While most of us were celebrating the July 4th weekend with friends and family, barbecuing, watching fireworks and ushering in the summer, a teenage girl was brutally murdered. The chilling death of 18-year-old Lauren Astley appears to have been at the hands of her former 18-year-old boyfriend, Nathaniel Fujita. Both teens come from Wayland, Massachusetts, which I often refer to as “Pleasantville”–simply because nothing much seems to happen here. Our little enclave feels like a safe haven from the rest of the world. The last murder in Wayland occurred over 25 years ago.
Lauren and Nate were both fine students, athletic, well rounded and headed off to good colleges in the fall. Now all bets are off. Lauren has been laid to rest, Nate is in prison without bail awaiting the next steps and a community reels in pain. Anguish, helplessness and despair pervade our little town.
The light in this tragedy is that people are stepping up to support each other as we attempt to make sense out of this horrific loss. We have lost not one but two of our collective children–every parent’s greatest nightmare. Vigils and meetings at the schools, churches, synagogue, and town hall have brought people together so they can talk, process and grieve.
There are no words that suffice at a time like this; the wound is still gaping. Tears continue to flow and Lauren’s senseless murder has forever changed the fabric of our community. Coming together, sharing thoughts and feelings helps us heal and move away from the darkness.
Traumatic loss reminds us of the frailty of human life as well as the impact of the people left behind. Violent death poses a unique challenge to the bereaved and produces unexpected aftershocks.
What can be done in the face of traumatic loss?
•Come together in (formal and informal) groups to talk about the event, feelings and fears. Hearing the collective voices of pain over a loss can help to minimize the agony of suffering alone.
•Tap into spiritual resources–prayer can be especially powerful during times of grief, as can be the support of religious sanctuaries.
•Find a way to make a difference, by acknowledging and supporting others in pain.
•Foster the development of healing stories in the face of loss. As Lauren’s mother described, whenever she looks into the night’s sky, the brightest, twinkling star will be her reminder of her beautiful, charismatic girl.
•Remember the healing process for traumatic grief can be a lengthy and chaotic process. We need to understand that everyone experiences grief and healing in different ways. It is crucial that we give ourselves and each other the time and space to heal at our own pace.
Our community continues to create groups, which facilitate meaningful conversations and togetherness. This is indeed the loss of innocence for a generation of youths in the Wayland community. Our collective caring and support for one another will ultimately ease the excruciating pain and leave us stronger and more connected.
Please leave your comments or suggestions about managing a traumatic death.

{ 2 comments… read them below or add one }
Randy – thank you for sharing these thoughts. I am having a hard time coping with this and look forward to talking.
Thank you Randy
Words fail me as does reason, but all I can say is that this is almost unbearably difficult, and more so being on another continent. Both my son & I are away for the summer, but not even able to support one another as we are in different countries. I am reading everything that all of you are emailing from Wayland, wishing I (we) could attend gatherings and hug our friends and neighbors-console one another. It is such a short time since I was on the football field hugging other families and saying, “Yeah! We did it! They did it! Our boys have made it through and will be on their way to college!” Nate’s family was one in particular that I enjoyed that moment with. Now- words fail me/us.
So I have a request- if others feel able to write to me (via email) or to add their thoughts here, I would be so happy to share these thoughts with you. It is hard to grieve alone.
Warm thoughts to all, Katy