BY HER OWN HAND


I knew her slightly

short, pretty

with that stunning combination of big blue eyes

and dark brown hair

pleasant

Mom of two girls

wife of a truck driver


someone who came to our neighborhood parties

bearing huge platters of deviled eggs.


So when I heard that she shot herself

in her back yard

and that thank the good Lord her neighbor discovered it

before her kids got home from school

I was shaken to my roots.


All day I thought about it.


So many questions.


What thoughts went through her mind

that drove her to death?


Could anything really be so terrible

that you would choose never to make

another deviled egg

or kiss your kids

or say Hi to your husband

again?


Could you love your children

and yet take the chance that they might find you

head blown apart

outside on the grass

where they played?


What was she thinking that morning

as she got the kids up and out to school

washed the breakfast dishes?



Was she excited about her plan?

Angry?

Depressed?


A cold wind blew through my soul

because I had felt the sticky long black fingers

of depression

so it could have been me.


That night we all gathered at Gwyn's house

after the kids were in bed

and the men helped Malcolm cover the pool

for winter

not laughing or joking like they usually did


and us ladies got out hotdog buns

and started the grill

and brought over leftover pies and cakes

with pieces missing


and we sat around on lawn chairs

and Marilyn said

"She never learned how

to make the best of things.

She was always unhappy.

She thought she deserved more than she got."


And Gladys said

"True, but bless her heart

I felt the need to pray for her all day today."


I looked over at Larry

pulling the pool cover tight

adjusting the rope

not looking at me

never looking at me


not loving me.


But even though I was often lonely

with that deep starved loneliness

of an unloved woman


and even though I knew my children

were not perfect angels

because Adam was a handful

and Amy always wanted her way

and Annabelle had a sassy mouth on her


and even though my dreams

of being a busy happy fulfilled preacher's wife

working for the Lord

hadn't come true


and I was just a lower-middle-class lady

with nothing going for me

but being a wife and mother


still

I was so happy and thankful

to be sitting out under the moon

on this dark cool fall night

smelling blackened hotdogs

wondering if anybody had sliced up any onions


and alive.





Music Playing: Shooting Star
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