Today is hard....Rob says I'm overthinking...more than likely. So, today I write to you. As I said, I'm an external processor so writing a journal, to myself, isn't my cup of tea. I like to process with you...all of you.
But, I don't have the energy to have the same conversation with my community. The spectators in my story.
Some of you are from my childhood...Applegate, Oregon. My family.
Some of you from my childhood, teen and child-raising village.
Some of you from my next chapter; Montana.
Some from so many aspects of my life; kids, school board, summer theater, childhood, high school, parents, school board, childrearing, church...I can't list the ways we are connected.
The hard thing is, I can't tell you Andrea's story, I can only tell you mine. I need to be careful of that.
I'm going to try and figure out Andrea's story, and I can't. She reminded me of this about 8 months ago as I was struggling with what I had done, or not done, that led her into this struggle. In anger, she responded with, "It's not about you Mom!!!"
As a mother, I can't comprehend how to separate my children's struggles from my own. How can it not have been my fault? My responsibility? But, she told me. And she was right. Her story is about her. And I don't know her story in the sense of her, but I do know her story intertwined in mine. Because my story, is so much about Andrea. My story is about David, and Michael, and Cassie and Kaylee, and Little Bean...and Rob...and all of you.
Fonda gave me the book, "A Grace Disguised" by Jerry Sittser. She and I are going to start it this weekend. Anyway, he is a professor at Whitworth. I emailed him. He sweetly asked me to tell him about Andrea. This is what I wrote.
Andrea was a rare one. She has two older brothers, and yet, I waited for my little girl. She was the youngest, 7 years younger than David, and 4 years younger than Michael. A treasured girl...and Michael's best friend. I always had to sit David between those two....She was my strong-willed one, but at age 5 decided following the rules benefitted her far more than breaking them. She made her mistakes...always weighing the cost first. When she choose to choose wrong, she carried the guilt heavily. Yet, she was always confident, kind and solid. Her brothers succeeded at everything they did, and she had to keep up and pass them. She set her mind to something and did it. She planned ahead, and made things happen. Her senior year she was homecoming queen, salutatorian, softball catcher, worked, and volunteered to clean the church. I told her...honey...your servant's heart is convicting....She loved Jesus always...gave grace freely, yet now I see she didn't forgive herself easily.
Depression hit her hard and fast around December 2019. She checked herself into a hospital twice in the last 8 months. We saw her struggle but were helpless to fix it...She asked me once, "But I was your most difficult child to raise right?" I laughed. I asked her, "what house did you live in? You were by far the easiest" She actually replied, "but that one time I was so mean to you and dad when I yelled at you."
"Yes, that one time Sweet Pea...one time...."
She earned herself $250,000 in scholarships to Whitworth...and we are middle-class white America...no financial aid. She did that...we had an agreement. She asked me her senior year, "Mom, can you just keep my schedule this last year, and I will do all the college things."
Deal.
She did it. She was kind. She was loving. Everyone who knew her felt they were her best friend.
She was a camp counselor at Camas Meadows Bible Camp. She and her brother baptized campers together.
She loved Jesus with her whole being.
When she put herself in the hospital the first time, last March, she told me that she did it for me...she knew how much I would hurt if she took her life.
She put herself back in October 10.
Saturday before the left she told me, "I think I might make it Mom."
Sunday, she led worship at Shiloh Hills Fellowship.
I watched it. She was worshiping.
Then Monday, the darkness must have hit.
Her friend talked to her Tuesday and Andrea said, "I don't want to go back to the hospital."
Wednesday, she took her life.
We knew her struggle....she was fighting. We were checking in. She was seeing counselors- two of them. She was on medication. She was trying to find a culprit for the darkness. There was nothing any of us could have done. She knew she was loved. She had a constant string of texts....always...of the people in her communities; back home in Leavenworth, Shiloh Church, her brothers, friends.
She was submerged in a darkness that was too much. I don't understand....
I know God will use this...buy why us?
She was so loved...she loved so much...
Thank you for listening....
She loved Lime green. We call her Andi Pandi. She sings like an angel. When she dances you see her heart. Her first dancing was while we led worship, and she was a toddler dancing in the aisles...She laughs at doo-doo and burps better than the boys. She out-squatted the high school football quarterback in the weight room (she was a cheerleader...it was awesome). Her laugh was huge.
She listened...she loved....and now she is gone....
He replied with this....
"I do remember Andrea now, mostly in worship."
Of course he remembered her in worship...she worshipped completely.
I will end with the words of encouragement he gave me...because I don't have any of my own to give....
"May God give you grace and resilience in the months and years ahead to carry Andrea with you, both in grief but also in joy and gratitude. Her death is a great mystery. None of us will ever be able to crawl into her mind and understand the suffering she faced.
This much I know. God is merciful. He looks at the whole life, not simply one moment of time. He loved Andrea. He still does. Now every tear has been dried, every darkness bathed in light, every point of anguish enveloped by grace." -Jerry Sittser.