Historically, April 15 is a day that seems to be cursed. It is the day that Abraham Lincoln died and the Titanic sunk. It is also tax day in the US.
Monday, April 15, 1991 was the day that I lost Lori.
I was 15 years old, she was 23.
This photo was taken almost 2 months to the day before she died.Up until that point I had been a normal teenager full of typical teenage angst and drama. On April 14, I made my Confirmation in the Catholic Church. Lori stood by my side as my sponsor. We had a big family party and had lasagna for dinner. I remember that Lori and I had made plans to go shopping on Wednesday because I had a half day at school.
The very next day, Monday, April 15, 1991 at 5:00 p.m., a man, Paul Blades, walked into the tanning salon where Lori was working and brandished a gun. Of the six shots fired, three hit and ultimately killed my cousin. You can read the events of that day in all its judicial clarity here.
This event shook my family to the core. She was 23 years old, innocent, and full of life. In one tragic instant, evil walked into our lives and took a piece of our future.
As an adult I have pinpointed this day as the day that I became broken. Lori was like my older sister. I loved her more than anyone in the world. I admired her for being so genuine, kindhearted, and sweet. She often marveled at my brazen outspokenness and propensity for mischief. She was the good one and I was…not so much. Since the day I was born she was always with me, teaching me the ins and outs of life. Without her I lost the one person who loved me unconditionally. I’d lost my role model, my compass. If the world was just, I should have been the one who died that day.
I don’t think I have ever said those words out loud. I believed it then and part of me still believes it 18 years later. Sitting here now, writing about Lori and what happened that day the pain is a raw as ever. She deserved to live so much more than I did. She never would have made the selfish mistakes that I have. In my life I have willfully lied, cheated, stole, hurt people, and hurt myself. She would have brought so much happiness and light into the world where I have only left patches of darkness. I still don’t know how to reconcile this. I still mourn the fact that I have been forced to live this life without her.
The very next day, Monday, April 15, 1991 at 5:00 p.m., a man, Paul Blades, walked into the tanning salon where Lori was working and brandished a gun. Of the six shots fired, three hit and ultimately killed my cousin. You can read the events of that day in all its judicial clarity here.
This event shook my family to the core. She was 23 years old, innocent, and full of life. In one tragic instant, evil walked into our lives and took a piece of our future.
As an adult I have pinpointed this day as the day that I became broken. Lori was like my older sister. I loved her more than anyone in the world. I admired her for being so genuine, kindhearted, and sweet. She often marveled at my brazen outspokenness and propensity for mischief. She was the good one and I was…not so much. Since the day I was born she was always with me, teaching me the ins and outs of life. Without her I lost the one person who loved me unconditionally. I’d lost my role model, my compass. If the world was just, I should have been the one who died that day.
I don’t think I have ever said those words out loud. I believed it then and part of me still believes it 18 years later. Sitting here now, writing about Lori and what happened that day the pain is a raw as ever. She deserved to live so much more than I did. She never would have made the selfish mistakes that I have. In my life I have willfully lied, cheated, stole, hurt people, and hurt myself. She would have brought so much happiness and light into the world where I have only left patches of darkness. I still don’t know how to reconcile this. I still mourn the fact that I have been forced to live this life without her.
Whenever I am in Burbank I visit her grave. Every time I visit I end up lying next to her headstone sobbing. She is resting on a hill near a tree at the Forest Lawn Cemetery in the Hollywood Hills. It is so beautiful and peaceful there. Many times I’ve gone there and wished that I never had to leave. If there was a way I could have dug a hole right next to her and crawled in I would have.
The view from where she rests.In 1993 when I graduated from high school I went there. Before I left California in 1996 I went there. At the beginning of our honeymoon Eric and I went there. I went there many times while I lived in Arizona and was self destructing. I went there when I decided to leave Arizona and divorce Eric. I went there when I met Robert and we got married. I went there when I found out I was pregnant with Vincent. I went there over and over, time and time again to pour out my soul to a patch of grass that is now all I have left. I’d never planned to live this life without her. Her absence has been the hollow ache I’ve felt in my heart during every joy and sadness I have experienced since that day.
I have not lived my life in testament to what she taught me. Instead I started walking down a path of self loathing that I have allowed to contaminate almost every experience of my life. It is only when I reach deep within myself and am totally honest that I feel hopeful. Writing all of this has been painful and it has taken me a long time to get it out.
As a wife, mother, and woman I want to honor her memory. I want to cast all my daemons aside and truly realize who I am. I want to be a person that she would be proud of. Most importantly however, I want to be a positive role model for my daughter, her namesake, Vivianne Lorraine.
In her I've found hope.
I have not lived my life in testament to what she taught me. Instead I started walking down a path of self loathing that I have allowed to contaminate almost every experience of my life. It is only when I reach deep within myself and am totally honest that I feel hopeful. Writing all of this has been painful and it has taken me a long time to get it out.
As a wife, mother, and woman I want to honor her memory. I want to cast all my daemons aside and truly realize who I am. I want to be a person that she would be proud of. Most importantly however, I want to be a positive role model for my daughter, her namesake, Vivianne Lorraine.
In her I've found hope.
I remember when Lori died. I am so sorry, Michelle, that you had to go through such an awful tragedy. Nothing can change a life like a death.
ReplyDeleteOh Chelle, this brought tears to my eyes. You have such raw emotion...I can feel it. It's a blessing that you're writing this blog as I'm sure it will not only help heal some things within you, but in others that you touch as well. xoxox Tami
ReplyDeleteYou poured out your heart and it's such an honor to be on the list of those you trust to read it :)
ReplyDelete"Death ends a life, not a relationship."
ReplyDeleteJack Lemmon
After reading your story I felt compelled to leave you the above quote. Burbank is the proverbial small town...a lot and that is how I came across your blog. Thank you for writing it and God Bless you and your family.