The Studley Family Story

by Linda Sullivan

My family was very loving and there was a lot of laughter growing up. My parents would take my sister and I on great vacations. Weekends were spent at the different beaches and islands in Panama. My sister and I would go fishing with my dad or shopping with my mother. My parents often had parties for my sister and I when we were kids using any excuse. One party was because it was our dog's birthday. They invited all the kids in the neighborhood and even my dog had two doggie friends whom were also invited. I remember one Halloween they had a Halloween Party for us and the next morning there were two new bicycles in the family room where my parents said the Halloween Witch left them for us during the night.

My dad was a very strong willed person whom when confronted with obstacles would greet them as a challenge to be prevailed. If his goal were to stop smoking, he would quit, cold turkey. If he wanted to lose weight, he would exercise, eat right, without cheating, and lose the weight. He was the smartest person I have ever known. There is nothing he did not know, nothing he could not do and nothing he could not make. He was someone to look up to and he loved his family and we loved him. My mother was funny, always upbeat, and in a good mood. I saw her in a bad mood only once that I can remember. If ever I felt bad or needed advice I could always count on my mom for good sound advice and she could always make me feel better. She loved to cook and have dinner parties. My mother was well liked by her friends and anyone who met her. There was nothing not to like. She was my best friend.

Although my memories of my family are wonderful, it wasn't perfect. I think I should mention that my sister started using drugs from her mid-teens and has continued to this day. She is very self-centered and always had some problem that my mom, dad and I would worry about and would require one of us to give her money. Consequently, there were very stressful periods of times and visits from her could be less than joyful. My mother told me about 1 1/2 years before their deaths, when I first noticed that my dad was behaving odd and this was right after my sister had just left after a visit, that when ever my sister came to visit, my father would become very nervous and agitated.

To make a long story short, my dad started having terrible stomach pains late 1996 or early 1997. For almost 1 1/2 years he sought help for this pain, seeing a total of 19 doctors. As time went on, and no diagnosis was made, and my dad still suffering from pain, he became withdrawn and overly concerned and agitated with things. He slowly stopped all things that made him happy, like scuba diving, fishing, boating, kayaking, biking, seeing friends and listening to music. He would retire to bed very early and would spend a lot of time in his robe. This also took a great toll on my mother. She wouldn't go out with friends because she didn't want to leave my dad feeling so poorly by himself. She spent a lot of time fixing his favorite foods to get him to eat because he was losing weight; she spent a lot of time caring for him. She did not miss even one of his doctor appointments with him. Also during this period of time, my dad was sure he had cancer and that we his worst fear, to die of cancer; so he started to be consumed with his will. During several conversations with my mother she said my dad was constantly following her around the house telling her how much he loved her and what a great wife she has been and that was annoying her. He secretly went to seem my Aunt and Uncle and talk to them about my mother not accepting the fact that he is dying of cancer. They pointed out that he is not dying of cancer. His reply was "I know my body and the doctors don't know what they're talking about." He also spoke to them about his relationship with God. On that day he was told all he has to do is talk to God and everything will be all right. I'm sure he did talk to God because three days before the killing, I had a dream that my dad died and came back to life and I asked him why are you smiling and he said because I talked to God and everything is going to be alright. I had no idea of the conversation with my Aunt and Uncle until talking with them the week of the funeral. The same day as the dream, earlier that morning, I spoke to my mother who said my dad was driving her nuts because he was pacing the living room like a caged animal; I did not tell her my dream because I told myself earlier that morning after the dream, I will not be superstitious. I did tell a co-worker about the dream and my conversation with my mother when I got off the phone with her.

Saturday, April 4, 1998, my mother took her usual daily four-mile walk around their neighborhood and waived hi to a few neighbors. To the neighbors, all seemed fine with my mother. She had started making a meal my father liked, and left the ingredients on the counted and went into the bedroom to take a nap, as she usually did during the day. While she was sleeping, my father came into the bedroom and shot her twice in the chest, called 911, said in business like fashion, that there has been a homicide and there will be a suicide and gave them their address. He then went to the bedroom, put the gun in his mouth and pulled the trigger.

Even with all the signs that were given that my dad was depressed, we never saw it coming. Not my mother, not my sister, my relatives, their friends, me, no one. My dad just was not that kind of person to do such a terrible thing. We all knew he was depressed but we had no idea of the magnitude of his depression or the knowledge of the capabilities of someone depressed. Even if we had, we would all still say my dad would never do such a thing!

I don't know why he took my mom with him. I saw the suicide note he started writing to her so we know that she wasn't part of his original plan. What was the deciding factor and at what point did he feel that he should include her? We will never know. We speculate that perhaps he thought she wouldn't be able to live by herself, we just don't know and it is very frustrating not having the answer. She was a very capable person and money was not an issue, so whatever his thought process was at that time is a mystery to us all. What a terrible, terrible thing for my father to have thought that he had the right to make a decision to take the life of my mother who was healthy and had a love for life.

From the moment I was told what happened to my parents, I immediately lost my short-term memory. I spent a lot of time crying, I drank gin and tonics nightly to cope, I quit my job and spent two months in bed. I stopped cleaning the house, my husband and I became distant and nothing made me happy, I didn't care if I lived or died. I felt that I would never recover from this horror.

After two and a half years in hell, I feel like I'm finally digging my way out of a pit. I started working again, I'm working at getting my memory back, mine and my husbands relationship is good, I started cleaning again and I don't rely on gin and tonics anymore. I'm starting to feel that I will be happy again. I still think about my parents daily and I find I get jealous when I see happy families and their parents or just elderly couples. That should be me and my parents. I feel so bitter at times and I still have crying spells. I can't say specifically what has changed, maybe, just the time that has passed and it is time to get better, or that one goes from trying to get through a horrible tragedy to saving oneself from an eternity of despair. I know I will never stop feeling pain over such a senseless, sad tragedy that occurred to such wonderful, undeserving people.

I do not hate my father because I feel he was as much a victim as my mother. I can only hope that people will be educated to know the signs and to be aware that even those you don't think capable just may be.