On Tuesday, February 27, at 10:00 a.m., we will celebrate the life of
our nephew’s wife, Christina, at Sts. Simon & Jude Catholic Church in
Westminster.
Early on Sunday morning, January 21, we received a call from
Larry's brother, Casey, informing us that Christina, had died. Danny and
Christina were not married for long, but our family loved her very much.
She was thirty-five years old, a kind and generous soul, who
never turned away anyone in need. She would have given the shirt off her back
if she felt someone needed it more, even if it were her only one. She cared
deeply about people, especially her close friends, but her whole life revolved
around her eleven-year-old daughter, Savannah.
We all adore this child. She is smart, funny, well behaved,
and a terrific human being. Her mother deserves all the credit. The two of them
were inseparable.
Savannah wrote a complete fantasy novel. Her mother told us
about it on Thanksgiving Day, and I asked her to send it to me. Imagine my
surprise when I read it and found it was excellent. In fact, it is better than
some submissions I have received from the adults for whom I edit.
Savannah understands how to tell a story, how to create a
story arc, character arcs, tension, and suspense. She has an impressive grasp
of language and understands the value of dialogue. I went through the
manuscript and identified a few small issues, but for the most part, it was
well done.
Christina and Danny brought Savanna to our house one
day between Christmas and New Year’s, when Savannah was on semester break. She
stayed with us for a couple of hours while her folks went to the harbor. We discussed
my questions about the book. She was articulate and came up with good solutions.
I had promised her as part of her Christmas present I would help
her publish it. I intend to keep my promise.
Our greatest concern is the welfare of this wonderful little
girl. Unfortunately, our nephew's family has little say about what happens to
this precious child. We can do what we are asked and pray for the very best outcome.
Fortunately, she is currently living with her uncle and
aunt. We are impressed with them. They responded in a levelheaded manner and now
provide a stable environment for her. Her private school has waived tuition for
the rest of the school year, so she will have continuity in her education. Her father
will have custody, but he has granted her aunt and uncle temporary guardianship
through the school year.
All of us around her feel an obligation to her mother to
provide emotional support to her and to those around her. Christina had many
close friends, and they want to help in whatever way they can.
I identify emotionally with Savannah. I, too, lost a parent
as a child. I know how it feels to be set adrift without a rudder. I know about
the large hole a parent leaves in a child’s life. And I know it never goes
away.
Christina is gone far too young, and the rest of us around
Savannah owe it to her mother’s memory to provide a stable and supportive
environment for her child. Our hearts are broken for our nephew, Christina’s
family, and her daughter. We feel helpless, and we would like to help in some
way.
Right now, we’re taking one day at a time and doing whatever appears for us to do.
Have you ever had to deal with the death of a young person?
Did you find anything of help? If so, what?
Nothing helps. Except MAYBE time. You already know that. The one piece of advice I have is not to let people suppress their feelings. "Don't cry! Don't cry in public! Don't embarrass yourself! Be brave!" These are misguided commands to a young person who has lost a parent. The screaming and running down the street helps a lot, too. I send my prayers and wishes for strength to the family--all of you, but especially the daughter. She has a really tough road before her.
ReplyDeleteI so agree. My mother didn't grieve, so we weren't allowed to do so either. Thirty years later, we finally cried together. As an adult and parent, I understood much better. It took everything she had to put on e foot in front of the other and keep going. She had no room for grieving.
DeleteAnd you're right. Time helps--a little. You don't "get over it" ever. But you can get through it.