Ricky's memorial

Ricky’s memorial

Some say we shouldn’t be honoring someone who took another person’s life. But that’s not what this event was about. This event was about honoring someone who had been the subject of his parents’ bizarre indiscretions which were made known to the world in their shamelessly publicized accounts. This was someone who saw his siblings and friends suffer a fate that no child should ever have to go through at the hands of their parents. And though Ricky tried to leave and leave it all behind he knew he could never be a normal person as his soul so cried out to be. And so, in a last burst of hopelessness, he took the life of someone who represented all that had been wrong in his life and of those he cared for deeply, who could never regain their childhood innocence that had been cruelly robbed of them. And that’s what this was about, a memorial of healing, to bring hope, validation and support to those who understood just what torment was going on in the heart and soul of Ricky – and that’s what I saw.

I walked to the seaside memorial just before dusk. Security was tight which was comforting for some reason. Enough abuse has happened, now the abused are in charge of their lives and will not allow anymore of such hurtful acts to be promulgated whether on their lives or the lives of their siblings and friends.

Don Irwin began and I felt riveted at such a soft-spoken, sure-steady eulogy. There was a control about this that was professional, well thought out and highly organized. I thought to myself, here are the offspring of The Family International pulling off an event their parents would never be able to match up to, so scatter brained they are. Several other friends of Ricky spoke and I saw a picture of a man who was just that, a young man like any young man. Wanting to hang out with his dudes and just be. His widow, Elixia, spoke and that’s when the tears fell, I couldn’t hold them back anymore. She spoke of how hard it was for Rick to adjust and be normal and how he felt he never could be what he wanted to be. Their friend, Missy, spoke - an outsider who never knew anything about TFI. When Rick and Elixia had dinner with her, they poured it out and she listened, amazed. She became their close friend and supporter. Sarafina recounted funny events when they were messing around that made them all laugh. She showed the fun loving side of “normal” Rick. She also showed the tender and caring side that always thought of others. Last to speak was Davida who talked about the hurt they had been through together and how much he supported her. That’s when I really lost my composure. Davida represented to me our hope of the future that we were so convinced we were doing the right thing for and yet here they were – we had failed them so miserably and so selfishly. Everyone got up and left and I sat there crying. I couldn’t believe my good intentions had been so horribly wrong. Thankfully, my daughter was there to hug me. The emotions were so high.

I got up on my wobbly legs and strode over the lawn to sign the guest book. I decided to look at the picture album Elixia had put together of her time with Rick and pictures of Rick and Davida growing up together as little children. Suddenly, a young girl grabbed me and said, “you’re A’s Mom!” I was already emotionally spent and now this. “Yes,” I said. “I’m ‘J’ – her best friend and I only left 2 years ago,” she exclaimed. She grabbed me and hugged me and we both started crying. She cried so hard her body was shaking. “She was my best friend and I miss her so much.” “So do I,” I said. And then we talked and talked. I asked about her parents. Her mom is still somewhere “on the field” and her dad had left years ago and was not really involved in her life. Life was difficult for her now with 3 kids in tow and she wished she had been more prepared.

And this is pretty much how the whole evening went until I petered out after midnight. I heard one story after another. There was not one person there that did not have a story like this to tell. I met many young people I knew when they were growing up. I also met people who knew me because of pictures or my children or because of their parents. They all greeted me so sweetly and kindly and we had such a good time reminiscing, even about the dumb stuff. This is what they needed though, they need to reflect and share memories because who else can they do that with? People need to reminisce about childhood memories, but there are precious few they can do that with. So many of them are on their own because, sadly, their parents are so involved in their “living the Godly life” that they’ve sacrificed their own offspring to fend for themselves.

Every time I turned around I would hear one person after another commenting - “Why haven’t we done this before? We need to do this again!”

There were so many people to talk to; I missed meeting or spending more time with people that I had intended on spending hours talking with. People kept coming up to me with funny comments or stories about their lives, etc. One young man who just met two of my adult children greeted me by saying, “Hi, I’m ‘A’s bastard son!” Apparently, he only found out when he was 16 who his true father is. Obviously, this did not sit well with him. We had known his father and his other family when we first left a F. home. Ah, the fruit of the Law of Love, right in front of me all evening. I looked around and felt I was in a room of pain and yet happiness at the same time which was bittersweet. Though they had many bitter stories, they were sweet people who were just happy to be amongst companions and friends who understood them and didn’t reject them like so many of their parents have and even some of their own siblings and their own generation.

At one point I made a comment about being one of the last FGA’s (me and Aza seemed to be the only ones still there at midnight) standing. A young lady whom we had lived next door to for 3 years in the early 90s rightly retorted that she hated those F. acronyms because it was so divisive. I decided then I would make every effort not to use those terms again.

Around midnight when they were closing up shop I decided I should go to my hotel room. My son and daughter who accompanied me were having such a good time, however, continued on with the evening. Partying and reminiscing. My oldest found an old friend he had lost touch with. They were happy to find each other again and exchanged phone numbers. I took the rental car to the hotel room while they partied on. I figured, though they were so nice to make me feel so wanted and comfortable with them, that this was their evening and they needed this for themselves.


I was also glad to meet Jules and introduce my daughter to her. She has been reading the posts on MovingOn and it has been a source of comfort. My oldest son was able to connect with other former members in his area through SaraS. who hooked him up with their email addresses. Jules was very gracious and kind to me and I didn’t feel I deserved it but I’m glad to have met her and know her a little bit more now than through typing out words which aren’t always the best indicator of what a person is like. Jules made a comment to me about being the perfect “confrontational person” to help out with a matter at the front desk. Well, that made me laugh!!!

I’m glad I went and that my two oldest could go with me. Watching them open up like little blossoms and be able to revisit their past and meet old and new friends, was the best part of the evening. I was glad to be able to meet the people I did and maybe just maybe be a small source of comfort to them, if even for one evening. I believe a lot of healing took place that night and I want to thank all those who made it so possible.