Loss of a Child

My daughter was 13 years old when she lost her friend, Anna, who was 12.

Anna was Inuvialuit, a native girl from the Western Arctic, a beautiful child, with long curly black hair, round cheeks, with such a laugh and a presence that could light up a room. Anna was adopted by a non-native family and she grew up in town in Canada’s Northwest Territories with my daughter, Grace.

At that time, it was the early 80’s, little to nothing was known about Fetal Alcohol Spectrum Disorder (FASD). It was first named by researchers in the US in 1978 -the year before Anna’s birth. As most people now know, if a mother drinks alcohol during her pregnancy, her child may have certain physical, mental, emotion difficulties. Each unborn baby is affected by the mother’s drinking alcohol in a different way. Each will have their own challenges and, of course, their own strengths.

FASD is often called an invisible disorder because there are often no outward signs of disability. The person may have average or above average intelligence. That’s not the problem. Social difficulties and poor consequential thinking set a child up for challenges at school. There can be physical weakness or lack of concentration. These symptoms are often mistaken for other disorders or problems.

Alcohol abuse in the Northwest Territories is epidemic. An indigenous mother and her family can be completely overwhelmed and unable to cope when alcohol addiction is rampant. Many non-native families from southern Canada came up to Canada’s North to work and some adopted a Northern child. In those days, many adopted children had FASD but the families who adopted them did not know. Nobody knew.

Anna’s difficulties, social and intellectual, really surfaced when she started school. She struggled to learn, and friendships were difficult. But Anna and Grace, knowing each other all their short lives were always friends. When our family left the North and moved down South, Anna had moved there too. That was in Grade 4. Both missed where they had grown up and felt some comfort spending time together on weekends and visiting with each other's families.

By Grade 6, Anna’s behaviour was becoming really challenging. She didn’t want to go to school. She couldn’t concentrate and she couldn’t learn. Her behaviour was impulsive and risky. She was frustrated and unhappy. What was wrong with her? Nobody had the answer. Her mother was finding things difficult and Anna was sent to a boarding school in the North. It seemed to be a perfect fit and specialised in outdoor activities. There were horses. But Anna told Grace she hated it.

When she came home for the summer holiday, her behaviours were worse. A family tragedy took place and Anna was not coping at all. Counselling wasn’t helping. Finally, FASD was suspected.

Things went from bad to worse so it was arranged for Anna to go back to boarding school for summer camp. She did not want to go and begged to stay home.

That was in August. My daughter, Grace, was at the lake for a week with a different friend and the friend’s family. We hadn’t seen Anna in a while.

One morning, I got a call from a friend up North. She said, “Did you hear what happened? Anna is dead. She killed herself.”

I didn't want Grace to know until she came home from the lake. I didn’t want her to cope with this by herself, away from her family. But she found out. She phoned and said she wouldn't come home. She said she was ok, she really was, she said.

By the time she got home the announcement was in the newspaper and Grace read it. I will never forget her face. She went completely white. She could barely stand. She said, “So it’s true?” Up to that point, she had not processed what had happened at all. Grace then found out that Anna had taken her own life by swallowing pills.

Apart from being overwhelmed by grief, Grace confided that she was full of rage at Anna for what she had done and that she didn’t know what to do with those feelings. On top of that, she could not cope with her guilt. When Anna had phoned that summer, Grace said that she had often not picked up. She said Anna’s drama and pain were so great that she was worn out and couldn’t cope any more. Now she felt so bad about ignoring her and she couldn’t bear it.

Fortunately for our family, a friend, Corey, was an Art Therapist and Grief Counsellor. When she heard what had happened, she said, “Bring her to me immediately. This will affect her all her life and could damage her for years if she is not supported through this.”

This next part of the story is the most miraculous and healing and is the part that made me want to write this story and share with others who might understand. It is worth reliving the pain to tell it.

I was present for the session Corey had with my daughter. The first thing she asked was for Grace to draw a picture and she gave her paper and crayons. Grace drew a picture of a young girl, from the back. The girl had long curling black hair. She held her hands high above her head as though in joy towards a huge yellow sun encircled by in a massive rainbow.

Corey said, “Tell me about your picture. Who is it?”

Grace shook her head, like she was shell shocked. “I don’t know.” Then she said in wonder, “It’s Anna.” The tears poured.

Then Corey led Grace through a – what can I call it? – a guided visualisation comes closest- when she invited her to wrap her body in layers and layers of a golden membrane made of golden light. I realised that she was putting a protection around her.

Corey then encouraged Grace to speak to Anna and tell her how she felt and ask her what happened.

Grace started talking to Anna, like she was there. Grace then told us what Anna was saying back to her. There was no hesitation, none. It was like she was in the room and she was the only one who could hear her.

Grace wanted to know why. “Why did you do that?” And this is what Anna said.

"I was really upset about going to the horse camp and I wanted to go home. I had a bottle of pills with me that the doctor gave me, to help me cope. The way I looked at it was this. The doctor knows that I am having problems, he knows what I’m like. The doctor would never have given me all these pills if they were strong enough to seriously hurt me so if I take a whole lot of them I might just get sick. If I get sick, then they will have to send me home. And I just want to go home."

That was her logic then.

Anna told Grace that she was in the dormitory and there was no one else there. She took the whole bottle of pills. She told Grace that she knew a helicopter had to be sent to take her to the nearest hospital. She remembered being airlifted into it although she was unconscious. Anna told how she remembered lying in the hospital bed and the doctors frantically hooking her up to all kinds of tubes and machines. It was panic stations. Then Anna said, “I only just got out in time.”

Grace asked her what she meant.

Anna said, “It was time to go. My soul was leaving my body. I was nearly out but still in my left foot, just as they put in the last life support tube. I was stuck! But I struggled hard and I just got out in time. I would have just had to stay in that bed, kept alive by machines. I just got out in time.”

Anna said to Grace, “I am so sorry. I didn’t mean to kill myself.” She told Grace how hard her life was when she was alive and how she suffered and struggled. She said now she was released, she was different, she was healed and she was made whole. She promised Grace that she was truly happy and at peace.

My daughter, at this time, was 13 years old. Ideas about life support and souls leaving a body just in time to avoid a living death, a coma, were not part of her life experience or knowledge. She did not know the details of Anna's death which were verified afterwards. Only Grace knew that Anna did not take the pills deliberately to end her life but only to get her own way. The details, the explanation… I was not expecting any of this.

Driving home afterwards, Grace said that anger and pain were now going. She seemed to be peaceful for the first time since she had come home.

Anna died a few days before her 13th birthday. My daughter is an adult, a mother herself, but every year that passes she remembers the dates of Anna’s birthday and day she died. She is a hypnotherapist and supports those in pain and crisis. I wonder if her compassion and inspiration for others came in part from this experience of loss.

I still have that picture my daughter drew and the joy of that child standing before the sun. She was alive, not dead, healed, and at peace. The poet Kahlil Gibran wrote, "If one should say to you that the soul perishes like the body, answer the flower withers but the seed remains."