Brave Enough To Be Bliss

and didn’t know where to turn. On Sunday afternoon, I sent John a panicked text that probably didn’t make any sense but must have sounded desperate enough that he said he’d come right over. And he literally arrived within a few minutes, the advantage of living only a couple blocks away. He stood in my kitchen while I sat at the island, and he asked me a lot of questions and talked me through everything over the next couple hours. By the time he left, I had gained perspective on the situation and felt like I could go on. He helped me see that I had let guilt for not knowing something was so seriously wrong, fear about what could happen, and immense pain take away any sense of confidence I had as her mother. I was responding with fear to absolutely everything that was going on around me instead of paying attention to what was inside of me, listening to what my heart and soul were telling me. I was so deeply fearful of losing her, I wasn’t doing everything I could to try to help her live. And it was then when I knew without a doubt, he at leas t cared deeply for me as a human being, and it appeared he might know me better than I knew myself. He reminded me that I was a good mom, not a perfect mom, but a good one. And that it was about time I went back to being the one who advocates for her, isn’t afraid to do what’s best for her even if it makes her mad, and who isn’t about to let her go down without a fight. He saw through the text into my pain, and he didn’t run away from it but instead ran right over into the heart of it, and in doing so, secured a place in my heart forever. Her dad, stepmother and I talked and jointly decided we were stepping in and getting a plan in place that included Kylee coming home whether she wanted to or not. That certainly didn’t ensure she couldn’t kill herself, but it would ensure I could monitor if she was going to therapy appointments, going to school, studying, eating, and sleeping. It was something and at that point, doing something felt so much better than continuing to be helpless responding to a situation that seemed to be deteriorating rapidly. Her dad and stepmother flew in from Chicago, friends brought their truck and extra muscle, and we all pulled together to get her moved out of the apartment. At home she would have a bedroom upstairs and the room on the first level was where we put her TV, desk and couch, so she could still have some space that would be hers. The next day her dad, stepmother, my dad, Kylee and I all celebrated with a delicious Thanksgiving dinner. I couldn’t have been more thankful for her dad and stepmother coming to Kansas City and for the experience of all of us being able to share that day together. It may not have looked the same or felt exactly the same as years ago, but Kylee had her new family gathered around her and lots more of her extended family all loving her from a distance. While the actual holiday may have felt miserable, this day of thanksgiving truly was a celebration because we had hope and a plan.

“As we express our gratitude, we must never forget that the highest appreciation is not to utter words, but to live by them .” John F. Kennedy

When Kylee was young and we joined the golf club, she participated on the swim team and that gave us the opportunity to meet a very kind family, the Harrell’s. They had two children, Chad and Melanie, who were

teammates of Kylee’s . I remember thinking her kids were so cute and polite, and knew Kylee liked them. While they grew up, I can still picture their sweet little faces and their matching red and black swimsuits. Anytime I was at the club, I felt the same as that one night I went to the PTO meeting. However, Sylvia Harrell was one of two ladies I met there who I actually felt somewhat safe around. During swim meets, I was particularly uncomfortable because everyone was right there , so close together sitting and standing around the pool. I didn’t really know anyone well and if it happened to be a time where my husband couldn’t be there right at the start, it was particularly distressing. Even if no one actually looked at me when I walked by, I felt their

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