Cause of death

This particular subject has been on my mind for quite a few days. My husband and I discussed it and while we felt the following needed to be said, we were afraid to send a different message. I've prayed about this post and I keep feeling pushed to write it.


For starters, this is not about my daughter's cause of death. We do not know it. We plan on not finding out. When they call with the results, the only thing I want to know is if it is something that could happen to my boys. That is it. Knowing her cause of death won't bring me peace. It won't bring her back. It won't change anything. She will still be gone and my heart will still be torn into a million pieces. My sweet daughter died peacefully in her sleep. There are numerous ways she could have died in her sleep. Knowing won't bring her back.


One of the first things I'm asked is what happened. I usually respond with something in regards to her passing in her sleep. One would think that should be the end of the conversation but people keep asking if we know HOW she died. My question back to them is "Does it really matter?" Because to me it doesn't. The only thing that matters is that she is no longer here with me. One of the other things that is often asked in hushed tones is if it was suicide. The answer to that is no. But why is it asked in hushed tones? What is our fascination with cause of death? We scroll the internet when a celebrity dies or we question friends and loved ones when we hear about the death of a neighbor or child in the community because of a morbid curiosity.


My bigger question is, why do we rule how a child or person should be remembered or memorialized based on their cause of death? We revere the child that battled cancer but lost. We grieve the child that died in a car accident. We demand change for the death of someone to gun violence. But when it comes to suicide, we whitewash it. When it comes to suicide we blame the schools or the parents or the community or the person that committed suicide. We say they made a choice to end their life. But did they? Did the child that had cancer ask for cancer and death? Did the mother that died of breast cancer ask for her breasts to get the cancer and die? No, of course not. The person that committed suicide didn't make that choice either. Their brain made that choice. Their brain that is sick made that choice. Imagine breaking your leg and someone telling you the only way to fix is it to run a marathon. Or imagine having a sore throat and being told to sing an opera in order to fix it. Because that is how we are treating our brain. We are expecting the part of our body that is injured and broken to make the decision to get help or fix it.


Suicide has become such a common occurrence these days. Famous people and others throughout the country. When a student commits suicide, the school makes it go away. There are no memorials or dedications or pages in the yearbook. The school fears that by addressing the issue, it will cause other teenagers to think it is a way to get attention and then attempt suicide themselves. They claim that the child was selfish and they made that choice. Funny, I've never heard of a child losing a friend to cancer and then wishing they could have cancer for the attention. Instead of addressing it, we are ignoring it. We place such a stigma on mental health and suicide that people don't want to get help. They have shame and fear. Not to mention, the sick part of their body, the brain, is the one that is responsible for getting that help.


There is a Garth Brooks song called "Pushing Up Daisies" that I have thought of often these last 5 weeks. The chorus goes:

There's two dates in time

that they'll carve on your stone

And everyone knows what they mean

What's more important is the time that is known

In that little dash there in between

Why are we so concerned about the cause of death? Why does it matter? To me, the thing that matters most is that little dash there in between. What did you do with your life? Catherine lived her life to the fullest. She was brave and sometimes incredibly fearless while being terribly insecure. She played as many instruments as I would buy her. She worked hard at everything she did. She never met a stranger. She loved hard. She adored her siblings. She loved her family. She had the voice of an angel. She sang in choir at church, the choir at school, she was involved in drama club, she was in band, she had a list of colleges she wanted to attend, she had a pinterest board with prom dresses, she loved politics and wanted to make a change in the world. Her cause of death doesn't change any of those things. She was born in 2001 and died in 2017 but it is what she did in those 16 years that matter.

As another mother is inducted into the club that no one wants to be a member of, I ask that you focus on the dash in between for her daughter. What did she do from the day she was born until the day that she died? Does her cause of death negate all those things? The answer is no. There is still a child that is gone too soon with parents that are wrecked with grief. And guilt. And anger. Do you think that pressing on about the cause of death is going to make it better? God no. It only adds to the guilt and grief.

Today, our local social media pages were abuzz with comments about this child's death. My child was lumped in as well. According to these keyboard warriors, there is an epidemic of suicide. There is an epidemic of bullying. Parents and teachers and students should be held responsible. Because there is an epidemic. There is no epidemic of suicide and seeing my daughter spoken of by strangers infuriated me. I was fiercely protective of my daughter when she was alive and I'm fiercely protective of her in death. They are demanding that the local news channels get involved to address this suicide epidemic. Great. Because every grieving mother wants strangers digging into her personal life and shoving a camera in her face. It caused real panic. This is all based on cause of death, a morbid curiosity that only fulfills our own needs.

If you want to help, great. There are ways to help. Donate money for the funeral expenses. Take food, drinks, mow a yard, hiring a cleaning service to come over in about 5 weeks when she realizes her house is disgusting because when you are barely keeping your head above water, cleaning is the last thing on your mind. Talk with the parents about the dash in between. Share her memories. Praise her existence while she was on this earth. Love on the family. Drop off flowers in a few weeks when all the funeral flowers have died. That is how you help. Jumping on social media and becoming a keyboard warrior for social change isn't helping. It makes it worse.

So in the coming days, get off the damn local pages. Reach out to someone in need. And work to give up on this morbid fascination with cause of death. Because at the end of the day, does it really matter? What matters is that little dash there in between.