Before hell broke loose my house was full of angels. Only Elisabeth could see them; they were her constant companions. Her teacher said not to worry; really smart kids had imaginary friends. I liked having them around; they sort of held things together. They’ve all left now; perhaps they didn’t feel welcome here anymore. It’s startling how empty a house can feel when all the angels are gone. Elisabeth may have outgrown them, but the rest of us sure needed them.
As I struggled with the fragile thread between my sanity and dis-ease, I wound my life up in a tight little ball, determined to hold myself together. Inevitably, I unraveled; again and again became tangled in depression and darkness. I wished the angels were still here.
The breaking story on March 13th 2003 was the rescue of Elizabeth Smart; she was alive, safe, reunited with her family. Some good news for a change; I expected it to lighten this oppressive mood. Instead, I was caught in a suffocating web, and, I am ashamed to admit, bitterness and resentment consumed me.
When Elizabeth disappeared, I wept for another lost child. In this hostile world it was what I’d come to expect; angels leave. Without realizing it, I’d grown comfortable in the gloom, made it my home. I felt the Smart pain and understood it perfectly.
During her long absence, Ed and Lois Smart emerged from their shadow to send Elizabeth a birthday prayer. I gazed at their tear-stained faces and saw my own reflection mirrored there. Elizabeth’s birthday was November 3rd. She would turn 15. The following day, November 4th, my Elisabeth would’ve celebrated her 15th birthday. So we remembered, releasing 15 helium balloons to the expansive blue sky.
On that sunny March day the robins returned. Miraculously, so did Elizabeth Smart. The world rejoiced. I mourned. Her warm body and bright spirit filled her parents’ arms. My arms were weighted with the lingering memory of their own emptiness. It wasn’t so long ago, on a warm spring day, that my cherished Elisabeth was returned to my arms, but her living, breathing spirit was gone. I was jealous of the Smarts. Was it really in me to begrudge them this joy? Yes, it was. I had a choice; find the angels, reconnect, or be lost.
I stood at the water’s edge and threw stones; something Elisabeth and I once did together. I named each stone and released it: bitterness, unforgiveness, guilt, anger, hate, shame… I emptied myself out. The lake consumed each offering; the ever expanding circles spread like angel wings across the surface, reaching me with a glimmer of hope that bridged the distance between her heaven and my hell. That moment I felt comforted:Elizabeth had been reunited with her parents, and my Elisabeth was right there with me. How long had it been since I’d heard the sound of her laughter? It rang crystal clear on the wind that day. Maybe it had been there all along, just drowned out by my own cries. I’m still cracked, broken, but now there’s room for life to get in and light to get out, and I am forever in the company of angels.
I am absolutely speechless…at your courage, your self-awareness, your strength and ability to move forward. You are one Super Woman, I look forward to more reading and hope that you know your impact on me goes so far beyond that of a co-worker
I was very young when your daughter passed away. It was my first experience with death, and I remember it very clearly to this day. I admire the frankness and honesty in your writing, particularly when you wrote about feeling envious of the Smart family. I am moved by what you have written.
Honesty is the only place I know of where we can begin, and begin again. The bitter-sweetness of Elisabeth’s life is a thread that weaves through all of my days. Your comment is a lovely gift. Thank you.
I remember the day sweet little Elisabeth went to Heaven. I still think of her & her garden room, dress-up clothes & tea parties.
Reading you story brought tears to my eyes.
Heather thank you so much for writing this story…………. your honesty re the Smart family is overwhelming.
I only hope how you used the water to throw away your anger, hate etc will help me in the future. Again Thank you. We may live more than two doors down but your love & wisdom still shines.