This is the date that Judy Garland died. She was 47 years old when she ended her life.
That was in 1969.
Something made her terribly sad. She couldn’t take this place any longer. So she opened up a bottle of barbiturates and stopped the pain.
I’ve heard a lot of people say things about her, like, “She was so talented.” “She had so much to live for.” And on. But I doubt those people even knew her. Oh, surely. She was amazing from the outside.
But Judy Garland was the only one who could see what it was like on the inside of Judy Garland.
Right now, in our country, the suicide rate is higher than it has ever been. Drug addiction is also at its highest. Obviously, a lot of people are feeling hopeless. They feel their lives are without cause or reason. It is too hard, or too much.
I’ve known a few people over the years who have committed suicide. One in particular stands out. A few weeks before her death, she had sat at our dining room table, laughing, eating dinner, conversing. When the news came to us, it was an utter surprise.
It most always is an utter surprise to those who are still here.
We can try to pay attention, and notice, but sometimes it isn’t enough. Sometimes, there are no signs.
Yet, I am reminded of all of this because of Judy Garland. And. We should try to do what we can, when we can. If nothing else, spread the word.
“…and then, I have nature and art and poetry, and if that is not enough, what is enough?”
― Vincent Willem van Gogh
― Jay Asher, Thirteen Reasons Why
“I’m the girl nobody knows until she commits suicide. Then suddenly everyone had a class with her.”
― Tom Leveen, Party