San Francisco — The sun was preternaturally bright the day Clare Senchyna’s 26 year-old son Camilo, her only child, was shot and killed in a random act of violence in San Francisco.
On that morning two years ago, Ms. Senchyna drew the orange curtains in her bedroom, pulled up her blankets and stayed in bed for much of the next several months. It seemed to her an appropriate response to the end of the world.
Her son, an emergency medical technician, had been out celebrating the completion of his paramedic classes when he was murdered across the street from Ms. Senchyna’s favorite yoga studio. A single mom and urgent care nurse practitioner, Ms. Senchyna began drinking heavily, plying herself with sleeping pills, and felt suicidal enough to commit herself to a local hospital before quickly determining that “a psych ward is not a place for grief.”
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