Journal Excerpt - May 11, 2008. Through the bedroom window I see northeast wind
blow fuchsia petals from a tree. Spring is closing; summer is nearing. It was April 2002 when Sam and I came into contact again; she recently had moved into her mom’s house. We met at her crossroads, apparently to grant me access again to her life. I believe now it is for the purpose of sharing her story, though I’m not sure exactly how.
Where do you start sharing a story about someone who died? Do you start with their life or their death?
Samantha Kirsten Straight, born 9 May 1974, grew up to be a high-school teacher but was born a poet. Sam graced my life in two parts: the one when we knew each other for several years, and the second six months before she died. Despite being one year older than me, Sam always felt like a younger sister. The world lost Sam to suicide, and this “Breaking the Silence” column is about striving for wholeness/ balance/ wellbeing by learning from anyone “deemed” ill.
Photo: Samantha. Credit: family.
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