My 15yod Aiyana came back from bio-Mum’s after 5 weeks away to report that a couple of her friends — likeable, personable girls — had made a suicide pact, bought the tickets to get there, chosen the building to jump out of, the whole box and dice. And she did something that very few teens would have the courage to do. Knowing that she would be ridiculed for doing it, she looked them straight in the eye and said “No. You’re not going to do this. Even if you hate me for it, I’m blowing the whistle.” And did.
Her high school rosters responsible students as grief counsellors, and she was rostered on that week, so on top of having some fellow students taunt her mercilessly for being a tattle-tale (which she’d expected), she had to talk to many friends of the two about it and many “randoms”; the crowning glory was having to talk to complete hypocrites who were there mainly to get out of class time — including one girl who actively hated both of the two. Aiyana was hard put not to deck her — a statement you have to know Aiyana to fully appreciate (she avoids conflict wherever possible) — and sent her straight back to class.
One act of selfless responsibility like that can make you feel that the many hundreds of near-sleepless nights, chasing the other parent all over the state, the custody battles, the inevitable disappointments that come just from being human and so on were all worth it. Even if you didn’t love her dearly in the first place, which we all do.
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