Responses to Reporter's Questions

Following is the response I sent to the Seattle Post-Intelligencer on May 1. The reporter's questions are in white, followed by my responses. I think it gives a good overview of who Debbie was, at least from the perspective of some of her family.

I see that Debra was born in Seattle, but where was she raised and what was childhood like for the family. Did you all stay in the same area, move around a bit?

After Seattle (1969) we moved to Wenatchee (1970), where our brother, Steve Hamilton, was born. From there we went to Upper Michigan (1970-72), then to Green Bay, WI (1972-73), to Ohio (1974), back to Upper Michigan (1975), to Missouri (1976-80), and then to Omaha, NE (1980-87). Debbie graduated from Ralston High School (Ralston is a suburb of Omaha) in 1987. In short, we moved a lot.

To characterize our childhood…
Essentially it was not so great. We moved a lot, and even when we stayed in the same city, we moved to different houses or back and forth between our mom, dad, and relatives. Our mom was essentially a single parent of 3 kids, working the evening shift as a nurse. Our biological father, Alex Hamilton, was an alcoholic, and was in and out of our life sporadically. Our parents divorced when Debbie was 3, and our mom remarried when Debbie was 5. Our step-father, Del, was controlling and abusive. Somehow, our family weathered the bad times, went through a lot of counseling, and stayed together. My mom and Del are still married today, and he has transformed his life. But the difficulties from childhood hit Debbie harder than anyone else. She was, I suppose, predisposed to alcoholism and depression. She was especially sensitive and sweet as a child, and she seemed to attract bad people. It was a deadly combination.

In her own words (from a autobiographical essay she wrote): Home was never a welcoming, safe place, but rather a dreaded destination. From the outside, I’m sure we looked like a typical upper middle class family. On the inside, we were individuals coexisting under a regime of intimidation and secrecy. As a result, the loving, innocent, outgoing personality I entered this world with was transformed. I became insecure, fearful, and painfully shy.

Debbie discovered alcohol when she was 13 or so, when she began a self-destructive path. Throughout her teens, she struggled with alcohol abuse, eating disorders, cutting, and risky sexual behavior. She also had an abusive boyfriend for a couple years, a relationship which we tried repeatedly to get her out of. She went to in-patient treatment a couple times and was also hospitalized for depression while we lived in Omaha. She had her 18th birthday while in treatment and ended up in a halfway house after that. She never returned home to live with the family.

I struggled with my insecurities and could not stand to be alone. My eating disorder had a strong hold on me, and it seemed I always had to be doing something self-destructive. I longed to be in a relationship, but always went after the wrong kind of guy. After 18 months, I relapsed. Within a matter of a few weeks I had been in a car accident, gotten kicked out of my apartment, had my stomach pumped (again), was assaulted, and was raped by four men I did not know. I had three different encounters with the police, but was let go each time. Oh yeah, I was also introduced to cocaine.

Where does Debra fall in the sibling line? Is she the oldest, youngest, in between? I see you have the names posted of Debra’s children, but what are the names of all her siblings?

• Michelle Freeland (nee Hamilton), sister, Minneapolis, MN
• Tammy Hurt, step-sister, Charlotte, NC
• Debbie
• Cindee Campbell (nee Hurt), step-sister, Apex, NC
• Steve Hamilton, brother, Cartersville, GA
• Michele Kennedy (nee Hurt), step-sister, Fort Lewis, WA
• Aimee Hurt, half-sister, Missoula, MT

Tammy, Cindee, and Michele are Del’s children from a previous marriage. They lived with us during the summer throughout our childhood. Aimee is our mom and step-dad’s daughter who lived with us. Our brother, Steve, lived most of his life with our biological father in Upper Michigan.

If you know, how long did her first marriage last?

Debbie met her first husband in AA in Omaha. They left Omaha for Seattle where they had their first child and then got married in 1989. They had three children together (Brandon, Emily and Olivia) and were married for about 10 years.

Her obituary said that Debra was an early childhood and special needs teacher. Can you tell me how she got into that line of work, why she liked it, and maybe the most recent places she worked?

This from my mom: “Ever since I can remember she’s taken care of kids, and loved babies. Her dream was always to work with special needs kids. She worked with difficult kids and even adults. I think she always had a feeling of wanting to protect these kids.”

It is ironic that I will be parenting her children now, because I always felt like Debbie was the more natural mother—endlessly patient, organized, loving. It was like she was created to love and nurture children. But ultimately she was too damaged to do it all—to save them and save herself too.

Debbie always worked in early childhood jobs, and especially had a passion for working with special needs and medically fragile children. In 2000-01, she was a single parent, working full-time and getting her degree in education at Central Washington University. She graduated Magna Cum Laude, with an Early Childhood Education major; Elementary Education minor; Washington State Initial Teaching Certificate, Endorsements: P-3, K-8. Other education and volunteering: CPR and First Aid Certification, Suicide Intervention Training, Literacy tutor for adults, play therapy volunteer with disabled youth. This last year in Seattle, she also volunteered at a women’s domestic abuse shelter.

To our knowledge, she did not work outside the home in this last year. Before that, she worked as an Instructional Assistant at the Children’s Institute for Learning Differences in Mercer Island, WA. I’m afraid I don’t have much more information on her specific places of employment.

I gathered that Debra at one time dealt with a drinking problem, and I would interested in hearing what you would be willing to say about how she beat it, and how she coped.

I guess I pretty much covered this already. But during the time that she was married to her first husband, she seemed to have it under control. She had a stable long-term job, a great house, and was doing what she was great at—being a mom to her kids. But she was never happy in her relationship, and as it turns out, all the chaos was still there, just beneath the surface.

Somehow, not even the love I felt for my children or their love for me could fill that empty place inside of me. I always felt like I was on the outside of life looking in. I was well respected and liked at my job as a preschool teacher, but I felt like an imposter. I thought if the parents only knew who I really was they wouldn’t want me around their children. But I was good with kids. It was my passion. I was very attentive and involved with my children and tried to give them the childhood that I did not have.

After 10 years, my marriage ended. It was a relief and it was devastating all at the same time. It meant letting go of the dream I had for our family. It meant being alone. It meant facing the unknown. Instead of using drugs and alcohol to get me through, I turned to God. I began going to church, singing in the choir, and I was baptized. I started exercising and playing the piano. I started learning Spanish. I started becoming my own person.

The next year and a half were filled with extreme ups and downs. I got involved with a married man, I graduated from college top of my class, I went through a bitter custody dispute, I bought my own house. The roller coaster ride was accompanied by my true best friends, drugs and alcohol. I was drinking pretty much every day, but in small quantities. I also started doing cocaine on a daily basis. I usually snorted it, but I also learned how to smoke it. It wasn’t making my life any easier, but I was caught up in the lifestyle of a single woman. I was doing what most people do in their early twenties, but I was 31 and had three children.

After that, the addictions took over, so the short answer to your question is that she didn’t really beat it. But in this last year of her life, she had been working on trying to beat it in a way that we had never seen before. It was like she was really serious about making a change. She was seeking and getting help for herself. She was starting to make better decisions and was hopeful. We all were.

I’d like to find out how she met her current husband, Juan Carlos, and what the family thought of him at first. Also, did he go by Carlos?

She met Carlos (yes, he goes by Carlos) through a friend at a party or bar where she would go salsa dancing, don’t remember exactly which. The family’s first interactions with Carlos were not positive. He didn’t seem to be good for Debbie. He couldn’t hold a job, hadn’t finished high school, had addiction issues, all the kinds of things that a family would hate, right? But, Debbie loved him, and he did have some good qualities. He was an excellent cook (I tried to encourage him to go to cooking school), he was artistic, and he was a talented, though unschooled, writer. He had promise, and since Debbie loved him, we tried to accept him into our family. We worked with him to try to help him get jobs and to finish his education. We bought the family a van, so Carlos would have transportation to a job. I’m sure we enabled them as much as we helped them. It was so hard to know how to help. Even now, however, I’m having trouble mustering up a hatred for Carlos. His story is also tragic. There’s plenty of dysfunction all around, and it’s a tragedy for Carlos’s family as well as ours.

How much did the family know about the abuse that was going on and how did Debra cope with it?

Of course in hindsight, it’s obvious that the abuse was going on for most of their relationship. At the time though, Debbie hid most of it from us. It wasn’t until they lived in Minneapolis in 2003-04, that we discovered that he was abusive. Carlos was jailed during that time for beating Debbie, while she was pregnant with Isabella. He also threatened to kill her. Debbie told me that he said to her that she should get into the tub so he could kill her. We got involved then and tried to get Debbie whatever help she needed to leave Carlos and be on her own. It was one of those toxic relationships that neither person can walk away from. I don’t think Carlos was happy either. I’m sure he wanted a different life for himself too, but because he started using drugs at a very young age, (age 9 he told me once), his development was completely stunted. He is really still a child. As for how Debbie coped with it—I just don’t know. Her life and mine were worlds apart, and I could never really understand how she could keep living that way, and especially how she kept going when things seemed to bleak. She had an amazing sense of humor and a way of laughing at herself and her life. She was insightful—she could cut through the crap and get right to the heart of a matter. She was smart and creative and witty. But she couldn’t untangle herself from her own sad circumstances, and she couldn’t overcome her demons.

I saw that last year she got that protection order. The judge ordered Juan Carlos to attend a batterer’s intervention program, get chemical dependency treatment, attend a parenting class, and visit the children only at a special visiting center made to protect women in her situation. I did call that agency, it's called Safe Havens, and learned that Juan Carlos never contacted them. Did he do any of the other things he was supposed to do?

To our knowledge, he did not do what he was supposed to, which seems to be his nature. I understand that part of what they were arguing about the night he killed Debbie was that he wasn’t doing the things he was supposed to be doing (the things you mentioned above).

I also noticed that they changed addresses a few times in the past few years, living in Minnesota and Alaska before returning to Washington state. Was this because of the legal troubles Juan Carlos was in? Or where there other reasons for the moves?

I would say that the moves were not specifically in response to Carlos’s legal problems. He never got in as much trouble as he should have for the things he had done, so he could easily serve a little time, and it didn’t seem to make much difference to him. I do know that Debbie was constantly seeking a fresh start. Each time she moved, she was hopeful that this would be the time that it would work out. She was especially hopeful in this last move to Seattle. She told my mom that she felt like she had come full circle in her life since she was back where she had been born and back where she and Carlos had first gotten together, and she was feeling stronger and motivated to make a change.

I don't know how much you know about the legal aspect of everything Debra tried, but she apparently told Meri that protection orders were pointless. Do you know why she would have said that and what her experiences had been in trying to deal with Juan Carlos' abuse?

I think what Debbie was getting at is that protection orders don’t address the real problems, such as her inability to stand firm in getting Carlos out of her life, her fear of being alone, her insecurities about being loved, Carlos’s disregard for the protection orders. She always felt that he would either break his way in, as he had in the past, or that she would let him in, as she had in the past. It wasn’t her first protection order—she’s had many of them.

I think like all abused women, she felt to some extent that she deserved the abuse she was getting. She was incredibly smart, but at her core, she was afraid and full of self-loathing. Carlos demeaned her about the weight she had put on and at the same time constantly accused her of cheating on him. She was dealing with health problems (high blood pressure, chronic bronchitis, chronic back pain from a disk injury, as well as a lifelong struggle with depression and anxiety), had five children, and was approaching 40. I know she felt like she could never find someone else to love her, and that terrified her.

She has stayed in domestic abuse shelters before but just never found her way out of the situation. It’s incredibly complex, and people that look at it as a simple stupid decision that she made to stay with an abusive husband are naïve at best. This is a story of a woman who suffered one loss after another, yet kept going. People are calling my husband and me heroic for taking the two youngest children into our home, but we are not heroic whatsoever. Not like Debbie, who pushed ahead day after desperate day, and who was in the end, still hopeful. Despite everything she had experienced in life and despite all the negative influences around her and despite physically and emotionally debilitating conditions, she was still hopeful. That is fucking heroic.

I also want to be able to describe in the story the kind of mother, daughter, sister she was, and how her children are dealing with all of this.

I think I’ve mostly covered how she was as a mother. When she was sober, she was amazing. We don’t kid ourselves about the reality though. When she was using, she was not available to her kids in the same way. But she still did her best. She gave her kids baths every night and made sure they brushed their teeth. It’s small things like this that show me that the mother in her was still there, taking care of the babies, even when the walls seemed to be crumbling around them.

As a sister, Debbie was challenging. Mostly because I didn’t know how to help her. I could never really figure out what my role should be. I had worked hard to overcome my life circumstances, but I wasn’t saddled with the addiction issues that she had. I didn’t want to seem like the perfect sister who had all the answers. I worried that she would think I thought I was better than her, which I never did. In our family, Debbie has always been the one to bring the family problems to light. Through her behavior, she always revealed the cracks in the façade, and we all had to deal with things that we mostly wanted to ignore and forget about. I don’t want to idealize Debbie or the relationship we had. In the last year, I had been unable to maintain a relationship with her. Her problems were too painful, as I had to again revisit old wounds, so I kept her at arm’s length. Of course, now I wish I had swooped in and forced her to do it differently. At the same time, I know that doesn’t work. We tried it repeatedly, and it never worked. I do know that I owe the life I have now to Debbie though. Because she wouldn’t let us ignore the problems our family had, I had to face things, and I had to make a choice about what I was going to do about it, and I chose to change my life. I don’t know where I would have ended up if not for her. In some ways, and not to be overly dramatic, but I feel like Debbie made the sacrifice, so that the rest of us could be saved.

How Debbie was as a daughter (from my mom):
"Never wanting to worry me or concern me about her life. Never wanting me to feel scared or frightened for her. She always listened to my concerns and expressed being hopeful that it could be better. She kept what was going on in her life private to protect me and the family because she didn’t want to hurt us. She definitely felt like she was the black sheep in the family. She was very warm and loving. I mostly just remember the warmth of her hugs and how genuine it felt. One thing that always struck me is that no matter how many times she moved as an adult or we moved when she was a child, she always made a home for herself. She hung pictures on the wall and decorated, even if the location was temporary. It was like she was always searching for a home. In the past year, while we were all hopeful, it also felt like things were escalating in terms of the violence. I lived in a state of constant dread that I would get the phone call that I did end up getting on April 18," [when the police called to say Debbie had been critically injured by her husband].

In terms of how the kids are coping, I think the short answer is remarkably well, but I don’t know that they really understand the finality of the situation. I can’t speak about the older kids who aren’t in my care, but the little ones are doing well. They cry at night, because they are scared or lonely, so they sleep together and also often sleep with us. It is especially difficult for Vince, who is almost 6, and who was strongly attached to Debbie. But nights are getting better, and during they day, they are playful and loving. Overall, we are optimistic that they will overcome what they’ve experienced and can be happy. They are what’s left to us of Debbie, and for once, I know exactly what my role is and how I can help.

Letter from Treatment July 14, 2007

Following is a letter that Debbie wrote to our family from an inpatient treatment center that she went to voluntarily after lining up care for the kids and going through detox. I came across the letter today while cleaning off my desk and thought it said a lot about the work she was doing to make a change in her life in this past year.

On another note, Debbie's ashes arrived yesterday. I couldn't deal with them and left the open box on the kitchen counter for the rest of the day. What a surreal existence it is when grief can be delivered to your house in a box.

Today is better. Tomorrow is Mother's Day of course, and we've decided not to celebrate it right now. We want to get more guidance on how to talk to Vince and Isabella when these milestones come up. We're meeting with a therapist on Monday to start the process.

Here's the letter:

Hi!

Happy birthday, Del! (I know it's past by now, but it's your birthday as I'm writing this.) I hope you got to spend it however you wanted.

I wanted to thank you guys for the card. It came at a good time because my mood was all over the place yesterday. I got letters from Brandon and Emily at the same time, so you all really lifted my spirits and made me feel like I was where I am supposed to be.

This place is alright. I felt like leaving as soon as I got here, but I knew I just needed to wait it out. It helped that I got a really great roommate, but yesterday was her last day. I'm hoping for another good one! There are a lot of people here and the men outnumber the women by at least 3:1, so it's a little intimidting, but I'm trying to open up (to the women!) and not hide in my room.

I still feel shakey and have lots of anxiety and mood swings--just another thing I'm trying to wait out. There's lots of things rattling around in my head now that the "fog" is clearing and I'm in a different environment.

I just wanted to tell you guys how much it means to me that you continue to support and encourage me. I know I've caused a lot of worry and stress and caused a lot of pain to a lot of people. Even though I tend to distance myself from the family, I always know that you are there and I am loved which is a great comfort to me. It doesn't seem like "I'm sorry" and "Thank you" are enough, but I want you guys to know that I love you. And thank you for loving me--no matter what.

I am glad I'm here. I wish it hadn't taken me so long, but I'm here at last. I'm really dedicated to learning some new life skills and trying to find the joy in life again instead of just getting through it. I am hopeful...scared and uncomfortable, but hopeful.

I should be able to use the phone starting the 24th, so I'll be talking to you soon. Take care--I love you all!

Love,
Debbie

Forging a New Family

In just 24 hours it will be three weeks since we received the awful phone call. I sometimes picture that moment when I sat up in bed, confused with sleepiness, and said hello. It was a flip of a switch moment. There's our life before that phone call, and our lives after, and little seems to be the same. It's unsettling to think that life can change so radically in an instant.

BUT with the help of our phenomenal friends and neighbors, we are moving ahead and squirming and elbowing and hollering our way into life as a family of seven. Yikes. Well, technically it's not a household of seven until Sid gets home tomorrow from St. Cloud State.

Every few days a meal arrives for us courtesy of the people from our kids' school. Wow. Last week, our good friend Lynn flew in from NYC to help out. She was a godsend--we got so much done while she took the kids out to the park, went on picnics, made worm houses, and rescued a baby bird our cat tried to kill. The kids are still talking about Lynn!

We are swimming in paperwork and appointments: doctors, dentists, kindergarten screening, counselors, victim's services, family protection, and attorneys. And we're adjusting our belongings and expectations to accommodate our small herd of kids. Yes, we now have a minivan. Hmm. Didn't see that one coming. And we bought a bigger house--well we are trying to buy a bigger house. The inspection was a bit distressing so we're working through that with the seller. We've also had our share of happy news, such as Vince getting into Burroughs (our community school that had a long waiting list) for kindergarten next year.

Little by little we chip away at what would have seemed an insurmountable challenge had we had time or wits to think about it. There's no preparing for this kind of thing, so we look about five minutes into the future at a time. So how will I ever figure out summer plans? I'm terrible at that kind of thing under the best of circumstances. I need an assistant who can do "calendaring"--ugh, I hate that word (is it a word or just business-speak?).

Vince and Isabella are fantastic. They are going to bed with little trouble and behave like normal four and five year-olds. Well, is it normal to want to eat every 30-60 seconds? They are looking forward to moving to a bigger house, so we can have a bigger yard with a swing set and so Vince can get a pet of his own--a newt (it could be worse).

The other evening Jon went in to comfort Vince who said he was really sad. We're trying to get him to differentiate his feelings more because he seemed to call everything sad, so Jon asked if he was sad or scared, and he said both. Jon asked what he was sad about, and he didn't want to say what it was. Jon was persistent and finally Vince said, "I can't tell you cuz I'm not supposed to miss my dad, am I?" Jon assured him that while what his dad did was scary and bad that it was normal and okay for Vince to miss him. Then Vince talked for quite a while about his dad and that he was in a cage now and asked if he was wearing orange clothes. Guess he's seen a few cop shows. Whew--we never know what's going to come up.

Eli and Annika have been amazing. Eli is definitely the big brother now, trying to make sure everyone knows the rules (and is duly chastised for not following them). Ani is happy to have a playmate and another person in the house who has to get her hair done in the morning but not always happy when I accidentally put Ani's clothes on Isabella. All four of the kids ran around playing in the yard today for about two hours, and only needed my intervention a couple times. It was fun to see them cooperating and creating the games together (something about a huge nest of eggs, kissing trees, and a giant web in the back yard--literally!). They're all trying to stake out their territory to some extent, and we've had to invoke numerous time-outs and coax many apologies, but they're a lot of fun and all very sweet. It's nice to have four little people to kiss goodnight and to hug in the morning.

Thanks,
Michelle & Jon

Debbie's family album

New update in Seattle paper

I apologize for the grim posting, but I know that some people don't know the whole story, so here it is...


DOMESTIC VIOLENCE FACTOR ADDED TO CHARGES

MURDER SUSPECT REPORTEDLY HAD HISTORY OF ABUSE

Thursday, April 24, 2008
Section: News
Edition: Final
Page: B2 BY HECTOR CASTRO P-I reporter

A Seattle man has been charged with second-degree murder, accused of repeatedly stabbing his wife with a 13-inch barbecue fork in front of their two young children Friday.

In filing the charges against Juan Carlos Bonilla, 33, King County Prosecutor Daniel Satterberg added an aggravating factor - that the slaying was committed as an act of domestic violence.


Debra Lynn Bonilla, 38, suffered at least a dozen stab wounds, including one to her heart, in the attack at her Beacon Hill home. She died at Harborview Medical Center several hours after the attack. She had five children, three from a previous marriage.

Juan Carlos Bonilla was ordered held in the King County Jail on $1 million bail. He will be arraigned May 6.

If convicted, he would be looking at a standard range of 12 to 20 years in prison, though prosecutors have indicated they may seek an exceptionally higher sentence.

Bonilla has a history of assaulting his wife, according to court documents.

In 2001, when the couple lived in Alaska, Bonilla allegedly beat his then-pregnant wife, breaking her nose. He also allegedly threatened to stab her to death.

In 2003 in Minnesota, Bonilla was arrested for assaulting his wife, but it was unclear if he was convicted. Last year, Seattle police arrested him again for assaulting her.

Debra Bonilla sought a protection order that day, writing in her petition that her husband threatened to kill her if she cheated on him and constantly believed she was unfaithful.

It was unclear what may have set off Juan Carlos Bonilla on the night he is accused of killing his wife.

A roommate told police she had dinner with the family earlier that evening and spent time afterward with Debra Bonilla as the woman described the problems in her marriage, including her husband's drinking.

Debra Bonilla told the woman that "the protection order was basically unenforceable because Juan Carlos would always come back and force his way into the house."

Later that same night, the family ferret escaped. Debra Bonilla asked her roommate to help catch the animal, but the roommate declined and headed for her room.

Minutes later, she heard a scream. It wasn't long before the couple's 6-year-old son ran to the roommate for help, screaming, "Daddy stabbed Mommy!"

The roommate found Debra Bonilla in the back yard, a bent and bloody barbecue fork nearby. When police arrived, Bonilla was still conscious. She told officers that her husband had attacked her, according to the court documents.

Then she said, "I am going to die."

Police used a dog to track Juan Carlos Bonilla.

Making our way in Minneapolis

It's Saturday evening, and we've made it through our second bedtime at home with all the kids. Bedtime used to take about 20 minutes for us, but so far, it's more like two hours. Vince and Isabella aren't used to a regular bedtime and are used to sleeping with Debbie. Add a new home, new family, and understandable fears, and they are practically sleep-resistant. It's a regular parade, with kids roaming from bed to bed, but Jon is laying down the law (as we all knew he would). Tomorrow, we're devising a bedtime routine, out of self-defense as much as anything.

Jon and Isabella both have strep throat, and Eli announced tonight that his throat hurts. We're keeping our fingers crossed that it doesn't hit all of us.

Jon's parents, Glenn and Joanne, who watched Eli and Annika while we were gone, have extended their stay until Tuesday in order to help us out. We're so grateful for their help.

We had a visit from a friend who brought several bags of toys to welcome the kids (courtesy of Guys' Poker Night winnings). He and his wife also loaned us their minivan and brought a couple meals. We're still learning what all went on at home while we were in Seattle, but when we arrived, beds and dressers had been set up for Vince and Isabella, including beautiful bedding. While we were gone, friends helped with our kids and brought meals, clothes, bedding, mattresses, a trundle bed, a dresser...it's just amazing.

We spent the day trying to organize the mudroom, adding shelves and coat hooks to accommodate the extra shoes, boots, coats, backpacks, etc. We're going to try to go through one room a day, purging and organizing. We already felt crowded before the family grew by two, so we also met with a realtor today to discuss options. Who knows what'll happen with that. We love where we live and don't want to leave our friends and community, so we're trying to think creatively about housing options.

Tonight, Vince and Jon had an interesting conversation. Vince always starts his questions by saying, "Hey, I have a question to tell you." Funny. So here's how it went:

Vince: Don't you know that guests only stay a short time?
Jon: Sure.
Vince: Then why did you call us guests?
Jon: I don't think I called you guests.
Vince: Yes, you told your kids that we were guests.
Jon: Oh, I didn't mean that you were guests. I was telling them to treat you like guests, so that you would feel comfortable in your new home. I'm sorry I confused you. You're not a guest. Okay? How long will you and Isabella be staying with us?
Vince: Forever?
Jon: Exactly. Forever and ever.

It's bittersweet watching these two try to make sense of things. It's also tough on Eli and Ani, since everything has changed for them too. We feel so protective of them all! And taking care of them helps get through the days. My mom is struggling with being home now with nothing to do and no one around. It's so hard to be alone with your grief. My very good friend sent me another Mary Oliver poem (I'm sure to be getting an email from Ms. Olivers' attorneys if I don't stop posting her work, but it's just so right. So sorry and thank you Mary Oliver!). Anyway, I'm posting it here for my mom.

Heavy
-Mary Oliver

The time
I thought I could not
go any closer to grief
without dying

I went closer
and I did not die.
Surely God had His hand in this,

as well as friends,
Still, I was bent,
and my laughter,
as the poet said,

was nowhere to be found.
Then said my friend Daniel
(brave even among lions),
"It's not the weight you carry

but how you carry it--
books, bricks, grief--
it's all in the way
you embrace it, balance it, carry it

when you cannot, and would not,
put it down."
So I went practicing.
Have you noticed?

Have you heard the laughter
that comes, now and again,
out of my startled mouth?

How I linger
to admire, admire, admire
the things of this world
that are kind, and maybe

also troubled--
roses in the wind,
the sea geese on the steep wave,
a love
to which there is no reply?

Sweet dreams,
Michelle

Hello from 30,000 feet,

We write this from the airplane as we head back to Minneapolis. It will be so great to be home! Vince and Isabella have asked us everyday how many more days until we go to Minneapolis, and this morning they kept hurrying us and asking if we were sure the plane was waiting for us. They talked to Eli and Annika on the phone last night, making plans with each other about things they could play with when everyone was together. It was really sweet.

Yesterday was the viewing. Vince was barely interested in getting close to Debbie’s body and went off in another room to play. He did say goodbye and said “I love you mommy”. Isabella wanted to stay by her mommy and asked many questions about what would happen to her mom next and what it would be like when her mommy was an angel. We went outside, and she picked a flower which we put in Debbie’s hand. It was the first time either of the kids cried about the death. Isabella sobbed for an extended period and then cried off and on the rest of the day, wanting to see her mommy again. Neither of them asks about their dad. We hope this day, as hard as it was, will provide some closure for them (or at least the start).

Today is good. They are looking forward to their new life and want to look at pictures of Eli and Ani over and over.

Jon and I have talked about all the incredible messages we’re receiving from friends and family. People have made incredible offers of generosity, and we have no doubt that we’ll be able to manage with all the support we have around us. Thank you all. We just can’t say it enough. We’ve also talked about the number of times we’ve been called “amazing” or “heroic” and feel the labels don’t really fit. We’re not doing anything extraordinary. We simply found ourselves in a horrible situation and are dealing with it the best we know how. People do it everyday. People trudge ahead – that’s the norm, and we can’t imagine an alternative. It’s what Debbie was doing her whole life, so what else could we do?

We’ll send out another update over the weekend after we get some sleep. We are both walking zombies right now.

Love you all,
M&J

Yesterday was the funeral, and it was really difficult. Brandon, Emily, and Olivia did a fantastic job planning their part. They chose perfect music and readings (including poetry that Deb had written). I'll try to get what they read and post it here. I read two poems from Mary Oliver, which I will include here. As I said during the service, Wild Geese is what I would have like to tell Debbie when she was still alive. The Journey is what I wanted to say to the rest of us who were struggling too and who are left to deal with the loss. Here they are:

Wild Geese

You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
For a hundred miles through the desert repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.
Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
Meanwhile the world goes on.
Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain
are moving across the landscapes,
over the prairies and the deep trees,
the mountains and the rivers.
Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,
are heading home again.
Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting-
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things.

Mary Oliver

I wish I could have told Debbie that the world was hers too and that she had a place in the family of things--a place that only she could hold. I would have wanted her to know that we didn't want her to be perfect, or even "good" as the poem says. We just wanted a world with her in it.

Here's the second poem.

The Journey

One day you finally knew
what you had to do, and began,
though the voices around you
kept shouting their bad advice--
though the whole house
began to tremble
and you felt the old tug
at your ankles.
"Mend my life!"
each voice cried.
But you didn't stop.
You knew what you had to do,
though the wind pried
with its stiff fingers
at the very foundations,
though their melancholy
was terrible.
It was already late
enough, and a wild night,
and the road full of fallen
branches and stones.
But little by little,
as you left their voices behind,
the stars began to burn
through the sheets of clouds,
and there was a new voice
which you slowly
recognized as your own,
that kept you company
as you strode deeper and deeper
into the world,
determined to do
the only thing you could do--
determined to save
the only life you could save.

Mary Oliver

The Journey is a poem that has helped me a lot throughout my adult life. I appreciate its message of sloughing off the old burdens and peeling away from the people that take too much. We are each ultimately walking a lone journey, one that can be lonely and painful and beautiful. It's practically an anthem for recovery, one that I think Debbie would have appreciated.

Michelle

Memorial Fund

Please send donations to:

M&I Bank
Attn: The Vince & Isabella Education Fund
651 Nicollet Mall
Minneapolis, MN 55402

Following is an excerpt from a writing by Debbie on 2/19/08:

My story is pretty typical, the kind of story you hear told and retold in recovery. The faces change, the cities change, and some of the gritty details change, but the feelings are all the same. The results are all the same; an agonizing, soul destroying, suicidal descent into desperate nothingness. The only thing that makes this story special is that it is mine......

It took the brutal honesty of the women in my group to inspire me. It has taken their vulnerability and their love to help me feel again. It has taken their encouragement to give me hope again.
I have been sober for 4 ½ months. It is nothing short of a miracle. It has been difficult, incredibly difficult, but then again so has the rest of it. I have such a long way to go, and I have no doubt that I am my own worst enemy. But I have glimpsed another way, and I long to see more. I have felt genuine happiness, and I want to feel more. I have come this far, and I want more.

(From Michelle)

Jon and I spent yesterday at the attorney’s office working through the process of getting permanent legal custody of the Vince and Isabella. It was incredibly draining, but also very encouraging. The attorneys are optimistic about the kids being placed with us.

Cleanup of the house continues, but we have divided up duties among us, so those of us who are struggling with being at the house don’t need to keep going back there. It’s incredibly difficult to be in Debbie’s home—impossible to deny the reality of what has happened when surrounded by the physical reality of her life. The house was a surprise to us. There was no evidence of the crime, and the normalcy of what we found was unsettling. Several years ago, when the family lived in Richfield, Carlos beat Debbie (and threatened to kill her), and we cleaned up the mess of blood and disarray. At that time the house revealed the chaos they were living, but this time nothing. The grief hits me hard when I’m there.

We had Animal Control pick up their two cats and ferret and had a moment of hilarity when another cat appeared right after Animal Control left, and Aimee wondered if we had sent the wrong cat away. We’re dealing with the cars, bills, etc.

We met with the funeral home yesterday and made arrangements for her viewing and cremation. Her older children have been very involved in the planning, and everyone feels good about the arrangements. The service will be at 1:00 tomorrow (Wed.), and the viewing for immediate family only on Thursday (tentatively, because the Medical Examiner has not released her body yet—frustrating).

The kids are remarkable. The older children are coping with incredible grace. The two younger children have accepted the current situation of being with our family and are playful and sweet. We have absolutely fallen in love with them! Jon and I are taking them to zoo today to get them out of the hotel. There’s plenty of heartbreak with them too. Isabella continues to talk about her daddy stabbing her mommy and that now they don’t have a daddy anymore, only a mommy. They believe that Debbie is at the hospital. Vince doesn’t talk about the incident at all. Isabella also asked why we came and if we didn’t want them to go to their daddy and get stabbed by him. What these children have experienced is beyond comprehension. There will be tough times ahead for all of us.

On a positive note, the support we’ve received from all of you is stunning. We requested declarations of support for us as parents, and they came pouring in this morning. We may need to reread them in the future to remind ourselves that we CAN do this. We’ve also received so many offers of help. Thank you all so much!! We feel very nurtured and supported.

We love you all,
Jon & Michelle
_____

From: Jon Freeland
Sent: Monday, April 21, 2008 10:25 AM
Subject: Update from Seattle

Hi everyone,

We are surviving here one day at a time. We all remarked last tonight that it feels like we’ve been here for a week now, although it’s only been 36 hours. The days have been long with lots of details to work through, but the busy work actually helps keep us focused and not dwelling to much on the mess.

We spent the afternoon yesterday with Brandon, Emily, and Olivia, Debbie’s oldest kids from here first marriage. You all may remember them from their trips to the lake with us. They have been living with their Dad in Tacoma for the last several years, because of the volatility of Deb’s home. Emily (14) is struggling the most as she was the closest with Debbie and had lived with her sporadically over the years. Brandon (17) is a senior in HS and has had limited time with Deb and Carlos; he’s doing well but is holding in a lot of anger. Olivia (11) is a very sweet and caring girl and has had a more limited exposure to this household. She’s just going with the flow and hanging in there.

Late yesterday afternoon, Michelle and I were awarded temporary custody of Vince (5 yrs almost 6) and Isabella (4 yrs). They don’t know that Debbie died yet; we’ve decided to give them a day or so to get comfortable with us and then will break the news. Isabella witnessed the stabbing and told the foster family that “daddy stabbed mommy”. She also told me last night that “daddy is in jail; he told me he’s going to be in jail forever and isn’t coming back”. Wow. Vince was also around the scene, didn’t see the actual stabbing, but saw Debbie lying on the ground outside after it happened. Such a horrific scene. Even with all of this, they warmed up to us immediately and are making plans to travel to Minnesota. They both cuddled right up with us in bed—laughing, and wanting their backs, arms, legs, and stomachs scratched. I guess our bed time routine will be extended a bit!

They are still under the oversight of the Washington State Department of Social and Health Services (Child Protection Services), that initially placed then in a foster home Saturday morning. Once we passed all of the background checks and screening processes, they gave us temporary custody. We are working to hire an attorney today to help us with the process of securing Permanent Legal Custody, which hopefully will happened in the next three to four days. We need the permanent custody before taking them home. At this point, we are being told that we should get permanent custody.

We are busy dealing with a house full of stuff. No one will be coming home, so we need to get it empty and cleaned up (thank God, there isn’t any evidence of the tragedy). We took the older kids over there yesterday, so they can get their belongings out. Everyone is struggling with being at the house. It’s so tough to see her home and belongings without her there. Debbie was obviously trying very hard to make changes in her life. So sad she was paralyzed by her addictions and didn’t get there.

The family is gathering together: Del and Kathy traveled with us Saturday; Aimee (Michelle’s sister) also flew in on Saturday; Sid came out yesterday (he really wanted to be here); Steve (Michelle’s brother) arrived yesterday afternoon from Georgia; and Tyler (Aimee’s significant dude) is landing this morning. It’s been great to have everyone together. The funeral is hopefully on Wednesday. Del, Kathy, and Aimee are working to make the arrangements this morning while Michelle and I are working on the custody issues.

My amazing wife is struggling at times, but overall is so strong and keeping the family together. I watched her last night take these kids into her arms last night with unconditional love; it was an amazing sight. Even though the kids will struggle, together we will be strong.

I appreciate your prayers, love, and tears. We’re going to be fine and are excited to give Vince and Isabelle a safe and loving home. Feel free to send this update out to anyone you who may be interested.

Lastly, we do appreciate all of your emails and notes. Although Michelle and I may not have time to respond to them right now, we are receiving and reading them all.

Love you tons,
Jon & Michelle