Her name was Queen, a young woman of only 17 years, who has sadly passed on. She died of a drug overdose, I’m told – she was in prison, although I never learned why. It didn’t matter, I just wanted to help her. She was invited to participate in The Hummingbird Project, an art exhibit featuring several local artists, united in our desire to create space for those who suffer from trauma, give them a voice through art. Queen expressed her desire to be part of this project even though she was in jail and would be there during the time the show will exhibit. The woman who was our link, allowing this to happen, disappeared from the project though, which meant Queen would no longer have a place either. I simply lost touch, something I had to let go of. But as John Lennon said, “life is what happens while we’re busy making other plans”.
Queen was just a young girl when we met, we were neighbours before I went to Ecuador. She sort of forced her way into my life, often coming over for sporadic, very energetic visits, I think mostly because she loved Mali, my dog. She didn’t understand boundaries and would often just walk into my house whether I was inside it or not, look through the cupboards asking about everything. One day while I was at work, she took my fairy lights because she really liked them, her grandmother, who she lived with, brought them back for me. Her father, by his own admission, would sit at their kitchen window and watch me as I crossed the school field. Had he not told me, I would not have known – it was a strange admission, one which his girlfriend at the time confirmed. One morning I surprised him, or rather Mali did. He had brought the chair from my small deck onto the neighbours lawn, placing it in line with the porch window so he would see me when I came out of the house. Mali saw him first and did her job, barking at him furiously for scaring her. He was gone before I had a chance to ask him what he was doing.
This family simply became part of my life, without any efforts from me. Queen and her father both seeming to have a need to know me. Therefore Queen became someone I cared about – once you come into my life, no matter whether you stay, no matter the reasons you may leave, you remain in my heart, someone I care about – always. Everyone on my journey has a place and a reason for being there.
I really wanted to help her by giving her the opportunity to display her art, get some recognition for her talent, knowing how much having this outlet helped me find myself. We just weren’t there in time to give her that chance to see another way. What worries me this morning is thinking she died possibly believing her life didn’t matter, that she didn’t matter. How many times on my journey have I felt that way, wanted my life to end because of how heavy the weight of feeling invisible, unheard, was.
I never got to even see her art, know what she was capable of, but wish I had. Even though I understand it was her choices, her path, my heart still cries for what happened to her. She will always be that little girl who chattered endlessly, ricocheted from one place to another making me feel dizzy trying to keep up with her. We cannot see the future to know how to prevent tragedy, and really it is not our place to take away the lessons another must learn from. But how nice it would have been to see her find her way to the other side of this problem and flourish.
May you now find peace, come back in a new life and redirect your pain to feel the love and possibilities which are endless!
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