The Final Leap

The post title is actually the title of a book by John Bateson ( http://www.amazon.com/The-Final-Leap-Suicide-Golden/dp/0520272404/ref=cm_cr_pr_product_top).
L called me a little while ago to tell me that the author was on a local radio talk show and I managed to catch the second half of the show. There wasn't anything new being discussed, I've read enough about the subject to know the numbers and the issues, it's just good to know that somebody actually wrote a book about it.
I'm not going into what I heard on the show, not even the one not so smart comment by a caller.
What I do want to mention is what was being said at the very end: The Golden Gate Bridge Authority is in charge of everything that happens on and to the bridge and they are making absolutely no effort to secure funds for the approved barrier. They are putting plenty of effort into raising money for bike barriers and a center divider to prevent car crashes and for a new tourist center. The ones trying to raise money and/or securing funds are the people of the Bridge Rail Foundation (us). The author also mentioned that if there was more pressure from the public, things might be a bit different. But we all know how far too many San Franciscans feel about this issue.



It's that time of year again, time when high school seniors graduate. As we've done in previous years, we are handing out scholarships at the public high schools in town. The first presentation was last week Wednesday and, as usual, L made me do the speech while he stood in the background. But then he had a work emergency and I had to do Thursday's presentation by myself - for the first time ever. I was more than a little nervous and I have no idea how things went - I always rely on him for for feedback. It's always positive and I think it has a lot to do with the fact that he simply doesn't want to stand behind that microphone; he does enough presentation and speeches at work. Anyway, the whole thing was over so fast, it was a total blur and I think it went okay.
The recipients were, as always, chosen by the counselors at the schools, I just provide a list of criteria and, if there are questions, I'm happy to provide additional input. So, when I receive a thank you from a mother for choosing their child, I feel a little like a fake. I didn't do the choosing.
Yesterday, we received 2 thank you cards and today, there was a small package in the mailbox. Another thank you card along with a small gift and another thank you in DVD format. I am so touched that somebody would go to all this trouble.
I have to say, this is the best "job" I've ever had. Hate the reason for doing this, but it sure feels good to, hopefully, help somebody else.


The Fifth Annual Bridge Visit

 As I wrote in the previous post, it's that day again. It was surprisingly cool on the bridge, windy and quite foggy. Parking was a problem, too, but we made it eventually, tied our flowers to the rail and a big cable and took the obligatory pictures and left. No reason really to hang around, is there?
We then drove across the bridge into San Francisco to take our nice in-laws to lunch and checked to see if the flowers were still there - they were. On the way back, though, about 2 hours later, they were gone. It's not that we didn't expect it, though. We knew that would happen.
The ones I tied to the mailbox are still there, though, those forget-me-nots I grow just for Henry.

Five years

It's that day again, the anniversary of that horrible day when Henry died. And, just as we've done every year since then, we will be going to the bridge - with flowers and pictures this time around. L's sister and her husband will meet us again, we'll tie flowers to the rail, take a picture or two and, in my case, marvel again at how Henry could have had enough courage to do what he did (because, believe me, when you stand at that rail and look down, it's a long, long way down and I, for one, think it takes courage to make that move.). And wonder yet again why he did what he did.
I had a message from a friend on Facebook that made me cry already today and I'm not much of a crier. Nice words about the things I've done over the years, the education, the attempts to make people aware and it feels that maybe it was the right thing to do.
I've been struggling the last few weeks trying to decide how to find the right balance between honoring Henry's memory and not overdoing it. What's right? What's too much? I still don't know. This year, there are no slide shows, no lengthy posts (except for this one). Doesn't mean I don't still miss him, that I don't still wonder and that I don't still have many, many questions.
Miss you so much, Henry. ♥Mum♥