Most of us run hurry-scurry through the hours of our lives, eager to finish that pressing project at work, check the next thing off our list. We mark off dates on the calendar and flip the pages to book new commitments months away. We take our days in a rush and we take our tomorrows for granted. And then something happens, something so big, so unfathomable, that it makes us stop in our tracks, reassess our priorities, and rethink where we are going, what we are doing and what is important.##M:[more]##
Such a thing happened this week in Plainsboro, a place of community where our lives touch each other like the ripples in a pond and where one family’s tragedy has weighed down our hearts with a collective grief that is almost too much for words.
Elica Lauren Suzuki, a beautiful and bubbly second-grader at Town Center School, went out to play last Saturday morning, a day that dawned sunny and warm with the promise of summer. Family friends say she ran inside complaining that she didn’t feel well, and then collapsed. Efforts to revive her failed, and this sweet little girl, who was looking forward to celebrating her eighth birthday in just a few short weeks, died after being rushed to the hospital.
There are the medical whys of her death, the sudden death of an outwardly healthy child that have to be answered, but there is the other why, the larger why, that is so difficult to answer and perhaps even more to accept. Why this child, in the bright light of her youth? Why this family, her parents, brother, and grandparents, who loved her so much and expected to watch her grow up? And why now, especially now, in the full bloom of spring, when the earth is so green and reminds us that there is so much life to be celebrated?
These are the kinds of questions that can really make people angry, or crazy, or if they believe in God, cause them to stop believing or at the very least, to question his wisdom. These are the times that can try one’s faith and bring one to rail against life’s injustices and yet, these are also the times that can cause others to rise above and demonstrate extreme grace at a time of greatest darkness.
Such is Elica’s father, Dr. Ron Suzuki, who spoke at her memorial service just three days after her death. He talked about the long hours he spent as a doctor, how he had thought he needed to take more time off to spend with his family, and how, after losing his daughter, he wanted to remind us all to hold our children, because they are the most precious things we have. He thanked everybody who had come to their home to offer comfort because they had saved him from being alone with his thoughts. And then this brave and generous man offered to be there for anyone should they ever need his help in return. There was Elica’s mother, small and delicate, yet strong as she smiled through her sadness to hug people and thank them for sharing her daughter’s life.
It was impossible to hold back the tears as Elica’s aunt and grandmother, who had made the arduous journey from Japan, sang a loving goodbye to their little girl. Her grandfather did not make the long flight with them, apparently too weak with age and grief to cross the Pacific for the sad ceremony.
Seemingly incongruous in the setting of a funeral home, but at the same time entirely perfect, pink and purple balloons festooned the room, along with two of Elica’s favorite characters, Hello Kitty and Mickey Mouse.
Elica was remembered as a kind-hearted child who considered it her mission to save living creatures, even bugs, though she did show her sense of humor by drawing the line at stinkbugs. The Town Center Elementary School family came out in force, her second grade classmates walking in holding balloons along with the teachers who had known and loved her as well as her brother, a third-grader this year. Principal Brian Stevens said that everyone is working hard to help Elica’s schoolmates through this sudden, inexplicable loss, including assistant principal Mary Ann Fornal and school counselor Joyce Trotman, who bring their special brand of warmth and healing.
Children who want to do something in Elica’s memory are being encouraged to bring in a one dollar donation for a fund that will be used to purchase books for the Town Center School library. They will be marked with a bookplate bearing Elica’s name, and the collection will focus on ballet, animals and nature, all things she loved so much.
Elica also was a dancer at Princeton Dance and Theater studio, and her favorite part of class was the free dance at the end, when the music is played and the children move around to the beat and their own inner muse. This past Monday her teacher and fellow students dedicated that part of the class to her. During last year’s holiday season, Elica danced in DanceVision’s production of the Nutcracker, and one of the roles she danced was an angel.
In a statement dedicating their upcoming spring performance to Elica, PDT directors Risa Kaplowitz and Susan Jaffe helped us begin to accept the unacceptable with these eloquent words: “Elica’s beauty, sweetness, and grace were taken from us much too soon. She was one who seemed born to dance, and we are certain she is now dancing among the stars.”
PDT has created a scholarship fund in Elica’s name. The fund will assist underprivileged children in getting dance lessons and dance essentials. In lieu of flowers, her family has asked for donations to the Elica Suzuki Fund, c/o Princeton Dance and Theater Studio, 116 Rockingham Row, Princeton 08540.
