When I was young, I had a great family. I had a mom and a dad. I had a brother that was seven years older named Dustin. I also had a sister that was older by five years named Marissa. Everything was fine, until it wasn’t.

Mom and dad fought all the time. It always frightened me when they were fighting. In the end, they decided to get a divorce.

Dad moved out and went to live with my grandparents in Marshall, while mom, Marissa, Dustin, and I stayed in our house in Battle Creek. Every other weekend I went to stay with dad. I didn’t like bouncing between houses but I had to.

It was the weekend of September 26 to September 28, 2008. It was dad’s weekend so he came and picked me up. I said goodbye to mom saying I’d see her Sunday.

Little did I know, that would be the last time I saw her.

Saturday, September 27, 2008.

Marissa and Dustin were staying with our Nana and Papa that weekend. They were going with Nana, Papa, and Aunt Kat to watch our younger cousin Brendan play soccer.

They needed warmer clothes, though, because it was colder than they had anticipated. Nana and Papa took them to the house to get the clothes.  

They didn’t send Marissa or Dustin in to get them; they went in themselves. Marissa’s room was upstairs, across from mine, while Dustin's was downstairs next to mom and dad’s. They split to the respected gender rooms to get the clothes.

I will never forget the way Nana described Papa’s scream.

She said it was a bone-chilling, blood-curdling scream.

Nana took the stairs as fast as she could, having had a knee replaced. That’s where she found Papa, clutching his chest in horror.

That’s when she saw what had made him scream.

Mom’s lifeless body hanging from the sewage pipe.

It was like a vacuum had sucked all the air out of her lungs. She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t move.

A chair laid knocked over and discarded by the dryer. It was almost too obvious what had happened, no matter how hard it was to believe.

I have always been thankful that they didn’t send my siblings in. My brother would have been the one to find her and I don’t think he would have ever been the same.

My dad, grandpa, cousin Cheyenne, and I had been out to breakfast at Denny’s when dad got the call. He had a short conversation with grandpa before he rushed off to our house.

I was confused. What 6 year old wouldn’t be? My dad had just rushed off to God knows where and I was being taken back to my grandparents without any explanation.

Grandma was watching the phone like a hawk, impatiently waiting for dad’s call. When he finally called, grandma brought me to Nana’s where everyone else was.

They were all sitting in the dining room in a circle. Everyone was crying; I didn’t understand why. When I asked what was wrong, my Aunt Lyndie told me mom had died. I didn’t understand what that meant; I don’t think anyone expected me to.

I don’t remember much after that. I remember that at the viewing everyone was crying. It was the first time I had ever seen my dad cry. I remember seeing mom and being confused why I couldn’t talk to her.

I remember having to sit and be quiet at the funeral. I remember grandpa taking Cheyenne and I somewhere because we were getting antsy.

The next couple of weeks were difficult. I had moved to live with my dad and grandparents in Marshall, meanwhile, I was still going to Lakeview. We had moved all of our things out of our old house.

I continued to go to Lakeview for about two weeks before dad talked to me. “How would you like to go to school with your cousin?” He had asked me. Of course, I was all for the idea. So I was switched to Marshall schools.

Dad and I continued to live with Grandma and Grandpa, not having found a place of our own yet. I loved living with them. I was able to spend so much more time with Grandma and Grandpa this way.

Every morning Grandma would take me to the end of the driveway to wait for the bus. She would always be waiting for me when I got off as well.

The next 3 months went this way until we finally found an apartment to live in. That meant that I had to start going to daycare as Grandma wouldn’t be there to watch me when dad had to go to work.

I went to a place called the Presbyterian. Every morning dad would drop me off before work. They would feed me breakfast and then we would all get on the bus to school. I would ride the bus back there after school and wait for dad to get out of work.

I always had fun there, but  I missed spending time with grandma. I also missed spending a lot of time with dad.

That summer I turned seven. It was around that time that things started to change. I started to miss mom more and more. There were a bunch of mother-daughter events that I couldn’t participate in unless I went with grandma. It always upset me.

About a year later, when I was eight, dad and I moved again. This time we were living in the duplexes next to Grandma and Grandpa’s house. I started going to a different daycare. Everything had changed again and I didn’t like it.

Then dad got a long time girlfriend named Heather. We moved to Pennfield with her and her son just before I turned 10.  She treated me horribly and the whole time. All I ever wished was that my mom was still here.

The next couple of years were even harder.

Mom missed Dustin graduating, which was the same year that I started middle school. That was hard. It was one of my first big milestones that mom missed.

Then Dad got another girlfriend, Anita, who moved in with us. She also had a son only this time he was already graduated and was in college.

She and dad broke up but she continued to live with us for around a year and a half. In that time I was unhappy and angry all the time. When she finally moved out I was a little happier, until dad got yet another girlfriend.

Janice.

This one was the worst of them all.

I was 13 and in eighth grade. She had a daughter, Allura. She was a year older than me but in the same grade. Janice and dad were always fighting; it brought me back to when mom and dad fought.

They would throw things and hit each other, but they never broke up. Finally, in May of the following year, they separated. But it ended with dad getting arrested.

That scared me. We had to stay with Grandma and Grandpa for about 3 weeks before we were able to go home.

That was one of the hardest years I’d had yet. Marissa graduated that summer, yet another thing mom missed.

That next fall, I started high school. It was hard knowing mom had missed my first day of high school. It made me realize how many other things she would miss.

My graduation.

My wedding.

My first child.

She would miss all of these things and I couldn’t do anything about it. That’s what hurts the most. I can’t do anything to change it.

She missed a lot for my siblings too. Marissa’s wedding. Dustin’s first and second child.  

She also missed my dad moving on. He got remarried. I was happy that he found someone, but at the same time, it hurt.

I know that Traci can never fill moms place; she never tries to. She is definitely the mom roll in my life, but she never tries to take my mom’s place in my life.

I still go out to the cemetery at least twice a year. I get pictures everytime I go. It has hardly changed since the day the headstone was put in.  

Now it is ten years later and it never seems to get easier. I always ask myself why it had to happen. Why did she have to leave so soon? Why didn’t I get to know her?

There is only one question that can never be answered. Why did she do it?

When I was six years old, my mom died of suicide.