I received a sad email from a reader who said her son Terry passed away in March 2010, a few days shy of his 28th birthday.
Linda Richardson described losing a child as "one of the most painful experiences a parent can endure." (As the mother of a 28-year-old son, I can't even begin to imagine that kind of grief.)
Richardson, her husband David and their daughter Lisa wanted to honour his memory and purchased a memorial park bench from the park board/city. They found "the most perfect spot" for its installation.
"Kits Point, where the dog park and marina sit out on the peninsula. Perfect to sit and reflect," wrote Richardson.
This past Remembrance Day, Richardson and her daughter brought plants and soil to the bench, along with a ceramic planter, to make her son's bench distinct and special. She said the hope was the planter would allow them to mark the bench with seasonal plants for not just the family to enjoy, but also for everyone who walks by or sits to take in the view.
So Richardson was disappointed and heart broken Nov. 25 to discover the planter had been stolen. "What kind of person does this?" she wrote. "Someone who does not have a heart or soul. Someone who does not understand life, is selfish and [has] no personal morals."
I could tell by reading Richardson's email she was upset when she wrote it and her pain was obvious. It read like a letter written by an anguished mother typing at a keyboard in anger or tears, so I called her to check. As it turns out, it was a little of both.
"I was venting," she said, now able to laugh at her rage. "When I came back from his bench I was so angry I felt like screaming and I thought who can I vent to? Then I thought, the Courier."
Richardson described the planter as heavy, particularly once it was filled with dirt, so it would have taken effort to remove it. She believes it was stolen by someone who knew exactly what the planter was meant for. Someone she believes lacks the moral character to feel bad about stealing a memorial dedicated to a dead son.
Tending to the planter placed next to her son's bench was to be Richardson's way of caring for Terry now that he's gone. And that's been taken away.
I told Richardson about a story I wrote a couple of years ago about how numerous trees and plants were stolen from an East Side Buddhist centre. We both laughed at what we hoped were the karmic ramifications of stealing from Buddhists. I also told her about the time a couple of years ago I went to visit my mother's memorial bench in Chillwack and it was gone. When I contacted that city, a worker explained it had been sprayed with graffiti and had been brought in for repainting.
Richardson also contacted the city after the planter was stolen to ensure it hadn't been removed on purpose, but that wasn't the case. Richardson said the day she discovered the planter had been stolen, she was so hurt and angry she made a sign meant to shame the thieves and headed back to the bench.
"I felt like I'd been violated," she said. "This was my spot to sit and remember my son. My son who was taken away far too young."
But when Richardson got back to the bench, sign in hand, her anger instantly dissolved and she decided to take the high road.
"It wasn't fair to everyone else walking by to see that sign," she told me. "And I was lowering myself to their level and I decided I couldn't do that."
I don't know if I could take the high road if I was in Richardson's position, but I hope so. Meanwhile, someone is enjoying their new ceramic planter. I hope they are not a mother.
Twitter: @sthomas10
