL.
On the sidelines was your biggest fan, your sister Lindsay. She cheered you on every step of the way. You, in return supported her with gentle love and kindness. Through her you learned to nurture, protect, cherish and adore.
At Central Middle School you began studying the viola and we were thrilled to see your musical side. Years later you confessed that your strings never touched the bow. Your only motivation was to accompany the orchestra on their year end field trip to Great Adventure.
Throughout the years we watched you learn and grow and mostly we watched you laugh. And when you laughed it was deep and hardy, from the belly of your soul.
When you found Mary, your true love, your "faith," life became sweet. Jackson's arrival brought and endless flood of joy to you and all those lucky enough to be near. And again we watched you nurture, protect, cherish and adore.
What we didn't hear or see was your pain. Your pain was never spoken, only written and never shared. You were intuitive and intelligent enough to hide your pain and deliver only what everyone wanted to hear. You gave people what they needed. You gave everything, every ounce of your existence. You gave too much.
For those who say they don't understand, know that depression is a disease. The conscious experience becomes an endless stream of distressing thoughts and emotions. Sadly, creative people are more vulnerable to depression.
From the childhood tales of the Velveteen Rabbit, to James Joyce's cryptic language in Finnegan's Wake, you loved to read. You were a deep thinker, a writer, a poet. Through writing you were able to escape.
May 27, 2002 your daily scheduled, e-mail Horoscope read:
Aquarius - be brave, be adventurous and boldly go where no man has gone before. Your ideas for heightening the joy quotient in you life should be taken seriously. You gave at the office. You've been a terrific contributor to others existences, but now you should shift the focus to that which floats your cork.
Aquarius - be brave, be adventurous and boldly go where no man has gone before. Your ideas for heightening the joy quotient in you life should be taken seriously. You gave at the office. You've been a terrific contributor to others existences, but now you should shift the focus to that which floats your cork.
All my love,
Mom
Kerry's Suicide Note Mary and I decided to include Kerry's suicide note because we know that there are many who are struggling with trying to understand the decision to choose death over life. We know we will never totally understand why, but we also know that we will never stop searching for answers.
I realize that I can't get mad at people when they don't understand. But it's not easy. I wish I was an alcoholic or a dopehead, but instead I was born suicidal. I have thought about killing myself since I was 12, the thoughts have always been there they never go away completely.
Mary and Jackson, you two helped so much. And Dad and Mom, I know you guys tried. You all gave me so much love, and I am very luck, and I love you all so much it hurts right now. It really hurts, but the love doesn't make it go away.
I am so sorry Mary and Jackson. You don't deserve this I really wanted to be a good dad and a good husband. It's all I ever wanted. I just wanted a family. I'm sorry baby. I'm really really sorry. It's not you please remember that. Please remember that you were the best thing that ever came to me. I believe that you came to help me, but I just can't be helped. You were the closest I've ever come to faith. I had faith in you, because you are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen or known. You make me believe in things, but I just can't believe in myself. I know though, that Jackson will live and be beautiful. I love you Mary. I love you Dad. I love you Mom. Please only tell Jackson the good things about me. I did have some good. I promise.
I love you All
I'm sorry that I could not handle
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1 comment:
I want anyone who is struggling with death over life to choose life.
I found that life in Jesus Christ and I pray that those struggling for answers may turn to Him in prayer. There is comfort in the arms of Jesus.
"For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord,
plans to prosper you and not to harm you,
plans to give you hope and a future.
Then you will call upon me and come and pray to me, and I will listen to you.
You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart.
I will be found by you, declares the Lord, and will bring you back from captivity."
Jeremiah 29:11-14...
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