Dear friends, what Ivonne and her husband have been through and how they are coping with it is beyond compare. Ten years ago, their wonderful daughter Line died at the age of only 14, but they remain boundlessly connected. In the days before her completely sudden death, she had been very happy, in love. Her mum Ivonne can still see her standing in the hallway in the evening, cuddled up to him, smiling blissfully. They talked, said „good night“ and exchanged one last warm glance. „Everything was as usual, and yet it wasn’t,“ says her mum.
The next day, Ivonne went into her room and saw Line, her angel, her everything. It was a Sunday, just like the day she was born, a Sunday and now also the day she died. It was the first night her boyfriend was allowed to stay over; she had used some persuasion. She died from a mixture of fentanyl and ecstasy. Her parents will probably never know what really happened that evening and that night.
Ivonne writes to her daughter Line: „You loved, trusted, wanted to feel life with all your senses. I was privileged to be your earthly mother for 14 wonderful years. Our connection is boundless. You are much more than your body. I will love you forever and ever. Soul love. Deep and deeper, infinitely. I am full of gratitude for your being and the path you walk with us, the vastness we experience through you and the boundaries that dissolve. Until eternity.“
How did their lives continue? Ivonne tells us today in the most touching words.
Dear Ivonne, you and your husband lost your only child at the time, your wonderful daughter Line, when she was only 14 years old. How long ago was that and how are you doing now?
This June marks 10 years since our Line passed away. It’s unbelievable how quickly time flies. It still feels so recent, and yet life without her here on earth seems like an eternity. We are doing well, but in a different way than before. A kind of well-being that knows pain and takes nothing for granted. A kind of well-being that feels moments of happiness intensely. A conscious YES to life with our two girls. Line was an absolutely positive person, at least that’s how she appears in the many photos that exist. She also looks very mature for her age in the pictures. Was she already really hitting the town in her last months?
Line was very loving, open and positive. She simply glowed and shone. Like a magnet that attracts people with her energy. She always wanted everyone to be happy, and being around her felt easy. She often visited us with her friends, and our house was always filled with laughter and music. She also explored our small town with her friends.
She was profound, courageous and clever, and we were impressed by how she saw the world through her eyes. She questioned many things and disliked injustice and narrow-mindedness. She always wanted to be extraordinary, and I once told her that she already was, just by walking into a room.
„The eyes are useless when the mind is blind.“ That was her last status update, and it says so much about her.
What kind of relationship did you two have?
We had and still have a very close bond. I knew how she felt, whether she was happy or sad. It was as if I could feel what she was feeling. Like we were ONE. She confided in me a lot and she is still so close to me. I admire her and am proud to be her mummy.
Then, at some point, Line fell in love. The morning after her boyfriend was allowed to stay over for the first time, she was no longer alive. How do you remember that day?
I can still hear her saying „Good night, Mummy“ the night before. Everything was as usual… When I went into her room in the morning, I saw immediately that she had died. And yet it was so unreal. Inconceivable.
I called my husband and he tried to revive her. I screamed and he was incredible, trying everything and refusing to give up, even when the emergency doctor arrived. There were so many strangers in our house, but I didn’t notice them. It was as if I had fallen out of the world. I was there, and yet I wasn’t, as if frozen.
We then had just a brief moment alone with her, and I can still see myself sitting next to her on the floor in her room, combing her beautiful blonde hair. I couldn’t feel anything; everything inside me was cold and empty.
Even when the coffin was carried out of the narrow wooden staircase and we watched hand in hand as the black car from the undertaker drove away. We knew it was our girl, and yet it felt like a film, not real.
Did you receive any help from emergency counselling or similar services?
No. There were so many people here that morning, the emergency doctor, the police, the ambulance service. Someone from the crisis intervention team was there too. We couldn’t talk to him, we were frozen. He seemed helpless in this situation himself and just kept saying how much love he could feel here. I only realised that afterwards. How valuable his feelings were and that they weren’t needed at all in that moment.
What I find particularly impressive about your story is that you and your husband immediately supported each other – and continue to do so to this day… you feel boundlessly connected.
It is such a precious gift to have someone who feels, suffers and loves as you do. Who despairs and feels deep sadness with you. We are soul mates, connected for eternity. From the very first moment, we have supported each other. It was a deep understanding without words. Like something from another world.
And when one of us was in a deep hole, the other was there to be strong. Enduring and carrying something so overwhelming together is like a light in the darkness. It brought us even closer together.
For tactical reasons, the police were not allowed to tell you the cause of death, so you found out how your daughter died from the radio.
In addition to this unimaginable pain, it was extremely stressful not knowing what had really happened. We had so many questions and no answers. All we wanted to know was how our child had died and whether she had suffered. As parents, you almost go crazy with worry. Hearing about it on the radio was absolutely devastating. There was so much coming at us from outside. We couldn’t find any peace. But that too is part of our journey and our grief.
You talk very openly about what happened, saying things like, „It’s always like a wave washing over us. People keep blaming you for allowing her to stay overnight. Yet you heard your happy girl laughing in the hallway that evening…“
Are those my words? That describes it well. A wave that overwhelms us right at the beginning and brings everything back up from the depths. We questioned everything, including ourselves.
We allowed her to stay overnight, and it took some persuasion on our daughter’s part. It was our joint decision, partly because she was here with us, in our home. She didn’t die because she stayed overnight.
You become vulnerable when you show yourself in public. Vulnerable. And we really experienced all kinds of malicious judgements. We couldn’t understand how people could be so cold and lacking in empathy and deliberately want to hurt others.
Now we just let it flow and grow from it. At some point, we also realised that it says nothing about us, but always about the person who says it.
There was also a lot of positive encouragement, people who understand and empathise. That also strengthened us. To accept what cannot be changed. Because the effect it has is much more profound. It shows us our path and that life can be worth living again even after such a great loss, albeit in a different way. Love is stronger than anything! Today you say that mourning Line has helped you grow. In what way?
Her passing has awakened us. It has expanded our consciousness and shown us that there is so much more around us. We have become more mindful, more sensitive, and also more vulnerable. We now think, feel, and love much more deeply and intensely. We perceive the nuances and wonders around us.
Trivialities dissolve. She showed us what is really important and also to pay attention to ourselves and our needs. We follow our path in a way that feels right for us and not in a way that is expected of us.
We are no longer afraid of death. Because we know that it is not the end. This allows us to live more freely. Genuinely and completely, without any ifs or buts. Our love has changed form; it is no longer physical, but a boundless connection.
Grief is now a part of us, no longer as paralysing pain, but as a deep form of love. When you are broken, you grow back together in a different way. With a quiet sadness that always resonates and scars that remain and through which the light shines.
I was deeply impressed by the beautiful phrase that you as a family „continue to live happily in a different way“. How do you do that?
Life has somehow expanded. We try to live in the present and make our lives as beautiful as possible. We consciously enjoy the moments together with our little daughter, feeling life. We walk by the sea, romp around on playgrounds, discover new places and marvel at the nature that surrounds us. Every little moment is so precious. We are so grateful to be rediscovering the world with our little daughter. She is the most beautiful miracle in the world for us. The time we have together is so valuable, nothing can be taken for granted anymore. It is love that has grown out of pain. What are your hopes for the coming months and years? To live freely and spend lots of time with my family. To watch our little one grow and blossom more and more. Basically, just as things are now. I’m looking forward to what’s to come. It’s so unimaginable that I can feel this way again after the death of our daughter. It’s been a long and difficult journey, and it remains a lifelong task, because she is always and everywhere missed. But it has made us who we are.
Is there anything else you would like to share with us mothers of teenagers?
I don’t know if I’m in a position to do so… because my daughter died. But she was happy until her last breath. I think it’s important to trust them, to give them space to develop. Ask them more about how they see the world, whether they are happy, what is important to them, what they want. Tell them how wonderful they are, just as they are, and that the world is waiting for them. Enjoy every moment of connection, because it is the most precious thing we have.
