Tragedy Does Not End the Day it Plants Itself At Our Feet
By Doug Forbes
I’ve been thinking a lot about how we treat each other in the wake of tragedy.
Over the past year, children’s camp lobbyists have called Elena and me “deplorable” and “disrespectful” for denying their invitations to do what favors their clients. Elena has been victimized by overt misogyny, which we will expose in due time.
Some fellow advocates have accused us of unfairly vying for children’s health and safety initiatives by deploying our daughter’s name or because we have somehow not yet earned our right to do so or because Roxie has not been dead long enough.
Government insiders have chastised us for our pure passion to protect children instead of preserving the quid pro quo status quo. Most of those same insiders have made and continue to make empty pledges which ultimately further endanger our most vulnerable citizens.
Neighbors who know our plight clam up or practice avoidance behavior.
And of course, the recreational child care facility (they call it “camp”) where our daughter drowned has denied culpability. However, public documents illustrate how a number of parties admitted, under oath, to certifying counselors as American Red Cross lifeguards without anywhere near the requisite training or any testing. And of course, there are so many more unimaginable, yet-to-be-revealed details of this story which have added to our relentless grief.
We have been deeply affected by the fact that not one counselor employed at that facility when Roxie died — including two who live mere blocks from us — has proactively offered condolences or comfort of any kind. And while some of them have had to reveal shocking truths under sworn testimony, finally hearing such truths is anything but comforting.
Again, all and more of this is public information that one can read for oneself.
For the time being, however, we will be rather limited in our commentary on this matter. In a relatively short amount of time, documents and details and truths and facts will be set free for all to see as the legal process winds down. The wholly unavoidable, irrefutable reality will finally have wings. And the chips will fall where they may.
We ask that those who continue to inquire about the goings-on be patient. And for those who want to contact us with any information, as others have done, we are always here to listen about what you might know.
Tragedy does not end the day that it plants itself at our feet. In fact, tragedy grows from there. It morphs into physical illness, mental illness, insurmountable peaks and valleys, mistrust of nearly everything that abounds.
Except for one thing… children.
In the wake of tragedy, children remain children. I look at them climbing into cars, climbing onto park swings, humming to themselves, forging fantasies behind their eyes, exploding into this world the way all of us did. And it is beautiful… magical... devastatingly hard to consume knowing that I will no longer enjoy that as a daddy.
I am so tired from crying. I will never again watch my girl explode into this world as she was, moment after moment, right there in front of me, like the most beautiful movie one could ever make.
The owners and former assistant director and counselors of the facility that erased Roxie from our lives have made it clear that we and Roxie are an inconvenience, despite the fact that many of them have children or were children not so long ago.
Every day, I ask myself how this can be. I know that, were it me to have done what they have done, I would have spent the remainder of my life living a teachable moment the way it should be lived… with accountability, with dignity, with honesty, with remorse, with service, with boundless regret.
That is the way we should treat each other in the wake of tragedy that we ourselves cause, especially that which is wholly preventable.
On the contrary, friends and family and select strangers have come forward to hold our hands, stand us upright, comfort us quietly or vividly, do what they can, even if they cannot fully express what it is they wish to do.
Our mission is to make sure that children live so that they can express themselves for decades to come. Therefore, when lobbyists, government folks, even fellow advocates and neighbors either judge us on a guess or ignore us with aplomb, we know that as long as we remember our mission, we can keep breathing, keep moving, keep trying.
Because of all this, Meow Meow Foundation is also now working on ideas to provide a holistic support program for families and communities impacted by drowning. Contrary to widely held beliefs, grief does not diminish or disappear, especially when a beloved young life is suddenly and violently ended. People should further understand how to engage those who are grieving. And those who are grieving should further understand how to engage the world about them.
Those responsible for Roxie’s death might not yet understand the weight of living with oneself while knowing what happened and why. But there is far less freedom in choosing to ignore the truth than there is in embracing it. Fancy houses and nice cars and expensive schools and money and power and well-heeled connections and parties and social media frenzies might be fine for some or even many, but they’re just things after all.
When they throw the dirt on our inert bodies or fire our vessels into ashes, we don’t take such things with us. It’s the truth and the merit we leave behind that matters most. The depth and breadth of our bank account balances and Instagram followers are far afield from the wonder and purity we once had as we too exploded into this world.
None of life’s things compare to watching your daughter attempt ballet or blow bubbles or speak Spanish or want to curl up in your lap and pull your arm around her. That’s truth. That’s power. That’s love. And that’s gone from my household, my life, my wife’s life, from this world that was better with my baby in it.
I have learned just how short life really is. Roxie’s life was six years, which is actually six minutes or six seconds in the grand scheme. But what I know is that, man, did she do great while she was here.
It is now my greatest challenge to see how her life has been dishonored by those who took it, by those who did not bother to understand it or by those who find it easier to disregard it, all of which do their level best to nurture my already immense grief.
All I can do is try my best to plant different seeds for change, to remember Roxie exploding into and through my world and to follow the mission at hand because of her.
As always, I love you sweet girl.