Gabby Petito died alone in a National Park. There should’ve been someone there to help her. In reality, 22 years of age is still a trusting kid. I didn’t have the pleasure of knowing her. I wasn’t there for her first steps or Kindergarten graduation. Pretty sure Gabby sailed through her milestones like all children do. She’d started a career as a “nutritionist”, but longed for an adventure. Living her dreams, she bought a van and converted it into a camper. Sharing her words with the world, she blogged across America.
In case the story has escaped you, Gabby was the victim of a homocide while visiting Wyoming. Murdered. We haven’t been told the entire story yet. Violent stories usually feature two angry people throwing wood on a flaming relationship. There are details that’ll never be revealed. It appears Gabby was in over her head, just like I was at her age. Those that COULD have helped didn’t know the entire story either. If so, things wouldn’t have ended this way.
Battered women have so much in common. We are quiet about the situation thinking we can handle it. We think each time will be the last, but in reality each time gets worse. We hope we can do better so the violence doesn’t come back more wicked and strong than the last time. Most battered women never get up the nerve to say “Enough is Enough”. It takes so much strength to tell. Even more strength to walk away. I know. In 1983 I did just that with a little boy under each arm.
Gabby was in a police car for a time. Four or five professionals talked to her, and then, Brian. Over an hour was recorded on police cameras. She was safe for a tiny bit, looking child-like in the back of the patrol car. Of course, Brian looked like a choir boy. In the end, Gabby was found to be the villain, Brian the victim. Brian got a hotel room from a victim advocacy group. Gabby was told to take 24 hours to think about things. She was safe, until she was dead days later. The policemen are victims, too. Their hands were tied by what they could and couldn’t do legally. It’s all displayed on You Tube for the world to watch. If only things had gone differently. Gabby might be safe in the loving arms of her dad.
Gabby had strength. Evidenced by her courage, her heart yearned for adventure and a writing career. It feels amazing to watch blog readership grow. In one year, I have IP addresses from over 70 countries. Just little, old me typing away at 4:30 in the morning. With no advertising, 65,000 computers have logged onto my site. Friends write to check up on me when I go off line for a day or two. I matter to a few other people in the world. People I’ll never know. Just a few months ago, 70 people a day were reading. These days the number is around 440. I know Gabby’s blog was much more successful than mine, and she must have been so proud. Even though Brian didn’t believe in her, she believed in herself. She thought she could so she did.
It’s dreadfully painful when your partner doesn’t believe in your abilities as a writer. Her boyfriend didn’t. I’ve experienced that. For many years, I shelved my stories in a mental vault. Steered by “Shouldn’t” and “How could you?”, I allowed my stories to wait. I’ll never wait again. It took me 65 years to discover who I am as a writing woman. Gabby knew this much earlier in life.
Camping for weeks on end isn’t all glamor. It’s hard work. Setting up camp. Breaking up camp. Long hours of driving. No one really knows how vast and diverse the US of A is until you drive across it. Planning the trip of a life time a few miles at a time, she was hoping to earn money working at her favorite National Parks. Odd jobs here and there could extend their trip. She would write about every last detail.
When I was her age, I was awaiting the birth of my first son. My destiny changed my life’s path. Gabby was charting her own course. Beautiful, happy, and just plain lovely, she had the world at her fingertips until it was robbed from her and her loved ones.
Being a mom, my heart goes out to her family. They must be gutted. In a fog worse than any I’ve ever experienced in my life. The light of their family is gone forever. Pointless. Needless. Violent. Forever. All in the high beams of Headline News.
I long to hit the road in a van like hers, knowing what it’s like to live on the road for weeks at a time. I long to sit by the side of the road and watch the bison, elk, and antelope. The big blue sky of Wyoming dwarfs that of Nevada, and stole my heart long ago. No comparison to any other place in the world, in my experience. She died in a place I plan to visit someday. She died doing what I can only dream of. She lived as my heart wishes it could. On the road. Gabby and I had a lot in common, and yet, we never even met.
My heart goes out to Brian’s family, as well. Mental illness and violence are horrible things that plague many families, including my own. Struggling white sons have a lot on their plates in this crazy world. Vilified by the imaginary sins of their white fathers. Hard work labeled by the lazy as “White Man Privilege”. Trying to pick out their own path, step by step, the methods their parents used to create a life are not the same today. Many young men have no clue what their life’s direction should be, and so they wander. The 20’s are an age of confusion. An age to try different scenarios. A time to play at adulting, when in reality, they’re just kids in bigger bodies. Under the microscope of adults that don’t quite understand today’s world, they smolder.
Pray for everyone involved in this, the saddest of stories. With time, justice will be served. It’s not ours to judge, as we’ll never know all the details leading up to this tragedy. Battered women suffer every single day in silence. No doubt you’d be shocked at those you know already. Really listen to your friends. Support them. Hear them even when the words they utter are different than what you observe. No woman or man deserves abuse at the hand of another.
Gabby Patito. Rest in Peace, Sweet Girl in the Rainbow Angel Wings. You’ll be missed. Every best seller you were destined to write will wait for us in heaven. Wyoming rainbows will remind me of you. God Speed, Gabby. We miss you.