Dr. Kathryn Faughey

I did not know Dr. Kathryn Faughey, but we had a lot in common. We are both psychologists in private practice, who worked within a mixed group of psychologists, psychiatrists, and social workers on 79th street on the upper east side of Manhattan. From what I read in the papers, she was a beautiful redhead, extremely compassionate as a therapist, a great wife, and beloved by her large group of family and friends. I wish I could have met her at a psychology convention or in a restaurant, or at any other professional meeting rather than hearing about her tragic death by the hands of a psychotic individual.

Dr. Faughey's death brought emotional disruption, fear, sadness, and also great beauty into my life. Even before I read about her tragic killing, my telephone was ringing off the hook, as were my e-mails. The worry and love that poured into my life on the days that followed were a tribute to the kind, great woman that she seemed to be. People that I had no idea even noticed me were telling me how much they worried about me when they first heard of the tragedy and also how happy they were when they found out I was still alive: telephone repairmen, the super of my building, patients from near and far, the man who fixes my jewlery, the barista at the place where I buy MY de-caf, the sweet Irish florist that sells me flowers each week, even the women in the large group of students who study with me every Thursday..

There is a lesson to be learned from this outpouring: Many people in your life really care that you are in it. I had no idea that so many people had noticed me. This is a moment to stop and pause and realize that although no one ordinarily expresses interest and love as a matter of course except perhaps the most nearest and dearest, and that is only sometimes at best, the people whose lives cross yours find you as important as you probably find them.

As a tribute to the senseless death of a very fine person, say something affirming to someone who is in your life--of course the ones who are close, but also the people who are part of your life that come and go depending on what service or product you need.

A second lesson to learn from this tragedy and any tragedy is how much life is like the weather--one moment it is sunny, then it is cloudy, then it rains, then it snows, and then it is sunny again. Of course Dr Faughey is not here to experience any more sudden changes that are out of her control, but the rest of us can learn yet another lesson from this good person's sudden end--each day we are here is a miracle and if we allow some small realization of this to enter our awareness--it will enhance our appreciation of everyday life.