Reading, Listening, Remembering

Kaelin Glazier

Kaelin Glazier, age 15, missing since 1996, remains found 2008

My work days are taxing (no pun intended, given that tomorrow is “tax day” here in the U.S.).  I expend an enormous amount of energy living in the here-and-now.  I’d rather sleep, but that, too, is an exercise in effort.  Isn’t sleep supposed to be effortless?

I’ve spent this evening reading other people’s blogs.  Thank goodness for the respite of your lives, to sustain me in mine.  I also spent some time writing on another one of my blogs, one I share with a friend, so we keep it fairly invisible to the searching eye.  It’s therapy, ya know?

I’ve missed Owen terribly today.  I miss him every day, but some days are more cruel.  Today was one.

One of Lea’s old friends just learned this past weekend, of the fate of his missing daughter, Kaelin, aged 15.  She went missing in the mid-90s, and her remains were finally found, after all these years of her parents living within that tiny sliver of hope.  Like Owen, she did not go easily into the next life.  We are all devastated to learn of her ultimate demise.  And, like Owen, there are no answers as to how, who, or why. 

Lea and I have been talking over the past two days about how it is, that we’ve been surrounded by these untimely deaths.  Lea’s youngest brother, Mikey, died at the age of 19, the victim of a crime.  I met her soon after.  We discovered in short order that we were kindred spirits, living parallel lives, and we didn’t know why.  We just accepted it. 

Now, after these many years together, we ask ourselves, why have we known and loved so many young people who met early deaths, when so many others have never experienced anything close to this kind of devastation?  We can’t know.  Mom, where are you now, when I need you to rub my head and say, as you so often did, “You’re strong, Lindy.  You’ll make it through this.” 

I can’t imagine that I’ll find an appropriate song for tonight’s short post.  But, off I go now, on a hunting expedition. 


At last, I find a sound, a feeling, if not the exact words I’d hoped. 

Song for the night: False Faces, Dan Fogelberg (“…and, there’s so much forgotten and too much recalled…” and “…I saw the face of a child…”)  These words certainly reveal our loss and those of our friends in an unbelievable way.


~ by Linda on April 14, 2008.

4 Responses to “Reading, Listening, Remembering”

  1. “Isn’t sleep supposed to be effortless?”

    You would think so, wouldn’t you? Unfortunately, it is something that few people in my life understand. Nighttime and sleep bring me nothing but misery. “Why don’t you try and get some sleep?” my mom/dad/sister/etc. say. If only it were that easy.

    Hope you had peaceful dreams last night, that the monsters in the proverbial closet did not rear their ugly head.


  2. Your posts are so poignant and my empathy is so inadequate. I too posted this song. It was regarding the estrangement between my husband and his youngest daughter…she knows he has cancer and still keeps herself from him. We learned that the loss includes never knowing three beautiful grand daughters…these losses can’t compare to your hurting heart…it is loss that leaves us so empty…my words are so inadequate…just know that you are not alone here in cyberspace…

  3. She was pretty

  4. Was glad to see you had come over to my house for a little light. i enjoy when I notice that you drop by, as if for a cup of tea and my world-famous chocolate chip cookies!

    You know i only speak of the long-buried dark here and don’t carry it over to my ‘public’ life; but I am glad to know that my site gives you some pleasure, if only for a moment. Maybe you will think to visit when you want a book for Ruby. namaste’

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