A blazing flame slowly dies in a night as cold as snow. From the ashes a Phoenix will rise – it will spread its wings and blaze again and the world will watch in terror.
A tree stands tall, unshakeable in disaster, with leaves that feed and a trunk that houses things that are large and small, from the lions resting in its leaves to the mice that every bird is after, and thorns that wrap around this tree as it loves and must protect it all. The tree that has been through storm and fire will watch as it stops danger in his tracks and fill the forest with powerful laughter.
A tidal wave races to land as anger from the broken earth surges through the city in its wake. Salty water fills what once was home to a beach pristine with its white sand. Concrete jungle, horrible and strong, your walls are beginning to break. The creatures that destroy its castle are now drowning in its tears. Water will heal if you show it respect, but woe it brings in oppression.
A wind from four corners will push on still – tornadoes and hurricanes do not stop for lesser things. You can track and prepare but you cannot break its unstoppable iron will. Yet only days before, a soft breeze gently embraced the leaves and refuse from the Sun’s sting. It is no fault but their own, taking for granted and taking advantage of something they do not know – of something they will fail to control. So, the wind sounds a warning of a storm on the roll.
A roar charges through a burning world as a warrior departs. The pounding of horses running and the power of thunder rumbling. Rubber on asphalt spins and burns as those four doors carry weary hearts, heavy. Hearts that move, hearts that love and hearts that have been through too much. This world hurts what is afraid of, yet the strong ones have made struggle an art. So, bring on what you have – just try and stop them. When you push them, they will be ready!
Leave it to my daughter to bring one of the greatest and most impactful treasures of my journey thus far into my world this weekend. Unbeknownst to me, Gia had stumbled upon Charles Mackesy, a few months back, and has been literally clinging to his mindsets like a buoy in the dead of night. While I was out working yesterday, she spent the afternoon with some friends at the mall, which led her to Barnes & Noble, and thus the latest and greatest discovery of my life! Mackesy is a creative, empathetic, and insightful muse, and the words he has impeccably strung together are magical. My daughter and I have now tattooed these mindsets that we’ve already shared for so long onto our hearts forever. This book and its wisdoms are our life song, the depths of our realities, and exactly “who we are and what we aspire to be”. Do yourself a favor and gift this book to yourself or someone you love for Christmas. Don’t just download it, though. You simply HAVE to buy the book, hold the book, see the pictures, and touch the pages in order for it to work its magic! It will, perhaps, be the kindest “kindness” you’ll have ever shown yourself and perhaps even the beginning of your own journey “home”.
In the meantime, Dear GOD,please tell me that I’m right and that HE has finally made it Home. It’s all he ever really wanted. It’s all I’ve ever wanted. It’s all ANY of us have ever wanted … to just get HOME.
In order to fully appreciate these videos, first travel back with me a bit. If only I’d known how “one little moment in October” was going to play out and become such an important part of our journey I’d have kept better record of the exact date and time. But alas …
“AUGUST 22, 2019“. Sufficed to say, there are still so many parts of “that night” and what led up to it that most people don’t know, don’t need to know, and quite frankly, may NEVER know, simply because so much of this nightmare has traumatized Gia in ways that will impact her psyche forever. She has so much to process through that I simply cannot explain and her road to recovery is not going to be easy.
That being said, and as some of you already know, she had to be hospitalized for suicidal thoughts and depression of her own that night. Meanwhile, at just around 10:30 in the morning on August 23, 2019, I stepped outside her room for just a minute only to see the Parker police chief walking up the hallway towards me with “that look on his face” thatI already knew what he was going to say, but then the words:
Mrs. Williamson, we did locate your husband in his car this morning with a self-inflicted gunshot wound to the head. I am so sorry to inform you that he is, in fact, deceased.
… at which point I fell to the ground with a guttural wail that I’m told could be heard throughout the hospital. An hour later, she was taken by ambulance from the ER to in-patient treatment where she stayed for the eight longest days of my life.
Very long and tragic story short? My daughter has suffered! Of course, we both have, but her heart is broken in ways and pieces that I can’t even begin the fathom. After “that night”, with the exception of the pure happiness she was feeling on the first day at her new school, MY DAUGHTER COULD NOT SMILE! She’d been broken in too many ways by too many people to count for so many years ahead of “that night” that by the time he went and left us the way he did, she was DONE with smiling, and understandably so.
Meanwhile, last year when we moved to Parker we noticed this “holiday house” near ours. You know, “one of those houses” where the homeowners go completely overboard in all the right ways to make passers by drive past SMILING and leave filled with holiday joy and spirit! Well, these “holiday house” people even decked their halls for Halloween, which by the way, is Gia’s favorite holiday of all!
The displays they put out each season are absolutely incredible and only God Himself knows how much time they must spend putting them together. They’re synced up with a local radio station, the character boards dance and sing with lights, lights, and more lights everywhere! Last year, all three of us must driven by both displays at least a dozen times, and Zack and Gia had been looking so forward to seeing what they were going to put out this year.
So that with, I’ll go ahead and get to the point. This October, Gia and I were on our way home when lo and behold, “the Halloween display was up”! But she was so downtrodden and her was spirit still so broken, that as we approached their house (which is situated on the corner of a thoroughfare we pass by to get home every single day) she didn’t even glance at it. Her elbow was resting on the door with her chin in hand and she was just … silent. Still, I decided to make the turn and stop in front of the display anyway, thinking, “what could it hurt”. Well am I ever glad I did!
As we sat there watching the digital monsters doing their little dance and the light display just a rollin’ and poppin’, I caught a glimpse at the side of her face and I just about started to cry. No, wait! I did cry! SHE WAS SMILING! For the first time in SO LONG … SHE WAS SMILING! It was probably one of THE best nights I’ve had since this nightmare started, and my words just fail to do it justice. When we got home, and although she still can’t really talk about or hear his name at this point, we both agreed:
Dad would have loved that!
I gotta tell ya, folks … that moment was a true “light in the dark”. It was that little glimmer of hope that somehow, somewhere, buried beneath all her trauma, heartache, and ashes is not just my daughter, but all the beautiful memories of her and her dad that she can’t afford to let surface at this point because they’re just too fucking painful.
A couple of weeks after “the night of the lights”, I was sitting in my office and I started thinking to myself:
Those people put SO much of themselves into those displays every season, and THIS season that display just bought your kid the smile of a lifetime! I wonder if anyone has really ever thanked them for pouring themselves into “strangers” the way they do?
… at which point I made the decision to drop them a little gift and a thank you note for what they unknowingly did for my daughter. Not too long after that and I got a friend request on Facebook. IT WAS HER … “the holiday house lady!” Slowly but surely she’s becoming less and less of a stranger and a couple of nights ago she messaged me to let me know that they were going to do something special for Gia, which is what these videos are about. So, with all that being said …
Dearest “Barri and Gerri”:
I CANNOT THANK YOU ENOUGH!
My heart is beyond full, so is my daughter’s, and I’m pretty flipping sure my husband’s is too, because I believe with EVERY shred of my being that he is seeing ALL of this! I bet you never realized what an impact your hearts, generosity, and kindness for STRANGERS was going to make on my little girl during her very darkest hours. WELL, NOW YOU KNOW!“Only Light Can Kill The Darkness” is the tag-line of my life now, and YOUR lights have killed some of ours! You will always be in my heart and prayers going forward.
Last night, I stumbled upon the “memory” of a post I’d made on Facebook four years prior, December 8th, 2015. It was in reference to an annual visit I’d made to my daughter’s grave to deliver her Christmas flowers, and ironically, take a wild guess what I did yesterday afternoon? I made the annual visit to my daughter’s grave to deliver her Christmas flowers. This was what I’d posted:
I held an angel in my arms for 4.25 hours, who left my world as swiftly as she entered it, thus bestowing me the privilege of seeing her very first breath, and then her very last. When her heart stopped, so did mine, for what seemed like an eternity, and in that moment I just knew that all the Light from my soul had slipped with hers forever. Quite certainly I was wrong though, because I am still right here, with a shining heart filled with joy and peace that has healed where I never knew it was broken. You see, I am a woman who was blessed in the presence of two dearly departed at the moment their mortal shackles were released, not the least of which was my precious daughter as my hands gave her right back to Heaven. It took a minute, plus twenty twisted years, but I’ve since found the words “all is well” to be so much more than endearing. For both of them survive with me in every shadow before and behind, and I feel their presences fervently locked in the deepest chasms of my mind. I never got to hear her voice, yet I recognize it clearly, and his are the chords that fill my heart with memories, joy, and laughter. Perhaps the greatest of my bittersweet Earthly triumphs was that moment I realized I was speaking of, writing about, and taking flowers to their graves without a single shed of tear, reveling in the truth that in their crossing my God had not forsaken me, but had all the while been sowing the seeds of my truly blind faith, and granting my greatest freedom. While of course I don’t delight at the thought of our next inevitable relation, no longer do I fear Him. He’s but an Enigma who in one strange paradox both enlightens and ceases my need to comprehend. For in all my years living broken and whole at once, I’ve learned to grieve with hope, all is truly well, and I am fully awake.
Meanwhile, here I am, having danced with Death yet again at what seems a lifetime later. Do you know what has changed in my relationship with either God or Death since my husband’s sudden departure?
NOT A SINGLE THING!
As I was driving to the cemetery yesterday, I was concerned as to how I would handle it, especially in that not a year has passed since Zack came into my life that I’ve gone there on my own. He stood beside me through everything, and never could I have imagined standing at her grave alone. Yet, as I walked towards her resting place, the most beautiful breeze washed over me. I swear to God I felt so at peace! No tears. No trauma. No aching in my heart or knot in my stomach. Just solace. I knelt down, put the flowers in her vase, took the deepest breath I could, and slowly released it back into an atmosphere that I’m certain they were present in – my first born daughter, “my blaze of glory“, and now, the one true love of my life!
Their deaths have neither broken, nor stolen from or vanquished me, and everything they were is stillevery wonderous thing I am. They’ve but “slipped away into the next room” with others I’ve lost along the way, and they’ll all be waiting for me when I get There. They continue to survive with me in every shadow before and behind with their presences forever locked inside what are now the even deeper chasms of my mind. The precious ensemble of their voices perpetually fills my heart with memories, joy, and laughter.
As I write this, I still marvel at my triumph. Yes, I am able to speak of them, write about them, and take flowers to their graves without a single shed of tear. Yes, I do continue to revel in the truth that in their crossing my God has not forsaken me. He only continues sowing the seeds of my even stronger blind faith, making me the truly freest woman I’ve ever known. While I still do not delight at the thought of our next inevitable relation, never will I fear Him … the Enigma who in one strange paradox continues to enlightenme while ceasing my need to comprehend. It’s been a long fifty years living broken and whole at once, but I continue to grieve with hope, with my eyes upon The Cross, and all remains truly well.
THE ANSWER
The lightning flashed as angels rode fiery chargers through the clouds. That answer scared me into tears and all the grownups laughed out loud. Now the years roll on, tired voices have all gone. Now they ride their thunder through the heavens. There’s a world in every drop of rain. Embracing oceans sweep us home again. Come along with me, come along with me. Seek the truth, you shall not find another lie. They say for every living thing there’s a guide up in the sky that helps you pass from world to world, so you never really die. Then with scythe and cloak Death comes waltzing to your side. As the visions pass you ask if there was meaning to your life. As you strain to hear the answer, spirits sing and devils fiddle as he bends to whisper in your ear, he leaves you one more riddle. Oh, the answer lies beyond the pain. All the questions in our minds, we surely ask in vain. Come along with me, come along with me. Seek the truth, and you shall find another life. And now my life is like a storm growing stronger every day. Like the unrelenting wind that comes to blow our lives away. So, I live each day like I know it’s my last. If there is no future, there must be no past. Now I know the answers never meant a thing and with each instant that I breathe I feel the joy that life can bring. Come along with me, come along with me. Seek the truth, you shall not find another lie. Come along with me, come along with me. Seek the truth, you shall not find another lie. {Richie Sambora}
FOOTNOTE:
“Death Is Nothing At All” when it comes to our fur babies, too.
... turning up the music, slippin’ on her black dress, saying “you can do this”. Climbing in the front seat, looking out the window, going through the motions, trying just to let go of the tears that she cried, no solid goodbye. Tonight it ain’t gonna show. And even though she knows that it ain’t gonna fix it, she’s putting on her lipstick.
So, guess what I’m doing today? EVERYTHING DULY NOTED ABOVE!
Twenty something years ago I was sitting in the first Bible study I’d ever been to after I’d finally met Jesus in my dear friend’s living room, and I will never forget the first time I heard the words …
These lonely hours like a fire refining, something that’s precious, something that’s shining. There in the darkness surrounded by coals, it’s starting to glow … and I think I see gold!
Yes. Yes, I do think I see gold in all this fire! Actually? I don’t just think it … I KNOW IT!
I THINK I SEE GOLD
I see you struggling every day. You think, How long Can I go on this way? On and on, again and again. Oh when will it end? You think, “I just can’t go on much longer”. But inside my friend your faith is growing stronger! You feel the fire burning deep in your soul. But I want you to know – that I see gold! I think I see gold in the fire! Right there in the ashes is all you’ve desired. Oh, it’s hard as you press toward the goal. Don’t give up. Don’t give in. Don’t stop now. I think I see gold! Until this moment you’ve always believed when life grew darkest by faith you could see. Open your eyes – look for The Light. You see? You were right. These lonely hours like a fire refining something that’s precious. Something that’s shining! There in the darkness surrounded by coals is starting to glow.
No, but seriously. There will be no apologies whatsoever for my breakout “verbal vomit” moment of truth. As you will clearly see with the birth of The Real Cat Williamson, my many “secrets” will make me sick no longer. I’m a beast! I’m a warrior! I’m a motivator! I’M A SURVIVOR! From this day forward, I’m GOING to be show up and live a life of use to others! And oh, by the way …
Dear Angelina,
THANK YOU for inspiring ME to “live a life of use to others”. I listen to your Jean Hershold Award speech often and have made my daughter listen as well. None of this will really have meant anything if I leave here without having done just that, so, that’s what I’m gonna do! You truly are one of my very few hero’s, and not because of “who” you are, but “what” you are. You’re a “Warrior. Motivator. SURVIVOR;”! Someday, I will hopefully be able to meet and thank you in person.
… that moment you get this call from a friend whose son has been openly and actively talking about suicide:
Cat, someone just basically told me that I shouldn’t take him seriously, that I need to toughen up with him, and he’s probably NOT really going to do it. In your opinion, and based upon your own experiences of having both tried it and survived it with Zack, do you think I should believe her?
I’m literally beside myself right now. Really? Are you fucking KIDDING me? Suicide is DEAD serious, and yes, I do care if one more light goes out.
ONE MORE LIGHT
Should’ve stayed. Were there signs I ignored? Can I help you not to hurt anymore? We saw brilliance when the world was asleep. There are things that we can have, but can’t keep. If they say, “who cares if one more light goes out” in a sky of a million stars. It flickers, flickers. “Who cares when someone’s time runs out” if a moment is all we are? We’re quicker. Quicker. “Who cares if one more light goes out?” Well I do. The reminders pull the floor from your feet. In the kitchen, one more chair than you need. Oh, and you’re angry, and you should be, it’s not fair. Just ’cause you can’t see it, doesn’t mean it isn’t there. {Linkin’ Park}
There have been very few people in my half a century of life who have been worthy of the title “hero”, as that word tends to be overused a bit and I aspire to be “impeccable” with my words. If I don’t mean it, I won’t say it, and “hero” must truly be earned. Anyone who chooses a path that involves walking out the door each day not knowing if they’ll be coming home? Now that would be a hero!
I have long been thankful that I wasn’t born a man, and have prayed incessantly for the men I’ve known and loved. Generally speaking, men are birthed to an existence wherein everything is expected of them. The entire weight of everyone’s world, including the weight of their own, is laden upon their shoulders from the cradle to the actual grave. Whereas, generally speaking, American women have choices. Society now allows us to be whoever we choose to be. Go to college, don’t go to college. Get married, don’t get married. Be a full-time wife and mother, opt to have a career, or both. We aren’t “expected” to be anything other than what we were created for, and yes, there’s a double standard.
I have never understood why some people are lucky enough to be born with the chance that I had, to have this path in life, and why across the world there’s a woman just like me, with the same ability, and the same desires, same work ethic and love for her family … only she sits in a refugee camp, and she has NO voice. She worries about what her children will eat, how to keep them safe, and if they’ll EVER be allowed to return home. I don’t know why this is my life, and that’s hers.
I’m not gonna lie, I’ve been handed some pretty rough cards as of late, but guess what? So have we all! Meanwhile, I do have too many options to count as a blessed and extremely privileged woman. Though my future may not be what I was planning 81 days ago, it can still be anything I choose, because you signed up to pay in part for my American dream!
It’s Veteran’s Day 2019, and some of us don’t take our freedom for granted. As a woman who’s often been chastised for my antiquated views on gender roles, today is especially important. I’m an American woman in my American home with an American voice bought and paid for by an American soldier. Please know that you are held in the absolute highest regard on not just this, but every day. Indeed, you have lived “a life of use to others”, and indeed YOU ARE MY HERO!
A Frog married a Butterfly with only two silver bands in a theatre room in Murphy, Texas, then carried her over the threshold of his one-bedroom apartment where they would sleep on a pull-out couch so that her daughter could have the bedroom.
That King sat in a builder’s office for six long hours, driving us all bananas over every intricate detail of how perfect he wanted this house for “his girls”, and specifically so that Gia could have a place for her crew to crash throughout her high school years. He wanted our home to be a place they could all be comfortable, loved, and accepted, with no fear of judgement whatsoever. He wanted her to have everything he never did.
… because The Princess and I have made the decision to stay in this home he built for us until at least she graduates from high school, if not permanently. Part of me is thinking that eventually I’ll just build myself a cottage out back and gift “Williamson Manor” to Christian and his future wife (wherever in the world she may be) so that they can fill it with love, laughter, and as many children as they desire and I can just take it easy out back in a little hut. After all, that’s what a home of this magnitude was built for … “love, laughter, and CHILDREN”! Not only is that what he would have wanted, but he has set us up for nothing but success in the rest of our journey without him. We spoke at length about the pros and cons … “should we stay or should we go” … then finally agreed that if he can still see us (and we believe he can), it would break his heart even more than it did to have to leave us behind in the first place to see us pack up and leave all this behind, too. He worked too hard to give us everything we have, and I won’t let it have been in vain.
NOVEMBER 9, 2019:
As I’m writing this, there’s an upstairs filled with laughter! She’s having her first party, and there are a dozen happy teenagers here feeling comfortable, relaxed, and at home, just how he always wanted.
THIS WAS HIS DREAM FOR HER!
I thought about crying when this epiphany washed over me, but instead I could only smile. I, too, am feeling “comfortable, relaxed and at home” with our daughter in the castle he built us, honoring his legacy, and putting these shattered pieces together in the most beautiful ways I can. I know he’s looking down right now and smiling from ear to ear as he absorbs all the laughter he can surely hear within these palace walls, hopefully taking comfort in seeing a very happy princess and an even more happy and grateful Queen.
Williamson, YOU DID IT! Your dream has come true, despite your multitude of mistakes and all the ways you hurt us. I will remain eternally grateful for and cherish all the things you have given me, and yes, you are still my hero.
A friend asked if she could send Gia a song she heard today that she felt was “her perfect song”. She’s knows my daughter well and sees directly into her heart, so, when I listened to the words, I was floored. It is her perfect song:
What if I told you the world wouldn’t end if you started showing what’s under your skin? What if you let ’em all in on the lie? Even the homecoming queen cries.
Guess what? It’s my perfect song as well! I’m thankful I finally found the courage to start speaking my truth, because living a lie wasn’t working for me at all!
This will be my last sad post for a while, as tomorrow I’ll start a new chapter of my life and wake up with the positive perspective I know he’d want me to have as I endeavor onto a path I’ve been heading towards for years. Today was rough, I’m not gonna lie. I haven’t cried so much since I lost my daughter – almost constantly since waking at 7:05am. That being said, I had an epiphany on the way home from my “anniversary dinner” with the only real parents my husband ever had, Rick and Dee, who for the record, are the ONLY people on the face of this Earth with whom I would have chosen to spend this first anniversary without him.
We got married in some friends’ theatre room nine years ago today. We didn’t have much to start, and in fact, it was right around this time that night that we were sitting in a parking lot in Murphy, Texas, eating our drive-thru meals, happy and in love. We had nothing but faith in each other, and very little support from anyone. There were a handful of people, however, that did support us from the onset, and ironically, I ended up spending my first anniversary without him in thecompanyof a few ofthem. For that, I willalways be thankful.
Although he had a “family” – a father, some siblings, and a “mother THING“, as he referred to her, that birthed him, then left him in is own remains, with the exception of one of his brothers, none of them could be bothered with him. My support was just my sister and my kids, as my parents couldn’t understand why I would marry the broke guy and commit myself and Gia to what they believed was destined to be a life of apartment living and foolish dreams. “We” were a joke to everyone for the most part, and I’m certain that no one predicted who he‘d become.
I’ve heard nothing from his father since the service, he hasn’t called once to check on me or Gia, and never came to get his son’s ashes. Neither did the brother he did have a relationship with, by the way, which was a slap in Zack’s face. The ashes I’d set aside for them are still sitting in my closet, as forgotten in death as in life. I doubt that his father even knew today was our anniversary. He is now, always has been, and will likely remain the foolish man who pissed away the chance to really know his amazing son.
Thanks for all you’ve done. I’ve missed you for so long. I can’t believe you’re gone. You still live in me. I feel you in the wind. You guide me constantly. I never knew what it was to be alone. ‘Cause you were always there for me. You were always home waiting. But now I come home, and I miss your face. Smiling down on me. I close my eyes to see. And I know you’re a part of me. And it’s your song that sets me free. I sing it while I feel, I can’t hold on. I sing tonight ’cause it comforts me. I carry the things that remind me of you. In loving memory of the one that was so true. You were as kind as you could be. And even though you’re gone you still mean the world to me. And you’ll be here with me still. All you did you did with feeling. And you always found a meaning. And you always will. And you always will. And you always will. {Alter Bridge}
I have never understood why some people are lucky enough to be born with the chance that I had, to have this path in life, and why across the world there’s a woman just like me, with the same ability, and the same desires, same work ethic and love for her family … only she sits in a refugee camp, and she has NO voice. She worries about what her children will eat, how to keep them safe, and if they’ll EVER be allowed to return home. I don’t know why this is my life, and that’s hers.
I can’t believe I never knew about this until now and cannot tell you the infinite number of times I’ve had this similar conversation with my so much better, stronger and wiser version of me daughter, who at three years old became the catalyst for everything I’ve become today:
I am here to tell you all that I would, in fact, be dead right now if it wasn’t for this beautiful girl. All it took was one moment in time with her at a Jason’s Deli when she was just over 3 years old. I saw her mimicking me as I was pushing food around my plate, but not really eating it, because I was literally starving myself to DEATH. That was the day that everything I’d ever known to be “real” in my fairy tale world came to a screeching halt as my heart broke in the most incredulous way once and for all and forced me to finally start fighting my way out of the dark and into this Light. It was HER who held the most frightening mirror up to my face of all: ME! She is one of my muses and “whys“.
Yesterday, I saw a post that really punched me in the face. Yes, that pun was intended. It was a super cool canvas rendition of the fight between Rocky and Ivan Drago, and after having thought about it literally all day and night, this is what I’ve come up with …
Gia and I are huge Rocky fans, as was Zack. Rocky IV is my favorite, because in my mind I have always felt it’s been “me against the Devil” in both the brightest and darkest moments of my life, and he’s the one always saying to me, “I MUST BREAK YOU”! Yet, I refuse to let him take me down!
Ironically, one of my favorite songs, “No Easy Way Out”, is from the Rocky IV soundtrack. The Sunday night before he killed himself, it was playing in the car on our way home from the gym. He was crying as he squeezed my hand three times (“I – Love – You”). Five nights later, he was gone. The mask came off and his fight was over. Meanwhile, I’ve listened to this song on repeat the last 62 days, just thinking, reflecting, remembering, and “wanting to know why”. But at the end of the day, it doesn’t really matter, does it? Zack’s fighting days are done. He lost. Went down. Tapped out. Still, my fighting days are not done yet, ’cause guess, what people? I’M STILL HERE! Am I bloodied and bruised with black eyes, a fat lip, and some scars that are here for the rest of my lifetime? Absolutely!
I really AM God’s favorite daughter! This “risen to power and grace” divine apostrophe I’ve become is all HIS doing, I just know it. There IS no explanation as to why I, too, haven’t taken the easy way out after of the years of pain and suffering that tried to snuff me out. God just handed me this heavyweight belt I wear for what reason I will never understand. Zero did I earn it … zero do I deserve it … but speaking of great fighters, Jean-Claude Van DAMN I’m honored to have it! It’s the most valuable thing I possess! It cost HIM everything and me NOTHING, other than my completely blind faith in “the process”. Some don’t understand this, and, in fact, may think it’s CRAZY for me to believe in something I can’t see or touch. I can’t see or touch the wind either, but its effects are very real! So, with that, I am Rocky, the devil is Ivan Drago, the God I serve is the referee, and I … am … WINNING!
Perhaps one of the most powerful days of their journey together. Zack had purchased the Supernatural fan convention ticket package for her more than a year in advance, including photo ops with her favorite actors, Misha Collins, Jensen Ackles, Jared Padalecki, and “Baby”, the ‘67 Chevy Impala (probably her FAVORITE character of all)! I wasn’t with them, but heard that when they pulled into the parking lot that morning and she realized where she was going, she almost fainted. You see, to her it’s not really about the show, the fandom, or the “stars”. It’s about the storyline (which she correlates a lot to her own life for so many reasons) and the way these guys have used their fame and fortune as a platform for what’s truly important to all of them – mental health awareness, suicide prevention, and battling “the invisible monster“! She has read about, studied, and followed their many valiant works and deeds to make this world better than they found it, and to her, that is what makes them “fan-worthy”. She wrote a school essay about them back in January:
SAVING PEOPLE
& HUNTING MENTAL ILLNESS:
THE SPN “FAMILY BUSINESS”
What makes a hero? It is their immense strength, bravery, kindness and selflessness. They inspire and save the lives of people for no other reason than to help. I found MY heroes because of a TV show that I had no clue would be as special as it is to me. By telling his story and launching a campaign giving support to those in need, Jared Padalecki, alongside Misha Collins and Jensen Ackles, has inspired thousands of people, and myself, to never give up and to always keep fighting!
In March of 2015, Jared launched “Always Keep Fighting” with different T-Shirts with the slogan. All the money gained from the over 500,000 products sold were given to the charities To Write Love On Her Arms, The Wounded Warrior Projectand Attitudes In Reverse – Student Suicide Prevention. Later, he gave the reason for him starting the campaign in the first place. That previous New Year’s Eve, one of Jared’s best friends lost his battle with depression. Jared stated that this was not the first time he had lost a personal friend to suicide. Using this new campaign, he said that he hoped “that this campaign, while raising money for a wonderful charity, can also raise awareness about issues that affect more people than we know. I hope it inspires people battling depression, addiction, mental illness, and suicidal thoughts to be vocal about their struggles. I hope it helps people realize that they shouldn’t be ashamed of what they are going through, and I hope it helps people meet and find new friends that they can relate to. I hope it helps people take pride in the fight that they have been fighting, and gives them a push to never give up or give in. I hope it helps inspire people to keep fighting. no matter how hard it is.” Through his actions, he showed a level of kindness and compassion that is superhuman. Later, however, he reveals something that gives the “Always Keep Fighting” Campaign an entirely different depth.
Living with an invisible illness requires an immense amount of strength and bravery. I have witnessed firsthand the wear and tear it can do (and yes, there is a REAL “superhero” in this regard I am lucky enough to call my mom). Opening up to the public, to millions of people that you have suffered through the same battles as the people you are fighting for? That requires unbelievable bravery. Jared did just that. He said how he has suffered from anxiety and depression. He said that he did not understand why he would be depressed. “It kind of hit me like a sack of bricks,” Jared told reporters. “I mean, I was 25 years old. I had my own TV show. I had dogs that I loved, and tons of friends and I was getting adoration from fans, and I was happy with my work, but I couldn’t figure out what it was; it doesn’t always make sense is my point. It’s not just people who can’t find a job or can’t fit in in society that struggle with depression sometimes.” Misha Collins, a best friend, and co-star of Jared, also suffered in the same way that many fans and readers alike have. Misha had been self-harming for years. Since he was only around 12 or 13 years old. Misha won his battle. He stopped cutting himself and started loving himself. Later, he and his co-star/best friend Jensen Ackles started something of their own.
On February 12, 2016, Jensen and Misha launched the You Are Not Alone fundraising T-shirt Campaign with T-shirts that used the slogan “You Are Not Alone”. The SPNFamily Crisis Support Network has been established by Jensen and Misha in partnership with Random Acts, TWLOHA, and IMAlive. This project created an online support network to help fans cope with mental health issues such as depression, self-injury, and addiction and included training for fan volunteers who wish to be crisis responders in their spare time, provided immediate access to support lifelines for fans in crisis, and local community resources for those needing additional support or information. Together, they save lives and create warriors in the process. They have shown people that there are people who care about them. They save lives as any hero should.
Through words and actions, they have shown far more than bravery, courage, and compassion. Just like the ‘S’ on Superman’s chest, what they have done means hope for people. On February 9th, Misha Collins, who plays Castiel, on Supernatural, posted a video on his social media accounts. Misha’s message? He told his fans without speaking that they’re not alone. To people outside of the Supernatural fandom, this video may not seem like much. But to people who know Misha, to people who watch him every week on The CW, these four words, “you are not alone” mean so much more. Fans see that the actors that they look up to and love not only care about them but believe in them. They continue also to bring the three-word sentence, “always keep fighting”, up fairly often, constantly reminding their fans to not give up.
“Jared, Jensen and Misha”. To people not in the fandom or the people who simply don’t know who they are, these names may mean nothing. I promise you, however, that these names have meant life for thousands of people, mine included. They have not only saved lives, but taught people how to save lives themselves. To look around, at complete strangers, and help those who are struggling, and make sure that they win their fight. They have created an army that fights the demons that live in all of our hearts and minds. An army that is fighting every day for one another.
Jared, Jensen and Misha have saved thousands of lives, mine included. Day after day they continue to save people. Jared Padalecki, alongside Misha Collins and Jensen Ackles, have inspired thousands of people, and me, to never give up, and to always keep fighting. They have taught us that no matter what happens, what we do, WE KEEP GOING! No matter how much we want to give up on anything, little or small, we will refuse to stop. Most importantly, they have taught us that even if we think we have met our match and can’t go on, we will get up and fight harder than ever. We can go on because we are enough, we are not alone, and we have a family of people we have never met, who love us and understand us. Who live their lives loving and helping complete strangers? Thanks to these three men. As Jared said, “Even if there are a thousand small fights, even if every other minute you’re thinking about suicide, or depression, or addiction, or if you have a mental illness, I want people to hit it head on and take action. And to be proud that they’re winning their fight, period.” We must always keep fighting!
{Written by Gia Embach}
How ironic is it that we are now preparing ourselves to “walk the walk” and “talk the talk” that she had already taken so seriously long before he left us this way? The connection between Gia, Zack (her “Bobby”), this show, “J2M”, and their platforms is no coincidence! One thing you should know is that on August 22, 2019, while in the midst of the trauma and chaos that was happening in our home that night and after having run out of the house in a panic, Gia made the call on her own to the IMAlive chat line after having remembered this post that she had seen on their Instagram feed just seven days before:
Four months have passed since one of the best weekends of her life, but then a dark dragon swooped down and changed everything for us both in the blink of an eye. This weekend we face one of the most bittersweet weekends of our journey. But we will walk, and we will talk like the warrior girls we are, because I am me, she is mine, and it’s what we’re being called to do. We have Misha, Jensen, Jared and “Supernatural” to thank for that! One day I hope to be able to tell them in person:
I reached out to one of you today, in fact, who I will not name, because the way she loves and the things she does for those lucky enough to be in her circle are from a truly selfless place. She doesn’t “give” for selfish reasons, which can indeed be a reason for giving. What she put herself through in the immediate aftermath of Zack’s death for the sake of me and my daughter I will NEVER fully be able to repay. She was the first person to get “that 7am call” other than immediate family, and this morning she awoke to yet ANOTHER “one of those calls”.
I want you to know there are those of US “who know” that you too are struggling on a day like today. “Your people” are hurting, so YOU are hurting! “One of your tribe” has just been smacked with a cosmic dose of WHAT THE HELL, and so, too, have you. You’re feeling stressed, sad, helpless and overwhelmed right alongside the people in your halo and you, too, feel gut punched. For all that you are deep within your soul, God Himself knows that when your peoples’ cards go down, yours go right down with them.
Empaths, you are treasured in this Universe and being thought of at this moment! Oh, and you’re AMAZEBALLS! God will never give you more than He knows you can handle, which, my beautiful friends, is exactly why you got this bittersweet gift directly from The Source. He knew He was going to need an army of impossiblystrongangels on Earth to help keep the flames of compassion ignited so the others can find that Light burning in all this dark. I’m an empath too, so, I understand. It rips my heart out to see others suffering. It’s who I am and it doesn’t always feel good, but I wouldn’t trade it for anything.
My love to all of you and remember this: NOTHING GOES UNNOTICED! YOU WILL NOT BE FORGOTTEN! This extra stress you absorb trying so hard to help? The sleepless nights spent worrying, caring and praying for others? The tears you cry all too often for the sake of all mankind are being counted one by one! Take a deep breath my friends and be strong. YOU’RE GONNA BE OKAY!
This is no joke, but last night Gia and I had an encounter with a real angel …
“Cassiel”
I have always believed in angels, and so has she, but this was just surreal. The scariest part is that upon investigation as to who this “Cassiel” being was, what we found was beyond astonishing! He’s not just any angel, you see, but rather, the Archangel known for watching the events of the cosmos unfold with little to no interference. He’s the angel of solitude and tears said to preside over the deaths of kings and the patron angel of “all manner of overlooked people”, or those in weakened states, including orphaned children and the downtrodden. Cassiel is also the angel of the planet Saturn, whose protagonist is Zazel, the demon of Saturn that is most known for infiltrating the minds of the psychologically weak and mentally ill.
Cassiel’s planetary number just happens to be 8, which turned on its side is infinity. This wasn’t only Zack’s favorite number, but he was supposed to be getting an infinity tattoo with both mine and Gia’s name on each end on August 23rd had he not left us. Eight was also his Life Path Number, and Gia and I have been seeing 8’s everywhere. Lest we also forget that he made his decision to die on August 8th … “8/8”. Perhaps we’re both insane, but Gia and I are both at home today feeling a bit ethereal in every best way possible.
… to this very day and minute, October 5, 1982, 9:51am, not only I and my children, but this world as a whole received one of the most beautiful gifts I never knew I would have until that moment our eyes locked so many years later in October of 2008.
It was written in the stars, on the pages of my heart, oh that someday I would find the love I feel for you … On the ocean of our dreams, like a prayer you came to me. And the longing that had been found its ending in your eyes …
There are no words to describe the bittersweet emotions I am raw with at this moment. “One man’s trash really IS another man’s treasure“, and God Himself knows this is true. She may have thrown you away, but you were indeed my greatest treasure, other than those I have given birth to myself. HAPPY BIRTHDAY ZACHARIAH. Your battle is finally over.
Exactly one year ago this morning Zack and I were sitting in a hotel lobby in Paris waiting for a shuttle to come schlep us to the airport for our flight home to Dallas. “So, where are we going next”, he asked me. One trip to Europe and literally could NOT wait to plan our next adventure. He was hooked! After having spent the entire morning considering the possibilities, we were split down the middle: Ireland? Switzerland? Kids? No kids? What to to do, what to do? BEFORE WE’D MADE IT TO THE AIRPORT he had already called Globus to book our trip to Switzerland for my 50th, and within a week of getting home he had the Ireland trip for “all of us” booked as well. My point is this: Life just threw us a curveball that no one ever “really” saw coming. And this my friends, IS LIFE. Each day, wait, no, each second we are allowed to spend here with our souls in these flesh and bone bodies just turning and burning, living like there’s no tomorrow and making plans for the future is a gift. So I beg you all: If what happened to our family hasn’t already made you “stop, look and listen” and take serious stock of your life, please, DO IT NOW! One month ago today? Although, yes, there had been signs, and yes, we had been fighting for months against the demons that were devouring him, I THOUGHT WE HAD MORE TIME!
Unfortunately, I’ve learned all too well by now that everything can change in an instant, but the most powerful wisdom I’ve ”earned” is knowing it really is all about forgiveness, acceptance, empathy, understanding, and finding our “power and grace“.
My husband hurt us so badly. His actions spoke louder than the even the angriest words I’ve heard in my lifetime, and trust me, prior to life with Zack, I’d heard more than my fair share of less than optimal “words”. There are things that may be revealed throughout the course of time in both mine and Gia’s journey that may surprise, confuse and outrage you. Zack wasn’t “Zack” the night he left us. He was someone else. Some “thing” else. Two beings in one body … an angel battling a demon. As dramatic as that may sound, please understand me when I say this: His choices, actions, and final bat-shit fucking crazy blow devastated us in unspeakable ways. Even still, in in case you haven’t figured it out by now, I have forgiven him for everything, and did so within seconds of knowing he was gone, which for the record, although his death certificate reads “Found August 23, 2019”, I physically felt him leaving here at just before midnight on August 22nd. I know with every shred of my being and will NEVER be convinced otherwise that was the moment he pulled the trigger.
That forgiveness wasn’t just for me, by the way, it was also very much for him. So often in life we are put in positions wherein there is “forgiveness that needs to be given”, but for whatever reason the “person” or “thing” that hurt us is either undeserving of our forgiveness or otherwise “unavailable” for being forgiven (meaning they are dead, in jail, otherwise absent from our life, or simply unwilling or incapable of validating or acknowledging even a shred of the pain or suffering they caused us. In some cases, as in mine and Gia’s, it could be a little of all of the above. These are the times, therefore, when you may perhaps have heard it said, and IT IS SO TRUE:
FORGIVENESS IS FOR US, NOT FOR THEM!
Forgiveness releases us from a self-inflicted prison of anger, hate, toxicity, and resentment when we become victims of the unkind acts of others.
Some have probably argued that what Zack did to us was indeed “unforgivable”. But you see, I have known all too well since the day that precious man’s eyes first met with mine that he was suffering within himself all the days of his life, EVEN DURING HIS BEST YEARS WITH US. Knowing that he lived each day with that gaping hole inside his heart tortured me too. There is a line from one of my favorite movies that has resonated in my mind since I lost him:
That boy, Frank, he lives inside of his own heart. That’s an awful big place to live in.
The movie was Slingblade, and we watched it together often. I cannot tell you how many times I saw tears rolling down his cheeks when he heard those words being said, as that is exactly where he lived the majority of HIS life – “inside of his own heart”. And, yes, it truly was an awful big place to live in. I am so thankful that my husband is finally at peace now, and I absolutely know that he is.
Last night while at dinner with a dear friend, a miracle started happening. Gia is starting to talk about him. Finally. For the first time since “that night”. Up until yesterday, SHE DIDN’T WANT TO HEAR HIS NAME! And not only was she talking about him, but my friend later pointed something out to me that I didn’t really pick up on until she said it:
Catherine, in all our conversation tonight, I couldn’t help but notice that she kept referring to Zack as her dad and her dad as her father.
And that my friends, is perhaps the defining moment of her process. The more time that passes, it is becoming very clear that she too is going to forgive him for everything he did, taking only the best parts of him into her future, and leaving out all the rest! The father-daughter bond they shared before he lost his mind? Nothing is going to erase it! She is her mother’s daughter, so, I guess something I’m doing with her is working. As for me? I know exactly what I want my own legacy to be one day when I, too, have to leave for The Brighter Side Of Grey, and from what I am starting to see, it’s already living out loud through her.
… that fourth Friday night without him in over eleven years, and “God only knows how many Friday nights” since November 8, 1996, when I attempted suicide myself.There’s no telling “how many more Fridays” will have to pass by before my baby girl will be out of the danger zone with “ideations” of her own after the virtual Hell she is still living through for reasons I cannot say!
From this point going forward, I will be here for as many nights as I’m allowed to live to faithfully remind the unsuspecting masses that THERE IS ALWAYS SOMEONE LISTENING by doing exactly as Zack would always tell me to:
Catherine, USE YOUR WORDS!
LULLABYE
I know the feeling of finding yourself stuck out on the ledge. And there ain’t no healing from cuttin’ yourself with the jagged edge. I’m tellin’ you that it’s never that bad, and take it from someone who’s been where your at. You’re laid out on the floor and you’re not sure you can take this anymore. So just give it one more try with a lullaby and turn this up on the radio. If you can hear me now I’m reachin’ out to let you know that you’re not alone. And you can’t tell I’m scared as hell ’cause I can’t get you on the telephone. So just close your eyes … Well honey here comes a lullaby. Your very own lullaby. Please let me take you out of the darkness and into The Light. ‘Cause I have faith in you that you’re gonna make it through another night. Stop thinkin’ about the easy way out. There’s no need to go and blow the candle out. Because you’re not done, you’re far too young and the best is yet to come. Well everybody’s hit the bottom. And everybody’s been forgotten. Well everybody’s tired of being alone. Yeah everybody’s been abandoned. And left a little empty handed. So if you’re out there barely hangin’ on … just give it one more try with a lullaby and turn this up on the radio. {Nickelback}
If you can hear or see me from wherever you are, and I’m surviving right now due in large part to my true faith that that you can, I want you to know that I love you. I Miss you.I FORGIVE YOU. I would NOT have made it to this crossroad in my journey without you, and you and I both know it’s true. I will never forget you, or replace you, nor dishonor, disgrace or disassemble the infinite trove of tools, gifts, strengths, and beauty that you and ONLY YOU had the patience, courage and foresight to help find buried deep within myself. You helped me find my reflection in a mirror where I once only saw a faceless monster, and turned me into a queen. That, my king, is something only you shall get the credit for. You refused to give up on me no matter how hard I made you try, and not a day will go by while I’m roaming this earth without you that I won’t pray to God that you’re STILL behind me silently pushing me like only you can do. There is so much work to be done here now, and I’m going to make you proud while my life continues to go on. Every day for the rest of my life I will count these darkened ashes piled beneath our feet and rise so far above them that it will be IMPOSSIBLE for them not to hear “our” voices.
If my wish has come true, you’ve safely made it to The Brighter Side Of Grey with your broken heart in one piece to The One parent whose intention was never to forsake you through all the loneliness and heartache you suffered in your lifetime. I’m hoping that not only have you gone and found my daughter by now, but that you’ve also caught up with that handsome Cajun boy you heard so much about who stole the first real piece of my heart and rode off with it in his “blaze of glory”. Don’t think that I will EVER forget how you not only welcomed him and everything he was, but even more so embraced him for all that I was because of what he’d brought into my world and let me carry him on our journey together. Few are the men that are capable of such selflessness and living with my ghosts the way that you did is one of the things I’ve thanked God for the most.I know that you’ll all be waiting hand in hand for me until I get there, a moment I literally picture in my mind quite often. So, until that day comes when I can see you all again, I love you more than words. Forever. Eternally. Unconditionally.
~ Catherine
BECAUSE YOU LOVED ME
For all those times you stood by me. For all the truth that you made me see. For all the joy you brought to my life. For all the wrong that you made right. For every dream you made come true. For all the love I found in you. I’ll be forever thankful baby. You’re the one who held me up and never let me fall. You’re the one who saw me through through it all. You were my strength when I was weak. You were my voice when I couldn’t speak. You were my eyes when I couldn’t see. You saw the best there was in me. Lifted me up when I couldn’t reach. You gave me faith ’cause you believed. I’m everything I am because you loved me. You gave me wings and made me fly. You touched my hand I could touch the sky. I lost my faith; you gave it back to me. You said no star was out of reach. You stood by me, and I stood tall. I had your love I had it all. I’m grateful for each day you gave me. Maybe I don’t know that much, but I know this much is true. I was blessed because I was loved by you. You were always there for me. The tender wind that carried me. A light in the dark shining your love into my life. You’ve been my inspiration. Through the lies you were the truth. My world is a better place because of you.” {Celine Dion}
At exactly 8am this morning we were supposed to be taking off on our flight to tour Switzerland for my 50th birthday. Lucerne was to be our first night and our last, and one of the things I was most looking forward to sharing with him was ”the lion” … the one that I myself stood before some 19 years prior while having the first of my many to follow “moments” while traveling.
Like Zack, I, too, was trapped inside the prison of my own mind at the time in a dark and lonely chasm where I was alive but not really living. So many of my realities back then were nothing more than lies and I but a walking farce. I vividly remember that day as the group I was with headed up a tree-lined path towards “something spectacular” our tour guide was excited to show us. I was looking down at my schedule, not paying much attention, and almost ran in to the person standing in front of me when the group suddenly stopped and turned to look across the pond at “him”.
The Lion of Lucerne is rock relief carved into the cliff face of a sandstone that was sculpted during the early part of the 19th century to commemorate the Swiss Guards who lost their lives in 1792 during the French Revolution. Yet, as I paused to gaze upon him, I saw so much more than just a fallen soldier. It was in that very moment that I began feeling the plethora of emotions I’d been suppressing behind a fraudulent smile to protect not only myself, but my children especially, from the wreckage to come when I finally started letting it all go.
The Lion. Just look at him lying there slain inside that wall. A beast of many burdens, lifeless and alone, with only the precious secrets he’d carried within his heart. Weak and weary. Tired and spent. Worn out, solemn, and vacant. Life had its way with him, and now he’s but a corpse of some unknown past he’d once lived, the demons that had devoured him, and the countless private dreams he’d dreamt that never were to be. Despite his years of his perceived magnificence, he is, ”no longer”.
Connecting with him in that one still moment screamed to me in ways that I have yet been able to fathom, but what I can tell you this. That was, indeed, the turning point at which I truly began to “feel” the pain from the broken, jagged, silent pieces that had been cutting me from within all the while. Both my stomach and my heart were aching so badly that I literally couldn’t breathe. Yet, it was without question one of the most beautiful moments of my life.
The Lion is me. The Lion is my husband. He is any and everyone who is now or has ever had the daunting task of wandering lost inside their own lonely head and heart just waiting for the day that they’re finally allowed to die.
So, with that, as I finish this post, I think I’ve made a decision. Someday, I will go on to Lucerne and offer some of his ashes to the pond beneath my Lion. It’s what I need to do, and I will when the time is right. In the meantime, I’ll just continue to rise from not just the ashes of his remains, but my own as well, and pray God that I’ll see the beauty that is surely yet to rise up out of them.
Well, I’m sitting in front of her new school waiting for her to come out, and if today is anything like the first three days this week, she’ll have a smile on her face from ear to ear. For the record, the entrance ramp you see in the picture is the same one Zack traversed when he, too, went to Bowman! The little house he grew up in is just a few blocks away from the the park in my rearview mirror, and as I sit here, I can see the faint traces of the younger him barreling out those doors headed straight for that park. A sweet, blonde-haired, blue-eyed boy lost deep in a world of solitude, ever so unaware that the feet that were carrying him were already set upon a dark and broken path of “left to his own defenses”.
Despite the nine years we had him healthy, happy, and somewhat whole, Zack’s descent truly began here at Bowman two years ago when we were searching for proof he existed on paper as a child and finally get him a proper birth certificate and a passport.
This Place.
Sitting in the very office where Gia and I sat last Friday to “fake enroll her” (with the intention of online school to finish her 8th grade year) was where Zack and I sat waiting to find that, no, there was no record of him there. Although we were lucky to find two pictures of him later that day at Memorial Elementary, the brutal reality burned him like salt on his soul. Still … the irony! The very place he began falling apart as an adult is where she is coming together as a child. We didn’t choose Bowman intentionally. It just happens that this is the Plano ISD middle school our address feeds to. It was mere coincidence. Or was it? He’s with her here now, I just know it!
Her decision to leave St. Marks wasn’t hard. It wasn’t the school itself; it’s great and I’m proud that my kids have that legacy. Although I won’t go into the dramatics, because that story will be a chapter to itself, let me say this: The particular class she was with year after year (most notably, the girls) bears the distinction as having one the cruelest lot of mean kids in the school’s history.
Worse yet, “real dad” began dating the mother of her best friend, both of whom embarked upon a campaign to literally destroy both mine and Gia’s reputations through words and deeds tantamount only to assault: Bullying, belittling, ostracizing, isolating, threatening, manipulating, and even blackmailing and slander. He’s still dating her, by the way, despite the trauma she and her spawn bestowed upon my daughter.
Gia spent the last five years feeling so alone on that campus, hard pressed to find but a handful of real friends. For the most part, her “friends” saw her as a revolving door, taking or leaving her to best suit their own needs, such that on her birthday this year? She was checking her phone every ten minutes to see if any of “her tribe” remembered the day she was born(much like every October 5th when Zack would check his phone every ten minutes to see if his people remembered him).
Before he left us and hurt her VERY BADLY, she was already damaged and fragile. Her “tribe”? Those girls she stood by loyally and faithfully? The ones she always showed up for, stood up for, and stood behind? The ones whose lockers she made sure were jam packed with treats on their special days? They showed her just what she meant to them on July 18th: NOTHING! No texts. No calls. No cards. NO. THING!
I call them “my girls”. My dauthter’s friends are my daughters, too. That’s how it’s always been in my house. She’s got a knack for picking amazing girls to surround herself … now, put it this way. She hasn’t always been so good at that, but she’s got a really good tribe now, and these are her tribe for the long haul. I’m thinking that the people that she has in her life right now are gonna be her people 40 years from now. I can tell! But anyway, I’ve digressed.
On the first day of school this year, she cried her fucking eyes out when she got in the car. “Still nothing mom.” You see, she’d decided to err on the benefit of doubt:
Well, it WAS summer, so, maybe THAT’S why they forgot. Surely, they’ll say happy BELATED birthday when they see me on the first day of school?
You haven’t LIVED until you’ve seen such a beautiful face and equally beautifully heart reduced to such pain at the hands of the “tribe” she thought she belonged to. After all they KNEW she’d already been through, and after all the storms she weathered for and with them? They threw her away like yesterday’s trash and shattered her glass heart into pieces.So, when she was finally released from the hospital and the school decision had to be made, there wasn’t a doubt in her mind:
Mom, I don’t belong there anymore and you know it. Please don’t make me go back.
So, today I just know she’ll be coming out of that school with a smile! SHELOVES IT HERE! It’s only been three days, and she’s had offers to sit at seven lunch tables. SHE HAS FRIENDS! I’m telling you people … HE’S WITH HER IN THOSE HALLWAYS, I can feel it in my soul!
TO HER “TRIBE” AND THE TREES YOU FELL FROM:
None of you was ever good enough for her, so, thank God she finally saw it, because QUEENS don’t take scraps from anyone! I’d say I’m sorry that her overwhelming shadow kept the light off your bottom-feeder faces, but yah, NO! While we’ve forgiven you for everything, never will we forget! I promise we won’t be laughing from her perch at the top of EVERYTHING as you desperately flail around on the surface-level ground you will remain on as you’re looking up at my daughter’s presence and choking on THIS truth: Lions don’t concern themselves with the opinions of the sheep.
… when it’s been 21 days since the king of your heart fell off his throne after a lifetime of battling the darkness that became him after his “mother THING” all but threw him away the day that he was born and you’re finally able to open his phone for the first time looking for any answers you can find. Then, there it is, right in front of your sobbing eyes … his “daily affirmation”. He really was “doing the best that he could”. I know it in my heart. God please let him finally be resting in peace.
What most people don’t know is that Williamson either sent or brought me flowers literally once a week from the day we got married, November 1, 2010. Initially, they were just a simple store bought bouquet or a single rose, but as his many successes ensued, the weekly deliveries became “whatever he felt like sending” from his partner in the crime, and sometimesto the random places I went. He had already warned me that I should be prepared for a house filled with “50 arrangements for his birthday girl” the week before my birthday since we were supposed to be getting on a plane to Switzerland on my birthday.
Catherine, there will be SO many flowers in this house that you won’t be able to walk through the house.
So, I just counted, and you WON’T believe how many arrangements are in this house. Yup. THERE ARE 50! In the foyer, in the kitchen, in the bathrooms, in our bedroom. Everywhere. They’re EVERYWHERE!
Thank you to everyone who unknowingly became cohorts in his “50 arrangements for my birthday girl” plan. I feel surrounded by both love and so many beautiful ironies today in the midst of all this grey.
And if I should fall, will it all go away?
No, my king, it shall never go away. I’ve been kissed by a rose on the grey.
KISS FROM A ROSE
There used to be a greying tower alone on the sea. You became the light on the dark side of me. Love remained a drug that’s the high and not the pill. But did you know that when it snows my eyes become large and the Light that you shine can be seen? Baby, I compare you to a kiss from a rose on the grey. Ooh, the more I get of you, the stranger it feels, yeah. Now that your rose is in bloom, a Light hits the gloom on the grey. There is so much a man can tell you, so much he can say. You remain my power, my pleasure, my pain. Baby, to me, you’re like a growing addiction that I can’t deny. Won’t you tell me, is that healthy, baby? And if I should fall, will it all go away? I’ve been kissed by a rose on the grey. {Seal}
May the endless tears he cried for ALL of you – his “family” – darken every day of your SELFISH lives and the shadow of his beautiful face staring back at you when you look in your otherwise EMPTY mirrors never cease to remind you of the “ZACK OF SHIT” you threw away! THIS is how you “loved” …
To learn more about the lifelong and often irreversible effects on children abandoned by their “mothers”:
So this is it. I say goodbye to this chapter of my ever-changing life. And there’s mistakes. The path is long. And I’m sure I’ll answer for them when I’m gone. So when the day comes and the Sun won’t touch my face, tell the ones who cared enough that I finally left this place that’s been so cold. Look at my face. All the stories it will tell I can’t erase. The road is long. Just one more song. A little something to remind you when I’m gone. When I’m gone. The road to hell along the way is paved with good intentions so they say. And some believe that no good deed goes unpunished in the end or so it seems. So when the day comes and the Sun won’t touch my face, tell the ones who cared enough that I’ve finally left this place that’s been so cold. Look at my face. All the stories it will tell I can’t erase. The road is long. Just one more song. A little something to remind you when I’m gone. So this is it. I say goodbye to this chapter of my ever-changing life. And there’s mistakes. The path was long. And I’m sure I’ll answer for them when I’m gone. When I’m gone.{Staind}
Like a scream inside, the one you just can’t hide. The sound so deafening, you can’t hear yourself think. As real as real can get. Keeping my heart in check from feeling anything but my own apathy. Again, again. It’s creeping up on me. Making it harder to breathe. We’re all under pressure. Can’t stand the weather. For the worse and not for the better. Please, this ain’t the way to live. Something’s got to give. We forgive but don’t forget it, no. Another day, another battle. We all have a cage to rattle. This just might be the death of me. Might be the death of me. It’s reached a fever pitch. I’m living proof of it. I find it hard to cope, without a thread of hope. Blood is thicker than water. But love is even stronger. Hold out a little longer. Until we found ourselves. Again, again. Like a scream inside, the one you just can’t hide. The sound so deafening, you can’t hear yourself think. As real as real can get. {Daughtry}
There you stood in disbelief, trying all you could to see through these lies. And every word that I could breathe would find you more inclined to leave, but I tried. I tried. And knowing what I’ve done to you … with every thought you suffer through … my heart as black as evil can. And everything I could have been … erased by what I wanted then …I couldn’t think a lesser man.
So, now I reap what I have sown and any rapture I had shown has bled dry. And I walked the streets alone, accepting pain I’d never known as you died. You died. Then I hurt myself to see it, too … to feel the knife put in you … my heart as broken as my ways. I never should’ve let it pass … this fall was never meant to last … the reason gone and damage stays.
All the delicate ways that I deepened our graves. My apology pales.
Oh, the pain in your eyes … my regrets have never known such sorrow. Oh, the shame that you hide … resolutions are the same tomorrow.
I have nothing left to give. I have found the perfect end. You were made to make it hurt. Disappear into the dirt. Carry me to heaven’s arms. Light the way and let me go. Take the time to take my breath. I will end where I began. And I will find the enemy within ’cause I can feel it crawl beneath my skin. Dear Agony: Just let go of me. Suffer slowly. Is this the way it’s got to be? Dear Agony. Suddenly the lights go out. Let forever drag me down. I will fight for one last breath. I will fight until the end. And I will find the enemy within ’cause I can feel it crawl beneath my skin. Dear Agony: Just let go of me. Suffer slowly. Is this the way it’s got to be? Don’t bury me faceless enemy. I’m so sorry. Is this the way it’s gotta be? Dear Agony: Leave me alone. God let me go. I’m blue and cold. Black sky will burn. Love pull me down. Hate lift me up. Just turn around. There’s nothing left. Somewhere far beyond this world. I feel nothing anymore.
~ Zachariah Lucas Williamson
***
Although his death certificate says “FOUND AUGUST 23, 2019”:
It was AUGUST 22, 2019, the night that changed everything for me and mine. It was the night my husband took his own life, and yes, I physically “felt it happen”. Sufficed to say that there are still so many parts of that night and what led up to it that are very unclear in my mind, as this trauma has obviously affected both me and our daughter in unimaginable and irreversible ways.
That being said, what I do vividly remember was sitting in a room alone trying to get a hold of myself and wrap my head around what was happening to my family. Then, at just before midnight, I felt it! I had an adrenalin dump and it felt like someone had punched me in the gut and knocked the wind out of me. I literally couldn’t breathe. The next morning, August 23rd, the police chief of our town came to find me in the hospital where our daughter was being treated for her own resulting trauma and suicidal thoughts as a result of what he’d done. As he headed toward me with “that look” on his face, I already knew what he was going to say.
“Mrs. Williamson, we did, unfortunately, locate your husband in his car this morning with a self-inflicted gunshot wound to the head. I am so sorry to inform you that he is, in fact, deceased.”
At which point I fell to the ground with a guttural wail that I’m told could be heard throughout the hospital. He went on to say that although they had found his body at 8:30 that morning, the coroner had estimated that he’d already been dead somewhere between 10 to 12 hours, which was confirmation that my physical manifestation of his death the prior night was correct.
Cut my life into pieces. I’ve reached my last resort. Suffocation. No breathing. Don’t give a fuck if I cut my arm, bleeding. Do you even care if I die bleeding? Would it be wrong? Would it be right? If I took my life tonight? Chances are that I might. Mutilation out of sight, and I’m contemplating suicide. ‘Cause I’m losing my sight. Losing my mind. Wish somebody would tell me I’m fine. Losing my sight. Losing my mind. Wish somebody would tell me I’m fine. I never realized I was spread too thin ’til it was too late, and I was empty within. Hungry, feeding on chaos and living in sin. Downward spiral, where do I begin? IT ALL STARTED WHEN I LOST MY MOTHER! No love for myself, and no love from another. Searching to find a lover on a higher level. Finding nothing but questions and devils. ‘Cause I’m losing my sight. Losing my mind. Wish somebody would tell me I’m fine. Losing my sight. Losing my mind. Wish somebody would tell me I’m fine. Nothing is alright. Nothing is fine. I’m running and I’m cryin’.
Won’t you get up off, get up off the roof? You’re scaring us, and all of us (some of us) love you. Achilles, it’s not much but there’s proof. You crazy ass cosmonaut, remember your virtue. Redemption lies plainly in truth. Just humor us Achilles. Achilles come down! Won’t you get up off, get up off the roof?
Achilles!
Achilles!
Achilles, come down!
Won’t you get up off, get up off the roof? The self is not so weightless, nor whole and unbroken. Remember the pact of our youth? Where you go I’m going, so jump and I’m jumping since there is no me without you. Soldier on Achilles. Achilles come down! Won’t you get up off, get up off the roof?
Loathe the way they light candles in Rome, but love the sweet air of the votives. Hurt and grieve but don’t suffer alone. Engage with the pain as a motive. Today of all days see how the most dangerous thing is to love. How you will heal and you’ll rise above.
Achilles!
Achilles!
Achilles, jump now!
You are absent of cause or excuse. So self-indulgent and self-referential. No audience could ever want you. You crave the applause yet hate the attention, then miss it. Your act is a ruse. It is empty Achilles, so end it all now. It’s a pointless resistance for you.
Achilles!
Achilles, just put down the bottle!
Don’t listen to what you’ve consumed. It’s chaos, confusion, and wholly unworthy of feeding, and it’s wholly untrue. You may feel no purpose, nor a point for existing. It’s all just conjecture and gloom. And there may not be meaning, so find one and seize it. Do not waste yourself on this roof.
Hear those bells ring deep in the soul chiming away for a moment. Feel your breath course frankly below. See life as a worthy opponent! Today of all days, see how the most dangerous thing is to love. How you will heal and you’ll rise above. Crowned by an overture bold and beyond. Ah, it’s more courageous to overcome!
You want the acclaim, the mother of mothers. (It’s not worth it Achilles.)
More poignant than fame or the taste of another. (Don’t listen Achilles.)
But be real and just jump you dense motherfucker. (You’re worth more Achilles.)
You will not be more than a rat in the gutter. (So much more than a rat.)
You want my opinion, my opinion you’ve got. (No one asked your opinion.)
You asked for my counsel, I gave you my thoughts. (No one asked for your thoughts.)
Be done with this now and get off the roof! Can you hear me Achilles? I’m talking to you. I’m talking to you. I’m talking to you. Achilles come down! Achilles come down! Throw yourself into the unknown with pace and a fury defiant. Clothe yourself in beauty untold and see life as a means to a triumph. Today of all days, see how the most dangerous thing is to love. How you will heal and you’ll rise above. Crowned by an overture bold and beyond. Ah, it’s more courageous to overcome!
Step One: You say, “We need to talk.” She walks, you say, “Sit down, it’s just a talk.” She smiles politely back at you. You stare politely right on through. Some sort of window to your right, as she goes left and you stay right between the lines of fear and blame. Let her know that you know best, ’cause after all, you do know best. Try to slip past her defense without granting innocence. Lay down a list of what is wrong … the things you’ve told herall along … and pray to God she hears you. I pray to God He hears you. As she begins to raise her voice, you lower yours and grant her one last choice: “Drive until you lose the road, or break with the ones you’ve followed.” She will do one of two things: She will admit to everything, or she’ll say she’s just not the same. Then you’ll begin to wonder why you came.You begin to wonder why you came. “Where did I go wrong? I lost a friend somewhere along in the bitterness, and I’d have stayed up with you all night had I known how to save a life.”
(“How To Save A Life” … Words Adapted)
If only I had known all these years that I’ve been belting these words out loud that one day they’d become the inner voice inside my head talking back to me. With that, I can’t believe I’m finally putting this out into the Universe … BUT … here I am doing it anyway. As much as my own past mental health issues are multi-faceted, layered, and complicated, I’m also in my 8th year of recovery from the dragon that was my anorexia/bulimia.
With that, if you, your daughter, or anyone you know is struggling with body dysmorphia or an unhealthy relationship with food of any kind (’cause remember that “Men Have Feelings, Too“), I’d love to sit down and talk with them. After all, no one better understands how to live with and slay a dragon than someone who’s done it herself.
As you can see, I’m desperately trying to be as transparent as possible as I journey through this nightmare I’m living out loud, as I refuse to just sit back and let the broken roads each member of this family has traveled thus far have been in vain. My story? HIS story? My daughter’s? My son’s? They will have made a difference in the life of at least one other broken soul that’s lingering hopelessly out there in this world somewhere if it takes my last breath to do it.
Zack reminded us all so much of Robin Williams’, one of my favorite icons. He was larger than life. Always smiling. Always positive. Always the biggest presence in the room! He couldn’t stand to see anyone sad, so, he would make us all laugh until our sides hurt. Yes, he was the biggest clown I’ve ever met! At the same time though, he was intensely serious about everything he tackled in life, and as witty as he could be, his timing was always perfect. With him? There was a time to laugh, a time to cry, a time to play, a time to dig in deep and get to work, but always a time to just “Good Morning Vietnam” it!
On Thursday, August 8th, 2019, things seemed to be looking up. It was his day off, but we’d decided to split up for the day so I could take Gia for school shopping and lunch while he ran some errands of his own. When he walked out the door, he seemed to be in genuinely good spirits, and as you can see from our credit card statement, we’d all had a productive day. Me? Shopping. Having lunch with our daughter. Living life in the moment and excited for the double date later that night with our sweethearts. We were happy. We had a family. We had a home. We had a KING waiting for us at that home who loved us both more than words could say. He was our everything. HE WAS OUR ROCK!
But what abouthim that day? What don’t we see in this picture of him smiling at Pinstack? “Our rock” was literally crumbling before our eyes and had already made the decision to end his life. This charge you see at “CAB STORE ALLEN”? While Gia and I were eating lunch, he was at Cabella’s buying the Springfield he put to his head 14 days later:
So, there you have it. What you see hiding behind another one’s smile isn’t always joy, peace, and happiness, and these pictures are a sobering example of this tragic truth. Although we knew he was struggling, no one knew how close to the end of the story he really was. He was dying a slow, painful, agonizing death within his own mind … we just couldn’t see it. I’m sorry that I’m not sorry if this post upsets anyone because perhaps it’s too transparent, but there’s a poignant statement made in these pictures that I felt was important to share. Maybe the saddest people always try their hardest to make people happy because they know what it’s like to feel worthless and they don’t want anyone else to feel that way.
UNTIL THE DAY I DIE
The waters rise. The light declines. But I’m not turning back from here. Voices are crying. Corpses remind that most don’t make it to the end. Look to the sky. Take back what’s mine. This life can be a cemetery. This life can be a shallow grave. I’ll never be a casualty. I’ll never bow before I break. I’ll stand and fight. Until the day I die. I left the known to walk alone ’cause to remain was suicide. The “could’ve been”. Stood up again ’cause not to try was just to die. Maybe I’m wrong. But it’s my right. I’ll face the night. I’ll find the light. Look to the sky. Take back what’s mine. I’ll stand and fight. Until the day I die.” {Like A Storm}
How can this be happening? I’m losing him. WE’RE LOSING HIM! And now it feels like I’m losing myself.
The best part of my life came and past and it’s all downhill from here.
He’s dying. HE’S FUCKING DYING! I can’t do this without him. What will I do if he doesn’t get better? PLEASE, oh God, PLEASE … give us both just enough strength to make it through this.
If only you’d have known that as you arrived to work that October day, every plan you’d ever planned, dream you’d ever dreamt, or wish you’d ever wished for your own life and future was completely unraveling. You could have worn one of those silly expectant father shirts with sparkly pink letters across your chest … “I’M GONNA BE A DAD! IT’S A GIRL!” … and maybe even passed out cigars!
He was standing in front of that one big window at the gym, turned his head, our eyes locked!
I want you to know that I am ever so aware that none of this has ever been easy for you, although to those who don’t know what really lies beneath the frosting of the beautiful cake you’ve become, you DO make it all seem so effortless. But this job you never imagined you’d be showing up for on an equally cool night the following November came with so many unseen challenges and struggles, most of which have fallen on your shoulders without complaint. I know we weren’t the family you were expecting – “some other guy’s leftovers”. And I’m guessing she wasn’t quite the “little pink bundle of joy” you may have pondered welcoming into your once very private world.
As for all the things you have been, done and given?You didn’t have to do ANY of them! No one ever asked you. You just did … and still do. All the tears you have cried with her. For her, and about her? They matter, and I’ve counted them all!He breaks her. You fix her. He makes excuses. You look for solutions. He hurts her. He hurts you. He lets them both down, but you keep picking them up. I suppose the defining moment as to who and what you are as a father was that morning just a few weeks ago when you were first reduced to tears at the realization of how much she has grown in the years since you first met her and how quickly time is speeding by:
Catherine, I only have five years left with her and then she’ll be going to college. It seems like a lifetime when she’s only gone for two days, so what’s going to happen when she’s gone for months at a time? And then when she’s gone for good? Just thinking about it makes me sick and I don’t know how I’ll survive it!
You’re a beautiful human being, Zachariah, and your heart’s depths knows no bounds. You could have had anything … anyone … and to this day I cannot understand why you’ve done the things you have done for us, and more than that, why you didn’t run as FAR away as any other man’s legs could possibly have carried him. I was so beaten down, tired, weary and ragged and had literally NOTHING to offer you whatsoever. A father who wouldn’t accept you. An ex-husband who maligned you. A pile of debt. A broken body. An empty womb. The two ghosts. “His” kids. Still, you chose us.
I want to say thank you my true and faithful King. Thank you from the depths of my soul. You are so much of everything and then some. You’re the love of my life that I never knew I’d never had until that that moment I finally knew what the selfless, unconditional love of a man and a father was supposed to be. I know this may sound crazy, but it’s because of YOU that I now fully realize how God pours His own love into all of us. When I look at you? I see Him. You’re just a mortal man, imperfect in so many ways, but your honor, intentions, and steadfast love and devotion to this family are unwavering and always “for better or worse”.
THESE are your self-evident truths:
You’re the beating of our hearts, the voice that calms our fears, the words to all our songs, the hand that wipes our tears, our eyes when we can’t see, our lungs when we can’t breathe, our legs when we can’t walk, and our arms when we can’t hold ourselves upright. You have made us both believe we’re the two most treasured prizes a man could have won, and that our many flaws and weaknesses are just as beautiful as you claim we both truly are. You are the mirror we gaze into when our own reflections fail us, and we are never more confident than when we’re standing behind you, beside you, or with you at our six. We belong to you Zachariah, and for some reason it was supposed to be this way. You gave us a home … and your heart … and everything we have today. We love you more than any of my endless words could say.
My husband wrote this for Gia in June because he believed, and it’s true, that they shared similarly broken hearts. Now, in reading it a second time, I realize he was actually writing about himself. Ten years ago my husband saved my life, and hers. In the end, it was him that needed to be saved … but I couldn’t do it.
“SHARDS”
I finally broke and my mind came undone. My body gave way as I hit the floor. My heart shattered. I lacked the strength to even pick up these pieces as they spilled across the floor while they looked at me in disapproval for the “mess” and inconvenience I made for them, but I gathered them up none the less as the whip cracked and scarred my back pushing me begrudgingly forward. I didn’t know what to do with what was left of me. I had never come this far apart. I was just a little [boy]. I just wanted to give up. Lay down. You know the rest. There is a crack deep in my soul that is still healing, but some days I feel as though it is only getting bigger. I thought I would never be strong enough to stand on my own and finally get my “shit” together. Could I find enough love for myself to make these jagged pieces worth putting together? I have looked to find strength in so many ”things” because I feel it is not within me, but deep down inside I know it is there. One day soon I will gather up these pieces again. Fit them together the way they are supposed to go. These shards will become my strength. My protection. My weapons against further abuses of my worth and love. The strength is gathering within me – I’m not little anymore! They shoved me on to the path of adulthood and I will show those who have wronged me my wrath, which will only be overshadowed by the ferocity of my love that is and was the best thing they will never have known. I spent so much time seeking their approval, when it was MY approval and favor, they should have been looking for all along.
The Diary Of My Perfection 