Through the Valley of Shadows, Part 4 of 4

 

Taylor Pryor on a Guatemalan mountain top

We’ve all heard the advice that “the first year is the hardest” when someone you love dies. In the case of Taylor Pryor, her parents Doug and Darseen felt so numb and exhausted from the stress of the previous year, that the second year proved harder than the first. Well-meaning people can say unhelpful things. One man who had lost a son called Doug to express sympathy. “They tell you it gets easier with time,” the man said. “But it never gets easier.”

That was not what Doug needed to hear.

Isn’t it odd how we all feel the need to say something, anything, when what people in these circumstances need most is simply a listening and sympathetic presence? For the first few weeks after Taylor’s passing, friends came every evening to just sit and listen and cry with them.

While Doug and Darseen admit it’s difficult to see Taylor’s many friends going on with their lives, it brings them comfort at the same time. When her friend Mercy threw a party on Taylor’s birthday so all her friends could come to share their memories and celebrate her life, it brought joy to their hearts. The arrival of their first grandchild, a little girl, early in 2021 also helped soothe their broken hearts and bring joy.

When I asked the Pryors whether they had any specific scriptures they cling to, Darseen told me the most significant one has been Psalm 46:10, “Be still and know that I am God.” For Doug, it would be the passage in Matthew 14 where Jesus invites Peter to walk on the water with him. Peter succeeds only as long as he keeps his eyes on Jesus. When he looks at the storm around him, he begins to sink.

In another Peter story, several followers have walked away from Jesus because they simply cannot understand his difficult teachings. Jesus looks at his twelve disciples and asks if they, too, will leave. Peter says, “Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life.” (John 6:68)

All this boils down to surrendering to God’s sovereignty. Like Habakkuk in the Old Testament, the Pryor family has no explanation for why God allowed such horrific things to happen. How do you continue to believe that God is both all-good and all-powerful when He did not prevent this? “I know God is going to redeem this,” Doug said.

I wish I could adequately describe for them what happens in my own heart when I hear this, or when I see Doug and Darseen continue to raise their hands in worship at church. I can’t begin to grasp the level of their pain, but I wonder if their particular brand of “rejoicing” will be their ongoing battle for improved, consistent mental health care for others. I wonder whether they will get to see for themselves how Taylor did indeed change the world for good.

If they were to compose their own paraphrase of Habakkuk 3:17-19, I wonder if it might look something like this:

“Though our precious daughter is no longer here,
Though she was unjustly treated by our health care system,
Though our hearts are broken beyond repair,
Yet we will rejoice in the Lord, our Redeemer.
The Sovereign Lord will give us strength to carry on until the day we see our beautiful Taylor’s face again, and we finally, truly understand.”

If you or someone you know is struggling with suicidal thoughts, help is available. From anywhere in Canada, call: 1-833-456-4566 (24/7). Adults can text: 741741. Youth can text: 686868. Website - www.talksuicide.ca

Through the Valley of Shadow, Part 3 of 4

October 16, 2019 was the last time Darseen Pryor saw her daughter Taylor alive, scaling a fence along a busy highway near the University of Manitoba, only four days away from being admitted to the Selkirk Mental Health Centre. Over the next two days, a search team including police and numerous volunteers scoured the area for Taylor.

When those deer took off that day in the forest, Doug knew his daughter had passed away. God was preparing him for the news. Moments later, he learned that friends had found Taylor’s body. Doug had been all over the area where she was found but had not seen her. God, in His mercy, had spared him.

“I’d believed without a doubt that God would pull her through,” Doug told me more than two years later. He had received God’s promise that Taylor would be a world-changer, that she would influence government, that she would affect nations and youth. “So many were praying and so many prayers were answered. God had told me we needed to fast. We did forty days of prayer and fasting for Taylor, and so many people participated with us. It was such an encouragement. I just assumed she would be here to fulfill that world-changing promise.”

That night, a search volunteer named Darrell, a stranger to the family, had a dream. He shared it with the Facebook group that had been established as a way for searchers to communicate with each other. In Darrell’s dream, Taylor visited him. She was wearing a pale blue dress and glowing with joy. She stood in a garden, surrounded by animals, and she kept talking about her “baby.” Then she brought a man over to Darrell and said, “This is my dad’s dad.” Before she left, she told Darrell to “take care of Dad and Teaghan.”

While Darrell may have known that Teaghan was Taylor’s sister, he could not have known that it would be Doug and Teaghan who would struggle the hardest in those early months. He could not have known that Taylor loved plants and animals, or that her paternal grandfather had died when Doug was only sixteen. He could not have known that Taylor always referred to her dog as “My Baby.”

Darrell’s dream gave mourners much to hold on to. Taylor’s funeral at Prairie Alliance Church was standing-room-only, spilling over into all the overflow areas of her church. Many who didn’t even know Taylor came out to support the family. They heard firsthand from her friends and family about what an incredible person she was.

How does a family go on when their worst nightmare is realized? When their emotional and physical resources have been completely depleted? When they feel let down by their health care system?

Somehow, Doug and Darseen found the strength to continue to fight, in hopes that other struggling individuals—many with far less support than Taylor had—would not fall through the cracks. By February of 2020, they had done an extensive interview with CBC television and told Taylor’s story nationwide. Dr. Gerrard continued to fight on their behalf. Doors opened for them to meet with the province’s Health Minister and they had ongoing meetings with the head of their regional health authority. It seemed Taylor truly would be a world-changer, affecting governments and youth, although nowhere close to the way her parents had dreamed it would unfold.

Then the Covid-19 pandemic struck. At first, Doug and Darseen were glad for the forced isolation. They weren’t ready to have people around and this gave them an excuse to avoid it. On one hand, the pandemic slowed their grieving process. At the same time, it threw a blanket over everything they were trying to accomplish. Suddenly the entire world was focused on Covid. Though mental health issues would spiral out of control during and because of the pandemic, much of the fallout remains to be seen.

Doug admitted to having suicidal thoughts himself. He had shared the story about the deer with his pastor who told him, “I think God is going to use deer to speak with you more in the future.”

And God has. In one case, while staying at a friend’s cabin, a doe came right up to Doug as he sat on the deck and allowed him to stroke its neck. Another time, he was driving down the road, crying out to God in despair. “Lord,” he hollered. “I know Taylor is safe with you, but I just need confirmation! I need something. I need another deer. Could you send me a big buck?” Moments later, he had to stop the car to avoid a large buck. It stood in the middle of the road looking at him before running off. The clock on the car dash read 10:19. Taylor’s body was found on October 19.

Moments like that keep Doug and Darseen going, even while they live with broken hearts and, at times, unbearable grief. Next week I’ll share the last installment of their story. 

Taylor with Guatemalan children on a missions trip

Through the Valley of Shadow, Part 2 of 4

Taylor Pryor

While Doug Pryor remained in Portage la Prairie for work, his wife Darseen was grateful she’d retired from her nursing job only a year earlier. She’d also given up her position on the board of the Portage Pregnancy Support Centre, not knowing what might be coming but sensing God leading her to hand over that position. As their daughter Taylor’s mental health continued to digress and need constant vigilance, Darseen knew she could never have done it if she still had those other demands on her time and energy.

Despite all the efforts on their daughter’s behalf, despite wonderful community support, Taylor’s suicide attempts continued to increase. Over the months that followed, she attempted suicide at least twenty-two times. She saw at least thirteen psychiatrists and five other medical doctors. In one instance, seventy hours passed while health professionals bounced her between three different facilities before she was finally admitted. Everywhere the Pryors turned, they received conflicting messages. One doctor would say she needed the psychotherapy treatment program available at the Selkirk Mental Health Centre. Another would decide she wasn’t well enough to go. One would prescribe medication; another would take her off that and give her something else. Some staff would communicate freely while others would state that Taylor was an adult and privacy rules prevented them from sharing the information with Doug and Darseen.

Waiting in noisy, chaotic ERs where the staff seemed focused on settling Taylor down and sending her home did not work. Many times, they would release her and within twenty-four hours she would be back in the hospital after attempting suicide. With a choked voice, Doug tried to describe the pain of standing helplessly by while several professionals tackled his daughter and held her down so they could shoot a sedative into her.

In one incident, Taylor’s sister Raela found her on a bridge near St. Boniface hospital after Taylor left the ER. Raela knew where to look because of something Taylor had said while seeing the bridge from a hospital window. Sure enough, when Raela arrived, Taylor was preparing to jump into the Red River below. A stranger in a bright orange shirt stopped to help. Taylor did not resist but allowed the young man and Raela to escort her back to the hospital where her parents waited.

In the chaos, the young man simply disappeared, and they never learned his name. Doug is convinced he was an angel sent from God, wearing Taylor’s favorite color.

In August of 2019, a passerby found Taylor lying in the middle of the road on William Avenue after she was discharged from the Crisis Response Centre. Police picked her up and took her to the Health Sciences Centre ER.

Doug and Darseen managed to secure an appointment with a concussion specialist in Calgary, a full day’s drive from home. While they were there, another suicide attempt caused Taylor to miss the appointment. They returned home in defeat. The constant vigilance was taking a deep toll, despite feeling tremendous support from their church community. Doug served on his church board at the time, and sometimes the pastor would stop the board business so they could pray for Taylor. There were nights when family and friends were out searching for Taylor in Winnipeg while board members prayed back in Portage. They texted Doug about what God was showing them. In one instance, a praying board member received a vision of Taylor sitting on a park bench. From that description, the family was able to find her.

They continued trying to get Taylor into the treatment center in Selkirk, typically a six-month wait. With the help of Manitoba Legislative Member Dr. Jon Gerrard, Taylor’s name was moved up the list, reducing her wait to two months. While they waited, her family grew hopeful as they were invited to join a support group for families of other Selkirk patients already in care.

On October 16, 2019, another attempt sent Taylor to the hospital where she was seen by psychiatry and kept overnight. Although she asked to stay, she was discharged the next day.

She walked out, then began to run. Her mother tried to follow in her car but lost sight of Taylor after she scaled a fence along a busy highway and disappeared into a wooded area at the University of Manitoba. It was the last time Darseen saw her daughter alive. She was four days away from being admitted to the Selkirk treatment center.

Continued next week.

Through the Valley of Shadow, Part 1 of 4

Doug Pryor slumped to the forest floor, exhausted. Was this the last time search parties would be sent out to look for his twenty-one-year-old daughter?

“God, I can’t go on.” He prayed. “I just need to know. Is Taylor safe?”

Just then, he spotted three deer not too far away.

“Lord, if she’s safe, bring one of those deer to me.”

The deer took off.

That’s when Doug knew.

Taylor Pryor was well known for her spunk and enthusiasm, her love for God, and her compassion for the downtrodden. As a student at Canadian Mennonite University in Winnipeg, she was in her element—encouraging the other girls and leading a Bible study. Video footage from a 2017 Missions trip to Guatemala reveals a vivacious young woman ready to take on the world. More than anything, she desired to make a difference in the lives of those God placed in her path.

Ending her first year at university with a round of written exams, Taylor flew immediately to Ontario to work in an asparagus-packing plant. Already exhausted, the isolation, long hours, and “no music” rule quickly took their toll on this extroverted young woman. When anxiety and suicidal thoughts began to surface, she returned to Manitoba and worked the rest of the summer as a camp counselor—for which she was far better suited. She returned to school in the fall.

During a college soccer game in October of 2018, Taylor collided mid-air with another player when both jumped for the ball. In the weeks that followed, she began to exhibit physical symptoms such as blurred vision, hearing problems, and an inability to stay focused or sleep. She saw a concussion specialist at a sports clinic where she received physiotherapy for her eyes.

Gradually, personality changes became apparent to her family and even more so to her friends in residence. She displayed anger and anxiety they hadn’t seen in Taylor before. She used language she would not typically use. She began to push her parents away, insisting that she could deal with it on her own.

“We let her do that for a while,” her mother Darseen said. “But it was really hard.”

“She distanced herself out of shame. She was embarrassed about where she was at,” Doug added.

Taylor pushed through that first term and came home for Christmas break, but her parents were beginning to see an entirely different person than the girl they knew. Back at school, things began to snowball. In February, she made her first suicide attempt. By March, Taylor had been in and out of hospitals numerous times. Her parents decided to find her an emotional support dog. Leaving the hospital on the day she was given a pass to go pick out her puppy, Taylor admitted to her roommate that she had no idea how to pick out a dog.

“Just sit back and wait. Your dog will pick you,” was the advice she received.

Taylor with her "baby"

So she did. Sure enough, as Taylor watched the little fur balls wrestle and play, one dog broke away from its siblings and waddled straight to Taylor, later falling asleep in Taylor’s lap. Although the dog’s name is officially Everly, Taylor’s main name for her was always, “My Baby.”

While the dog helped, the chaos escalated. It seemed the vigilance required simply to keep Taylor alive was becoming a full-time job. When Taylor was asked to leave the dorm because of all the disruptions, her parents began to look for an apartment. Finding a suitable one seemed impossible. They needed a place on ground level, near Taylor’s school, that accepted pets, and that was nice (putting someone struggling with anxiety in a run-down space is not helpful). With that sort of laundry list, the odds seemed impossible. But when a friend of a friend told them there was one available apartment in her building and they went to check it out, Doug and Darseen were able to check off all their boxes. In mid-April, they’d secured the apartment and Darseen moved into it with Taylor. As a bonus, their building was surrounded with lovely biking trails, one of which led to Taylor’s school in a ten-minute ride. It definitely felt like an answer to prayer.

To be continued next week.