Vale Margaret Robinson ( Robyn ) Lindsay ( nee Chittick ) Born 6th September 1928 Died 4th August 2010
In the shroud of profound loss that suicide casts upon those left behind, memories of the loved ones can be obscured by the weight of their silent struggles.
In the 21st century, there is a growing recognition and compassion for those wrestling with the insidious grip of depression. Families now find solace in newfound support systems, helping them navigate the complex emotions surrounding the tragic choice of a loved one.
This poem seeks to articulate the nuances of my mother’s pain and remembrance, shedding light on the enduring impact of mental health challenges and the evolving empathy that surrounds them.
🌹🕊️ May peace embrace the echoes of her story.
In the heart of farming land, where fields unfurled,
Lived a soul, a woman, in a melancholy world.
Born into the hushed years of the Great Depression,
A beauty with auburn waves, a silent confession.
Amidst the bovine whispers and the country air,
She masked her struggles with grace and care.
A daughter of the farm, in shadows she’d roam,
Bearing a heavy heart, a burden all her own.
Her family, a tableau of rustic delight,
Yet, within her, raged an internal fight.
The effort to don a brave face for all to see,
Veiled the storm within, a tempest silently.
In the dance of sunlight on the landscapes’ embrace,
She wore a facade, a delicate veneer of grace.
Auburn strands caught the winds of despair,
As she navigated a world that seemed unfair.
Depression’s grasp, a relentless, unseen chain,
She carried the weight, endured the silent pain.
A puzzle to those who couldn’t comprehend,
The battles fought when the daylight would end.
Alone in her struggles, she faced the abyss,
In the quiet corners where her demons exist.
The beauty that adorned her like a fragile thread,
Yet, in solitude, she found a path to tread.
The farm, witness to her silent cry,
As she soared beyond the earthly sky.
In the solitude of her departure, a poignant song,
A life complex, where her spirit belonged.
Oh, auburn-haired soul, now free from strife,
May you find solace in the afterlife.
In memoriam, we remember your silent plea,
A woman of the farm, now forever free.