All deaths are horrible but suicide leaves so many questions open, so much blame.
She was unhappy, but none of us knew the extent to which she suffered, or that she was taking antidepressants, or that she took herself off of them.
She supported her friends so much that she didn't take enough care of herself.
After she died, I began making origami-esque cranes out of
porcelain slabs. I gave two to her mother and sister, one to her mother in
law. I kept one.
I folded dozens out of paper the first week after her
death, coated them in porcelain, and fired them. They are fragile, like our lives.
We've all heard the story of the thousand
cranes and how they represent hopes for peace. My cranes give me a bit
of hope- hope to make more, hope to make them better, hope to make them a
memorial for her. I don't believe that I
will ever sell these- they're too close, especially right now.
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