In Memory of My Daughter: Part 1--Losing Kathy

Kathy and Jasmyne

I had a really difficult time forgiving myself for neglecting my son Karl and my daughter Kathy. Even as I write this I feel a lot of guilt. However, since recognizing what I did to them I have apologized and made what they call in 12-step programs a “living amends.” This means doing now what you would have done then if you could go back in time. With my daughter Kathy this process took on new meaning when she decided to have children, and little did I know when she got pregnant that I would soon have an opportunity to make a significant amends to her and begin to forgive myself.

In 1994, Kathy got pregnant. I was ecstatic. I wanted very much to be a grandmother and have a second chance at parenting. I knew Kathy and her husband Monty would make good parents and that the cycle of dysfunction would be broken by them.

Early in June, three months before she was due, Kathy went into labor and did not even know it. She thought she was having a backache. By the time Monty rushed her to the hospital the baby’s little foot had started to come out. The doctor said that if the delivery could be delayed just too weeks the baby would have a chance. We prayed. We begged God. Monty even dreamed the baby would wait. On June 16, 1994, at 11:04 <m>p.m.<m>, Jasmyne Marie Snyder was born. She weighed one and one-half pounds. Monty was too nervous to be in the operating room (Kathy had a cesarian) so I was there when little Jasmyne came out. She was perfect.

We watched over Jasmyne for fourteen days while she struggled to hang on. During this time, my heart ached for my daughter. The pain was as sharp as a knife. I had to ask God, “Why are you doing this? Kathy does not deserve this. Punish me. I am the one who failed at parenting. Give Kathy a chance to be a mother.” The waiting made me sick. Jasmyne sucked in the air of her ventilator. Her little swollen hand reached out to me. When she grabbed my hand it was as if she was pulling out a plug and tears came rushing out of me.

Jasmyne passed away on June 29, 1994. They took her off the ventilator and we all rushed down to the hospital chapel. Kathy couldn’t bear to be there and asked me if I would stand in for her. I was afraid, but I had to do this for my daughter. The doctor, pastor, nurse, Monty, and I all sat side-by-side. We each held her in turn. A moment after she was placed in my arms she stopped breathing. I was the last one to be with her on this earth. Later, Kathy told me how grateful she was. It was at that moment that I felt I had finally made my amends to her and for the first time I could really begin to forgive myself.

At Jasmyne’s funeral I felt moved to read a poem I had written years earlier.

A Brighter Tomorrow

Life may take a downward spiral
And overwhelm us for awhile.

Pain may seem a way of life;
Endless moments filled with strife.

Gloom may settle in our soul,
Splitting that which once was whole.

And yet despite this painful rift,
There still exists a timeless gift.

The saving grace when all is gray,
God's promise of a brand new day.

For some reason I emphasized the phrase “God’s Promise.” Three months later, Monty announced that Kathy was pregnant again. “We were supposed to wait a year, he said,” but it just happened. If it is a girl we are going to name her Isabelle. “Why Isabelle?” I asked. “I don’t know,” he said, “It just came to me.”

I immediately called the library (this was before the Internet) and asked the research librarian what Isabelle meant. She looked it up and said, “It means God’s oath.” “What does that mean?” I asked. “You know,” she said, “God’s promise.”

Today, Isabelle is a lovely child, full of promise and full of beans — just like her grandmother. What have I learned? God is amazing and he never forsakes us — something to live for


I was thrilled to find out I was carrying Kathy. I had always wanted to be a mother. She was due in February, but decided to appear on January 12, 2009. The best I could tell, she was conceived during the “Summer of Love” in the Haight Asbury district of San Francisco.

My little hippie baby was eight pounds and 21 inches. All I remember about her labor was my mom telling me “I know I lied about this being a wonderful experience, but if I told the truth you would never have kids.”

Kathy was a fussy baby but so beautiful that people literally stopped me in the street to tell me so.

As a little girl Kathy clung to me and her grandmother (Nana) but by the time she was in school she was the most popular child in her class.

For much of her schooling Kathy went to Golden Gate Academy, but in the eleventh grade she transferred to El Cerrito High School from where she graduated in 1987.

I sent Kathy to community college but in the middle of her second year she announced she had “met someone.” But she never stopped going to college. For years and years she took one class at a time working toward her credential to be a probation office.

Kathy and Monty had a beautiful wedding. Everyone at the Berkeley Seventh Day Adventist Church pitched in. I made her gown and Nana baked the most beautiful cake I have ever soon.

Monty and Kathy lived in San Leandro for awhile and then Dublin. They finally settled in Concord. I give Monty credit for this. Kathy was a spender and he was the one who saved enough to buy a house.

Kathy got pregnant on schedule and we were thrilled. As most of you know, however, we lost little Jasmnye Marie Snyder.

Soon after (sooner than expected or advised by the doctor) Isabelle came into the world. Kathy had to spend 5 weeks in the hospital to ensure her safe arrival. I still remember Monty walking out of the delivery room holding her in his arms.

It took awhile to get Hailey into the family, but eventually she arrived looking just like her dad (except that she had hair).

Kathy was a wife and mother. Yes she would have made a good probation officer, but her calling was her family. She did not get her expertise from me. It was truly a gift from God. Everyone who has ever met her can attest to that.

There is a hole in many hearts now that we will all have to fill with our love for Monty and the girls. [/color]

center]Sympathy, empathy, compassion . . . all these wonderful gifts from God are seeing me through.

Empathy is considered a sign of emotional intelligence. When Isabelle was three years old she saw her father crying. She got this serene look on her face, walked over to him, and patted him on his shoulder. "It's going to be ok Daddy." she said. I was floored.[/center]