Oh Dayna, how I miss you, how I miss you so very much! It has been a year that you've taken your life. How I wish you could have overcome your schizophrenia just enough to have been able to call and trust me to come to your aid; to enable you to have some glimmer of hope to help you. I wish you hadn't blocked your phone to my desperate calls to you. I look at your picture first thing when I wake up and just before I go to bed. I still cry quietly when alone with my thoughts of you. The pain in my heart is as strong as ever. I miss your wonderful hugs,  your calls to me on Mother's Day and my birthday. You took your life the day after my birthday or perhaps the evening of March 28, 2016. I don't forsee my having a happy birthday ever again. You are gone forever and I cry every time I realize that. It was a cruel occurance that you were born with this mental disease. With all that I tried, I couldn't protect you, I couldn't save you. I'm told you are "at peace." That doesn't help my anguish as a mother. You are gone forever. I can only hope your DNA is somewhat carried on in your sister's daughters and that they will have inherited all the good that was in you. I will always remember you, my sweet daughter.

She had talked about setting up a game herself, one where staff wouldn't step on the players like the one she left. It took a while, quite a while. I lost contact for a time in there and searched a bit hoping to reach folks. Took about 7 years, but it opened. It was an amazing place, and I had the pleasure of helping to run things, for a time. Sadly, some one less then honest tricked their way in to command and did a lot of damage. I had no idea how much as they managed to conceal it from me. Even today I am still discovering new things. She and Jason did the best they could and made a wonderful place for many people and I will always thank them for that, two in fact.

I put much of the blame for what happened there on my self. Had I been more alert or less willing to believe the best of others, perhaps I could have prevented at least that bit of stress. Or perhaps if I had been quicker to search after them to speak with my friends I could have helped some how. Likely not, she was always quite strong willed. But, I deeply regret not having gotten the chance to try. I expect Jason would rather nt see this here, as I am certain he is still upset by what people he trusted did to the game. But it was a part of her life, and she did touch many other lives and gave us a wonderful place where many people had a wonderful time, no matter what others did later.

I will never forget her, or our talks. I made sure of it, I log all my games. She is a good person, and will be missed. She touched many more  lives then will ever be known, and she did so in a positive way. My besst wishes to her, and to all of you who are still on this side. It's a harsh world, and we all do the best we can.

My favorite memory of her was when a client brought a dog into the class room much to my dismay. I allowed it but Dayna noticed and quickly jumped to her feet and asked 'Are dogs allowed in class??!!' 'No Dayna, they are not.' I said, after which I winked at her and said if she brought her dog just once I might not notice. At this she flashed me the most sparkling knowing vixen little smile. It was a peek into the happy Dayna, the playful Dayna, the Dayna who felt a moment of excitement at thinking she could smuggle her dog to the class. I'll never forget that moment. It was rare in her last months to see this side of her; I consider it the true Dayna.

For our grandparents' 50th anniversary, our whole family gathered in Nevada to celebrate. We spent several days eating well (and too much), enjoying the sights and sounds of the big city, and just enjoying each other's company. One day, my father decided that he wanted to take a drive to see the sights of the desert landscape. Several of us went with him, including Cousin Dayna. We kept driving and driving into the desert, but weren't really seeing anything (probably because it was the desert). After an hour and a half, the crowded drive was getting a bit contentious, especially because we hadn't seen many other cars or roadside stops for a while. Finally we saw one of those "Next Gas 60 Miles" signs, but our gas meter was getting down there. Everyone was very frustrated, so we pulled over and got out of the car to discuss what to do next. Shortly after we did, a huge rainbow appeared in the sky, and it was very beautiful. We all admired it and made the very rational decision to turn around and head back. The ride back was much better, and we all talked about the rainbow.

Gordon and I were lucky to have the opportunities to travel to several places because of his work associations and take Dayna with us. We went to Seattle, California and Virginia. Each time people seeing her would tell us how beautiful she was and remark what a happy baby she appeared to be. She acquired quite a bit of air travel miles before she was even 2 years old.

Eighteen months later, I gave birth to Jennifer, another cesarean section but this time things went more smoothly. We now were a happy foursome.

Gordon got the opportunity to work in California and although I wasn't too happy about it we relocated. We lived for 4 months in a rented apartment in Riverside but then bought a house in Anaheim Hills. Dayna had her special friend Angela, who she liked to play with. I spent several months building Dayna and Jennifer a beautiful playhouse, large enough to hold a child's table and two chairs. My neighbor's husband was in the construction business so I was able to get much of the needed wood and roof supplies to build it. It had a real wood floor, door, 4 windows with shutters, interior paneling and a real roof. I painted it red with white trim and a big rainbow on the exterior back wall and flowers on the front door. They played in it for many years as toddlers and later as a "fort." It contained two little pictures I hung on the interior wall and had the usual childrens dishes, pots, pans etc.

When Dayna was 3 years old, we noticed things were not quite right with her. Her behavior became a bit more difficult to deal with but we didn't think much of it. If we were ready to leave the park she would not want to comply and it didn't bother her when we said we were leaving and she had better follow us or she would be left behind. One time we actually got in the car and drove around the block without her with us right back to where we left her and you would think she would run after us in tears but it didn't faze her one bit. Then at age 5 she pulled out all of her eyelashes to my horror for no reason and continued to do so for the rest of her life. I took her to a doctor who wanted to give her benadryl medication to "calm her down" and I thought that was insane for a child and I dropped that idea fast.

I had her and her sister in all kinds of activities one could think of as they grew up, horseback riding lessons, day camp, sleep-over camp, softball, the yearly birthday parties at Chucky Cheese, slumber parties, swimming lessons,  hebrew school, regular school, roller skating, bike riding, etc. like other children. We took many family trips. We once attended a family reunion from my side of our family at the Concord Hotel in upstate New York where she saw all of her cousins. She got to attend one of our family Chanukah Parties  and had tons of fun with all of her cousins. We also took  trips to Las Vegas where there was an amazing water park, hotels and tons of sights to see which she and her sister really liked, ski and snow related trips to Mammouth Mountain and Big Bear, a trip to  Gold Rush Country with fishing, trips to Disneyland, Sea World, Knotts’ Berry Farm, Bates’ Nut Farm, apple picking up in Julian, and probably countless other things that just don’t immediately come to my mind.

Dayna did well in school up until the 8th grade. She was running straight  A's, was articulate, loved to read and was very artistic. She had some real talent for drawing and a good ear for music. I would play my piano for her and Jennifer and she would be able to repeat series of notes I would play from hearing them but she didn’t seem serious about taking lessons. She showed some serious talent in writing, especially poems.

She managed to complete her religious training, which was quite an accomplishment, given her health issues, celebrated her Bat Mitzhveh with friends and family and completed another Mile Stone in her life.

At school, Dayna was starting to have more and more problems. Her behavior was becoming more difficult in class, she was having trouble focusing and staying on tasks. She was taking longer and longer periods of time to complete tasks. I spent hours with her after school each day helping her with her homework and assignments. We were called in to speak to her teachers several times and even the principal once for getting into a fight in High School. She did manage to make the school's flag team and worked extremely hard at their routines, learning them incredibly fast. I would ask myself so many times, "if she can do things like this and was tested and rated so highly in her S.O.I tests, why was she having such a hard time at school?"

When Dayna hit puberty, her behavior got worse and her grades nose dived. We took her to therapy many times which was difficult enough getting her to even come. She started to hang around some friends I didn't approve of. Her behavior became more defensive and contrary. She would fly into a rage at times and often beat up on her sister, who would not hit her back and often would just go to her friend Leslie's house to escape Dayna's aggressive behavior. To my horror, I discovered that Dayna would actually cut herself on her arms and gave herself many scars. Her therapy continued on and off with little effect. One day, in an attempt to stop her from cutting herself, she came at me with a knife and punched me in the mouth. Luckily, I was still stronger than her and got out of the house, ran to my neighbor and called the police. Dayna was hospitalized at Mesa Vista where she was treated roughly, unbeknownst to us. Later when she was released, she was diagnosed with Scihzoaffective Disorder, (a thought disorder), Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder and Trichotillomania (eyelash pulling). She was prescribed different medications but in the beginning was not completely compliant. At this time she was 17 and 1/2.

She managed to finish High School after taking a final class during summer school at Poway High and was allowed to "walk the aisle" but didn't get her diploma until she finished the final course during the summer. Gordon and I did not attend her graduation because she didn't complete everything at that time, which in retrospect, I greatly regret. She managed to allow her eyelashes to grow back for her graduation pictures with incredible difficulty. Her pictures really captured her beauty.

Dayna would participate in "Live Action Role Playing" in Oceanside and Carlsbad as an escape from her torment. She made friends that seemed better than the ones she originally had. She was actually quite good in creating stories with these other "kids" and then act out the scenes. I would drive her and later, when she got her license, she would drive herself but would come home all hours of the night. Her sleeping habits became worse, her hygiene habits became worse.

She tried to get employment and was always successful at getting several but they all never lasted. She would have the same problems with focusing, staying on task, understanding the idea of a time frame and organizing. I thought I made a break through to her when she seemed to finally accept her disorder and try to live with it instead of fighting it. This was after multiple visits to therapists and doctors. I was finally able to get her disability status and with that, I hoped, would open doors to more avenues of help. Her poor experiences with the state’s medical services with MediCal just increased her mistrust of the doctors. The medications that she took had awful side affects and took long periods of time to view the results. They worked somewhat, but left her in a sort of “foggy state.”  Due to the “rules” of getting her the largest possible allowance from the state, she could not live at home so I had to liquidate all the monies I had saved for her over the years, which I had hoped would be applied to a college education for her and looked for a place she could live. We rented a room in several different places over a period of time making sure it was safe for her  but she had trouble taking care of herself overall. During this time, she met and made friends with Jason. They did very well together and became best friends. She was able to help him with some issues and he was able to connect with her. Eventually, they lived together in Escondido. I believe that  Jason was the best thing that ever happened to Dayna. I know Dayna loved and trusted Jason. He was the most incredible, nurturing, patient person I had ever come across. She had helped him get out of a bad situation he was living in while in Oceanside and he helped her better deal with her issues. They were together for many years, 14-16  but Dayna never wanted to get married. She didn’t want to lose what remaining feeling of independence and control over her life that she had left. Jason was offered a position at Google, so with great hopes and excitement, they relocated to Silicon Valley. They lived there for about 6 years. During that time, Dayna  became more and more isolated. She couldn’t adjust and had trouble making friends. Both of them became more isolated despite numerous calls, e-mails and texts from myself, Gordon, Jennifer and Dan (Jennifer’s husband, who Dayna actually introduced to Jennifer). The normal  stresses from work Jason had just added to the stresses he as well as Dayna was dealing with. Jason did more than anyone could have even imagined to help Dayna’s condition. He was able to get her on his health insurance through Google. Together they went through many different doctors. Dayna’s mistrust of doctors, given her past experiences with them, didn’t help her situation because she was never completely candid with them so they would be better able to help her. Jason even got her to a specialist at Stanford for her disease. She was being re-evaluated, so based on what she told her doctor she was only taken off her anti-psychotic drug but still on her other drugs for anxiety and depression. Over several months, Dayna’s thinking became clearer and she became more articulate and as Jason said, “sharper.”  Even though Dayna’s previous medications somewhat had helped her, one of the side effects was a terrible weight gain. Eventually, she hit 300 pounds.  With Jason’s help, he had gotten her on a medically supervised diet that helped her lose 100 pounds in less than a year. This was all out of pocket but Dayna’s quality of life for the last few years was worsening. It was hard for her to walk, her joints hurt from the excess weight and she was in a lot of pain, both mentally and physically. Her mental disease’s course, the stresses from it compiled with Jason’s stresses finally took its toll on their relationship. She no longer trusted anyone.  He decided to leave Google and return to San Diego along with Dayna. He tried to assure her he would help her get an apartment and totally support her until she could get reasonably back on her feet, medically and financially but in her mind, she distorted that.

I think I can understand what could have been what she was thinking. If she was taken off her medications, sure, she was clear again and sharp and intelligent but was psychotic and could not reality check. If she was medicated, she had to live in a fog for the rest of her life and deal with a weight problem, aches and constant pains, both mental as well as physical. Her disease distorted her thought processes. She believed Jason was abandoning her and she would have to deal with everything now alone.

She chose to just end her suffering. A part of me feels like it died with her. I am so distraught. So many people tried to help her. As her mother it is hard not to “beat myself up” telling myself  there must have been something more I could have done; I thought I did everything I could have done but nothing helped. It was a terrible, terrible disease. It is so sad and so horrifically unfair  that she went through so much. She was a good, kind, loving, nurturing person. She fought so hard and for so long with her illness. I think she just got tired of fighting.  I must remember her, not the disease. I will always love her.

Dayna bought a baby monitor lizard from a reptile store in Escondido and took it in as her baby. I couldn't seem to pick him up properly and he had no qualms letting me know I had done wrong by biting me consistently. It took me forever to learn but Dayna knew just the right things to do. She would slip him in her pocket and he'd hang out relaxed. She would take baths with him, letting him float over her chest in the warm water. She could tame (or subdue) just about any animal.

Dayna rarely kept a regular sleep schedule and would be up or asleep at all hours. There was a period where she got into a regular sleep cycle at night and a confused and lonely Rorschach would come and bug us at 4am, looking for attention from Mommy.

We figured he was lonely and could use a companion so we went to the Humane Society of Silicon Valley to get him a playmate. Walking around the Sunshine Room I pass by a cage and a black paw shoots out and grabs my shirt, making a clear signal that we had been chosen. So we adopted Sammy.

Now we had two cats bugging as at 4am.

I'm at my college classes and I get a call, "We need to talk when you get home." I assume she's going to break up with me or something. Certainly a conversation started that way is grave. I rush home in a panic, unsure of what unpleasant confrontation I'm walking into.

I come in the door and there's a tiny white and black mass of fluff and mewling. "I rescued him... can we keep him?" I was so relieved I had to accept the kitten.

She had found him under a rusty old van, covered in oil. She bathed him repeatedly and the black spots that remained looked like inkblots, like the Rorschach test. Eventually the oil-stained hairs were replaced by fresh white ones and the name became purely symbolic of his neuroses. He was afraid of string, terrified of the toilet flushing, and not the best at separating his poopy from his tiny body.

But he was her baby and always will be.

Jenny

There were actually a couple of close calls in the car where I didn't quite have the head-turning radius I needed with my face anchored by her thumb and forefingers. I instituted a new rule: no cheekies when I'm turning the steering wheel. I tried to exploit this later. We'd be sitting on the couch, she'd grab my cheekies and I'd shout "TURNING THE WHEEL! TURNING THE WHEEL!" but to no avail. I had to accept my fate. My face was her toy.