I haven't been able to think of much else today, except you. I keep coming back to the computer - checking the Winnipeg Free Press web site to see if there have been any developments and hoping that you've been found. I want you to be found, Lisa. You deserve that.
I don't know much about you except that you are 32 and were a momma to two. I imagine that Anna and Nicholas were two gifts you must have hoped for your whole life. I know you are a pharmacist at the Concordia Hospital who is on maternity leave, as Nicholas was born only three months ago. A pharmacist. That means you knew and understood the pharmacology that existed to help you overcome the dark dogs that were obviously lapping at your heels. All the knowledge in the world can't help you sometimes.
I know that.
I hope you know that many people know it too.
You had a husband and other family who were helping you. They must have tried so hard. It must have killed you to watch them try. In moments when the light found a way to sneak in, you must have looked over at your daughter, or your newborn son and everything in you must have wanted to extend your hand.
Only you couldn't.
I don't know what the darkness or the voices were telling you to do yesterday morning. It must have been so convincing and so terrifying. You must have felt like you had control for just a fleeting moment. You took that control - the feeling that must have been absent for so long - and you acted. I know you didn't understand what you were doing.
I know you loved your beautiful babies.
I am so sorry that the darkness that plagued you was bigger than anyone knew. I'm sorry there wasn't enough help or understanding. I'm sorry that you found yourself alone with your babies, even for that short while. You must have been so afraid.
I know you loved them.
I don't know where you are today. No one does. I hope that you were able to find a place to truly rest yesterday, even with those dark dogs chasing you. I hope your soul and your spirit found a way to rescue you from your tormentors. I hope you found peace. I hope you are at rest.
There is no blame found here, Lisa. Not at the end of these words that I write. I look at the pictures of you and those of your children and I know you must have loved them.
I am grieving for so much today. For your husband, for your babies, for all who knew and loved them. But mostly I am grieving for you. It wasn't you, Lisa. I hope you know that so many of us believe that.
You were educated, middle-class, supported, and surrounded, but still it wasn't enough.
It was too big for you.
I know you loved them.
Be at peace.
At the time of writing, Lisa Gibson is still missing.
Update - Lisa Gibson's body was recovered from the Red River on Saturday, July 27th.