Torment Ended

Even back then, as small children playing, she was tormented by herself. Unsure, insecure, always afraid of being misunderstood. Filled with doubt, unhappy. An outcast in her family. She manifested her psychic pain in countless maladies. In and out of the hospital, a constant plea for attention, repair, correcting some terrible wrong. Her father had no patience for her insecurity. He would shout at her to "cut it out, Marion!" She couldn't, she didn't know how.

She sought a career in the medical world. Seeking solace through caregivers. But they gave her no peace. They ripped her apart, wrecked her body, inflicted pain. Butchers. Each cut of their knife another step toward endless decline. Still she remained loyal to their profession, despite the insult to her body and soul.

At one point, she tried to reach out to her family, to explain herself. Her attempts were met with derision, disgust. She withdrew. More neurosis - trying to backtrack on the attempt. Reverse the course. It was confusing to her, confusing to friends and family. And her personal torment continued unabated.

In 2001 her Mother died. A tragic turn for this daughter, so fragile and unsure. She could not consider the option of living without Mother. Completely distraught, she could just not let go. For months, she was mired in depression and angst. Family tried to coax her into the sunshine. But she preferred to replay recordings of her Mother's voice on her answering machine. Her last connection, her consolation for a lost and desperate soul.
It just could not be.

And then today, such tragic news, she took her life. She simply could not go on. A shock to all, but upon reflection, maybe not so shocking after all. Her torment is over, she is finally once and for all at peace. Her pain is over. The family's pain continues. So many unanswered questions.

Upon hearing the news this morning, I was immediately whisked back to those days we all played together in more innocent times. Cousins all close in age, spending countless hours at the Briarcliff pool, or watching Bonanza in the family room. Playing in the basement, drawing pictures on giant sheets of newsprint. And always, little Marion was unhappy, insecure, miserable, fearful, tentative, misunderstood, confused, tormented. Poor Marion, she never fit into this world.

Rest in peace, Marion.