More Than Kids

Mothers of an Angel - Stacie Pike

Have you ever watched those television crime shows that are "ripped from the headlines?" Aren't they great? Voice over with a low familiar voice. Thrilling introductory scene.

Action. Violence. Bodies. Blood. Commercial... Ripped from the headlines. Families ripped apart.

Just like real life... except for the REAL part.

 
Mothers of an Angel 8 Stacie - Images by bryan farley

Perhaps these shows are the present day fairy tale. Television episodes that create law and order from real life and make the unacceptable tolerable. CSI investigates the Grimm's Fairy Tales. Bones researches The Pied Piper (Beware! He was not the good person you thought!) 

I remember watching one of those crime shows the first time my wife and I knew she was pregnant;  something horrible happened to a character's child. My wife and I both almost cried; maybe we did. We were surprised that we watched the show differently. We cared. We started listening to the news differently too. We lost a form of escapist entertainment.

But our experience will never be the same as that of Stacie Pike and the Pike family. For this family, their Little Red Riding Hood did not survive. In the real world, between the commercials and after the film credits, wolves lurk with their sharp teeth.

So, why can't the Pike family just take a joke when someone tries to say something funny about murder? Why don't they just move on? Why don't they just smile?

Surprisingly, the family is much closer than other families I have photographed who have never lost a family member. But something ripped the Pikes apart. They will never be the same. And yet, the family is writing a new story. A new Fairy Tale with photos and tattoos. The Pike family remembers Krista Rae Pike... dead at 18.

I find it interesting that our society jokes about death. I am not sure why we do it. Often, it happens without our knowledge. I do it. Everyone might do it. People think they are being clever when they say someone "drank the Kool Aid." I guess I am old enough to remember Jim Jones and the awful murder/suicide. I do not find it funny. I find the comment tragic.

After my father died, I noticed that television shows used suicide as plot devices. I tried watching comedy, but many comedians think suicide is funny too. (If you think you have a good suicide joke, please do not send it to me. It probably is not funny.)  So, I started listening to sports radio. I love sports, but for some reason, even sports talk show hosts think suicide is funny. "Wow, if my team makes that trade, I am going to shoot myself." Hilarious. There was no escape.

After six years, I feel much better about all the references, but I know that some people are not as far along the trail. I wonder how the Pike family will recover. I wonder why there are not more Fairy Tales about them and The Mother of An Angel Friendship Network.

There is probably no escape for the Pike family. Stacie's daughter was brutally murdered at 18. Court proceedings continued since January 2008. The family fractured, and yet the family seemed closer than some families I have photographed.

Mothers of an Angel - Susan Andersen

This is the second year that I photographed Susan and her grandson.

I am always surprised that Susan is a grandmother, because I consider Susan my own age and her grandson is older than my children. Susan often mentions that she is too old for... something. She says she is too old for a tattoo or too old to go on the swings, but then she swings next to her grandson.  She still has not gotten a tattoo. She is one of the few mothers without a tattoo. I think that when Susan says she is too old for something she is actually saying something else.

I think she is saying, "his father should be doing these things with us." His father should be going down the slide and sitting on the swing and looking at the homework assignments. Susan says she felt too old to have a tattoo, but I do not think she felt too old to be a grandmother.  She wanted her son to experience the joy she felt as a parent. She wanted to grow old watching her son raise his child. She wanted to watch her son be a good husband to his wife Jennifer. Susan is too old to have a grandson without a father.

 

Mothers of an Angel 7 Susan - Images by bryan farley

For this photo shoot, we met at Webster Elementary School in Madera, California during the first week of school. Susan's grandson attends the same school where Brannon attended. Susan would have enjoyed sharing stories with both boys. During the shoot, Susan probably recalled how her son learned how to write his name in cursive and multiply two digit numbers or climb trees. She probably watched her daughter-in-law and hoping that Jennifer will enjoy Motherhood as much as Susan did.

As for Susan's grandson... I wonder how he will he remember these photoshoots? Nothing can change his loss, but often children are ignored when children lose parents. Susan's grandson will know that a community supports him.  He will know that his father was honored.

And he can honor his father.

 

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Mothers of an Angel - Susan

This is the fifth in the series.

However, it was the first set of photos that I viewed after returning home. I took these photos of Susan Amaya at her North Fresno home on August 16th, the anniversary of my father's death. Martha Tessmer, the founder and leader of the Mothers of an Angel network drove me to Susan's house and we talked about our day and Teen Impact Driving.

Before we walked into the house, we talked about Susan. In the house, Susan asked what most mothers ask. She asked how this photo experiment works. I am still not really sure. I think I am creating the rules for it.

The mothers allow me into their space. We talk. We share experiences. In this case, Susan and Martha talked about their children and how they spend time together. You can see some of the discussions in the photos.

Mothers of an Angel Susuan Pt1 - Images by bryan farley

Susan also joined us after lunch at the Clovis Cemetery. I included a slideshow from after lunch too.

I also realized that I needed a few rules. Usually, when I create slideshows, I change the order of the photos to tell a better story. I felt that changing the order of photos would not help improve the story telling but interfere with the impact.

Many photos are very similar, so I might omit them. Or, someone blinks. Or, I focus on a back wall instead of the person. But I noticed something that often repeats during these photo shoots. People smile. People cry. In some photos, people are doing both. This emotional interchange occurs rapidly. I wanted to show how these emotions are normal in the Mothers of an Angel group.

Celebration and Pain. These emotions co-exist. And I suspect this is difficult for many to see, because many of us are uncomfortable with all of it. We are uncomfortable with pain. We are uncomfortable with people who change emotional states suddenly. Change is uncomfortable. Sudden change is even more uncomfortable.

But we are also uncomfortable with people who celebrate life. I wonder if this is the biggest challenge that the Mothers of an Angel group presents. How many of us really celebrate the lives we have?

 

Mothers of An Angel Second Year

A week ago, I left Fresno emotionally and physically exhausted... and forever grateful to have spent two days in the company of pilgrims.

For those of us who are parents, we know the special bond we experience with other parents. Without talking to each other, we might share a simple nod in a coffee shop or grocery store. While our children play at a park, we might begin talking about our lack of sleep, missing shoes and our children's diaper rash. When our children are older, we might share stories about how teenagers are so much more trouble now... or so much easier. As parents, we know what it means to listen to all the whining (often our own), because we have not slept for blah, blah, blah years.

As parents, we also share the fear of the unspeakable.

mothers of an angel 2010 - Images by bryan farley

Last week, I spent two days with families who share more than the common bond of parenthood. The mothers (and other relatives) I visited share the bond of parenthood and the bond of the unspeakable.

Yet, they speak to each other; they listen to each other. They share with each other, and they do so, because they know some things are not easy to share. Many of these mothers have learned that some people do not want to share their pain, no matter how much our own parents taught us about the importance of sharing.

Before my father committed suicide, I would not have wanted people to share these stories with me. I know their isolation. Almost. I understand what it means to put pieces back together and find a new voice in a society that wants some things to remain silent or unspeakable. I know the difficulty of finding one's voice when others want you to remain silent.

For the Mothers of Angels, their stories of healing and recovery must be a paradox. Many of these mothers had their personal lives torn apart by the media. The details of their children's deaths were told and retold. These parents and families were public figures during everyone's worst nightmare. Now during their recovery, when they could teach us how to deal with loss as a community, we often do not want to hear their story.

I understand. There is a reason denial is popular. But take a peak, in case you need these people some day. They do not want you to join their group, unless you need them. They also do not want you to understand their pain, because they know your fear. They were afraid too, but they got the call. They answered the door. They were the people on the news... those people that when you heard about them you said, "Thank God, that was not my family."

They are the people you might still be asking yourself, "How do you ever recover from that?"

Somehow, my photographs help. Telling their stories help them. So I keep doing it, and I will continue to do it. I will post individual stories for the next week.  My FB friends will only receive this one and the concluding post. To respect those who are not quite ready for this post, I have kept the photos less emotional. I am sorry for their jarring impact. I know that many of us go to FB for fun. And this is not a lot of fun.

Share with anyone who can use the information please.

Launch and share the Mothers of an Angel Photo Gallery

 

Mothers of an Angel Return

Tomorrow I am returning to Fresno and Woodward Park again. The last trip reminded me of my youth and future. It felt like an old Lowenbrau commercial. 

This sentimental journey honors that which is missing. The trip hopes to heal and recover profound loss, and show how people form community around an issue that is usually hidden... an issue that is often made invisible, because of its power to disrupt our happiness just by a whisper.  I am returning to Fresno to meet a group of women and their families who are coping with the loss of a child.

I think of this group as my group now, but it is not really. I am an associate member. I know profound loss, but not their loss. On Monday, while I am with them for the second day of this trip, I will be remembering my father who committed suicide six years ago on August 16th. Even in those first days, I remember thinking, "This is by far the worst thing that has ever happened to me, but now that I have a six month old child, I know it is not the worst thing that could happen." Having a child helped push me forward. So, how do parents recover? Do they?

The photos from last year's visit might illuminate how parents can create communities in the darkest of moments... how we must create communities in those moments. And how those of us who have not lost children should know these crusaders exist in case we ever need their support.

 

 

Launch Mothers of an Angel Return - Images by bryan farley

A special note... I am also aware that a dear friend has a birthday today. I used to call her my "mom away from mom." She lost one of her children several years ago, and I know that she is thinking of her daughter today... because she thinks of her two children every day. She is not one of the Mothers of Angels, but I think about her and another mother down the street from her whenver I am with the mothers in the Central Valley.

Love,

Bryan