It is with tears non stopping tears that I read Mila's Story. I wanted to scream at those who are so accepting of all this but that would do little good so I turned my facebook banner black with a single beautiful daisy in the bottom corner and wrote in white lettering....In Memory of Mila. . I posted your story on my Facebook page and asked people to please read it-- “May you honour her young life by finally letting her voice be heard. No one would listen when she was begging to be heard. Please do not turn a cold shoulder and uncaring heart to this beautiful child -- she needs to be heard as it was silence and apathy that was the author of it.” I will never forget your precious daughter. Reading her writings is like stepping into the most beautiful heart. The loss of it is tragic. You are in my prayers and heart forever. Cindi Goodall.
Thank you for sharing your beautiful daughter. A rare gift to share. I will never forget your Mila nor will I forget your grief as you daily walk i down its path. Writing your words of grief and exposing your heart is another rare gift you are sharing . much love to you, Tara.
What an incredible young woman. And an absolutely brilliant writer just like her mama. Thank you so very much for sharing this Tara. It is a blessing to read her words.
I am a complete stranger, but I saw a 'light in your window' and came closer to take a better look. I extend to you my warmest greetings from Ireland as I pray for your family's heavy heart. I will continue to read Mila's words with reverence and with regret that I shall never have the privilege of meeting her beautiful spirit in this life. God bless you and your family and may Mila's gifts continue to ripple into future horizons for decades to come. I wish you healing, strength, and peace.
What a profound young lady she was.. I have just started reading your writings and today Milas writings.. I sit near with tears streaming down my face and think what an amazingly talented, in touch, and aware young lady..
Thank you, Tasha. I feel like those things, those tears and that willingness to connect to each other in these ways are as real as a handshake or a hug. What a gift to have another see beauty in our beloved Mila. Thank you, thank you.
Last night, I stumbled upon Mila's story after a friend told me about you a few weeks ago. Her story lead me here - to this place where you have so beautifully and heartbreakingly shared your experience in grief and the journey to finding her again in a whole new way. I started from the beginning and read every single post, each one building more wonder for the magnificent person she is. And for you, as her Mother, whose writing I am so grateful to absorb. And absorbed it, I have. My brother ended his life two months ago - I haven't found a comfortable way of saying that yet, because nothing feels right. By now, I know that no two grief experiences are the same, but here is the only place since he left that I have believed and found hope that I will find him again someday, somehow, if only I learn to seek him in a different way. Thank you so much. I will never forget Mila.
Dear Ramsey, thank you for your profoundly beautiful message. It's quite a wonder, how these connections come to us. You wrote this over a month ago now and I see it this morning, a sad morning. I had to go outside in the wee hours and the brightness of the stars stopped me. Then I felt such loneliness - the whole universe so vast and Mila so far away.
I am so very sorry that your brother ended his life. What a thing. What a thing. What a thing. And here you are carrying that. How are you today? Where are you?
I have been feeling like writing here may not be helpful, but maybe I should return. Leave a little trail of breadcrumbs just in case it might help, even just to find resonance with another when we feel so alone in our anguish. Thank you for your kind words. I don't think it's coincidence that your message came to me now. Would you be willing to share your brother's first name with me? I like to talk to people when I bumble around in the forest. Maybe I could say a little prayer and introduce myself.
Thank you so much for your response. I stood beside the ocean this past weekend and felt that same overwhelming loneliness that you describe. In a way, I'm comforted by the expanse and beauty of it all, but only when those I love are within reach. Now that my brother is somewhere unknown to me, I have so little understanding of space and time and our places within it all. It's like I'm relearning the world, only now weighed down by great loss. The load is heavy, but I remind myself that if it's a testament to my love for my brother, then I will gladly bear it. Today I'm at home, in Boston.
How am I? That's much harder to answer... I'm everything all at once. Equally numb and also in constant pain. One foot in a world where I pretend to be functional and participate in the mundane, for which I have little tolerance - and another where the void is dark and endless and scary. Existing between these spaces is so exhausting. I'm also angry. Very very angry. How are you these days?
I can only speak for myself, but I suspect that others would agree, your writing here has been a lighthouse through the storm for me as I struggle to keep my head above water. A speck of warm, welcoming light and connection on my worst days. I'll keep coming back and welcome anything new you might feel like sharing.
My brother's name is Logan. He loves the forest. It comforts me to think of you introducing yourself to him. I haven't been able to talk to him much yet, but I hope that one day I can.
It is with tears non stopping tears that I read Mila's Story. I wanted to scream at those who are so accepting of all this but that would do little good so I turned my facebook banner black with a single beautiful daisy in the bottom corner and wrote in white lettering....In Memory of Mila. . I posted your story on my Facebook page and asked people to please read it-- “May you honour her young life by finally letting her voice be heard. No one would listen when she was begging to be heard. Please do not turn a cold shoulder and uncaring heart to this beautiful child -- she needs to be heard as it was silence and apathy that was the author of it.” I will never forget your precious daughter. Reading her writings is like stepping into the most beautiful heart. The loss of it is tragic. You are in my prayers and heart forever. Cindi Goodall.
Thank you for your tears and for your compassion, Cindi.
Thank you for sharing your beautiful daughter. A rare gift to share. I will never forget your Mila nor will I forget your grief as you daily walk i down its path. Writing your words of grief and exposing your heart is another rare gift you are sharing . much love to you, Tara.
What an incredible young woman. And an absolutely brilliant writer just like her mama. Thank you so very much for sharing this Tara. It is a blessing to read her words.
Thank you, Elizabeth. It is a blessing to have her words read.
My goodness, Tara. The depth of feeling and awareness at her age. Brings tears to my eyes. Absolutely beautiful piece.
Thank you, Ashley, for letting her words into your heart.
I read this incredible piece in tears and will never forget it.
Thank you, Shirley.
I am a complete stranger, but I saw a 'light in your window' and came closer to take a better look. I extend to you my warmest greetings from Ireland as I pray for your family's heavy heart. I will continue to read Mila's words with reverence and with regret that I shall never have the privilege of meeting her beautiful spirit in this life. God bless you and your family and may Mila's gifts continue to ripple into future horizons for decades to come. I wish you healing, strength, and peace.
Thank you for your beautiful comment, Stella. I love that you came to take a better look at the "light in our window". What a beautiful image.
Mila shared a talent with her mama. She was a beautiful writer and, as evidenced in the words above, a very beautiful soul.
She was, and is, a beautiful soul indeed. Thank you, Amanda.
What a beautifully written heart-wrenching life-changing experience written by a clearly exquisite kind soul.
Thank you, Carolyn. She was, and remains, an "exquisite kind soul". Thank you for receiving that and reading her words. That's so precious to me.
What a profound young lady she was.. I have just started reading your writings and today Milas writings.. I sit near with tears streaming down my face and think what an amazingly talented, in touch, and aware young lady..
Thank you, Tasha. I feel like those things, those tears and that willingness to connect to each other in these ways are as real as a handshake or a hug. What a gift to have another see beauty in our beloved Mila. Thank you, thank you.
Last night, I stumbled upon Mila's story after a friend told me about you a few weeks ago. Her story lead me here - to this place where you have so beautifully and heartbreakingly shared your experience in grief and the journey to finding her again in a whole new way. I started from the beginning and read every single post, each one building more wonder for the magnificent person she is. And for you, as her Mother, whose writing I am so grateful to absorb. And absorbed it, I have. My brother ended his life two months ago - I haven't found a comfortable way of saying that yet, because nothing feels right. By now, I know that no two grief experiences are the same, but here is the only place since he left that I have believed and found hope that I will find him again someday, somehow, if only I learn to seek him in a different way. Thank you so much. I will never forget Mila.
Dear Ramsey, thank you for your profoundly beautiful message. It's quite a wonder, how these connections come to us. You wrote this over a month ago now and I see it this morning, a sad morning. I had to go outside in the wee hours and the brightness of the stars stopped me. Then I felt such loneliness - the whole universe so vast and Mila so far away.
I am so very sorry that your brother ended his life. What a thing. What a thing. What a thing. And here you are carrying that. How are you today? Where are you?
I have been feeling like writing here may not be helpful, but maybe I should return. Leave a little trail of breadcrumbs just in case it might help, even just to find resonance with another when we feel so alone in our anguish. Thank you for your kind words. I don't think it's coincidence that your message came to me now. Would you be willing to share your brother's first name with me? I like to talk to people when I bumble around in the forest. Maybe I could say a little prayer and introduce myself.
Thank you so much for your response. I stood beside the ocean this past weekend and felt that same overwhelming loneliness that you describe. In a way, I'm comforted by the expanse and beauty of it all, but only when those I love are within reach. Now that my brother is somewhere unknown to me, I have so little understanding of space and time and our places within it all. It's like I'm relearning the world, only now weighed down by great loss. The load is heavy, but I remind myself that if it's a testament to my love for my brother, then I will gladly bear it. Today I'm at home, in Boston.
How am I? That's much harder to answer... I'm everything all at once. Equally numb and also in constant pain. One foot in a world where I pretend to be functional and participate in the mundane, for which I have little tolerance - and another where the void is dark and endless and scary. Existing between these spaces is so exhausting. I'm also angry. Very very angry. How are you these days?
I can only speak for myself, but I suspect that others would agree, your writing here has been a lighthouse through the storm for me as I struggle to keep my head above water. A speck of warm, welcoming light and connection on my worst days. I'll keep coming back and welcome anything new you might feel like sharing.
My brother's name is Logan. He loves the forest. It comforts me to think of you introducing yourself to him. I haven't been able to talk to him much yet, but I hope that one day I can.
Phenomenal. Your daughter is phenomenal.