"If I kill myself, then I can be with Daddy forever," Jessica said.
I felt exactly the same...wanting to die.
"I understand how much you miss Daddy, but you can't kill yourself." I sadly looked my 7 year old's wishful face next to me.
She quietly stared ahead again as if in deep thought. "Well... what if someone else kills me? That would be a good idea."
Her attempt to scheme such an outlandish plot startled me.
"No," Nicole piped up from the back seat. "You can't do that either, because if you want to die and you make that happen, it's still a very bad sin."
My heart ached for Jessica, understanding her yearning to leave this world and go on to the next.
At 34 years old, in my first year of widowhood, it was hard to imagine, that I'd ever feel truly happy again. Life went on. One day at a time. It never stopped. Then one day I woke up and I didn't want to die anymore. I wanted to live. Life was never going to go back to the way it was. It was time to go forward. It was time to make something good out of something tragic. It was time to realize that it wasn't about me. Life became more about my children and about helping others.
As the years unfolded, we found our happy days again. I started college at the age of 37 to become a social worker. It took me another 13 years to complete my master's degree, but I did it. (See pictures) I also found another wonderful man to remarry 2 years ago. My children are happy and pursuing their own dreams. I'm pretty sure they don't want to die any time soon! I'm just as happy now than I ever was. And when I think of my first husband...I smile. He made me very happy during the 17 years that I knew him. I feel blessed that we had that time together.