Mother carries on daughter's dream of sharing special dresses

MODESTO, Calif. —
Great academics, with a 4.29 grade-point average at
Inside, though, stress and turmoil reigned.
"She wrote poetry, and her poems were always dark," mom
A side, mom said, that included meltdowns. Marissa panicked when a computer system crashed as she tried to meet a college application deadline. She also worried she didn't speak enough languages or hadn't done enough community service to impress admissions officers at
On
She left behind a large extended family, including Shaw, who will never understand why her daughter chose to die at 17. Her mother, now on medical leave from her job as public relations manager for
But Shaw is determined that Marissa will be remembered for the good she accomplished — something Shaw needs desperately to help her cope with the devastation of losing her only child.
As a junior, Marissa recognized that many high school girls could not afford the expensive dresses worn at the winter formals and proms. So she began asking friends, relatives and others for new and used dresses.
By
Shaw decided to perpetuate the dress giveaway in her daughter's honor, fulfilling Marissa's dream of helping other girls experience theirs: Looking their best on prom night.
Hence, "Marissa's Closet" was born. Shaw created a nonprofit organization and set a goal of collecting more than 700 dresses to distribute in March — in time for the spring formals.
With the help of her sister,
She chose to stock Marissa's Closet, "to collect prom dresses to give to girls who need them to make their prom night special," Garcia said, echoing Marissa's purpose. Garcia has collected dozens of the dresses, and set her sights on gathering 300 by herself.
They will have a booth at the Ripon Almond Blossom Festival
"I want to have a chapter in every state," Shaw said.
Shaw also has established a scholarship fund, its treasury to be supplied by direct contributions and from proceeds from a dinner and silent auction event scheduled
To do anything less would be, well, very un-Marissa-like, Shaw said.
"Everything she did was big," she said. "I have to remember that when I'm doing this, my daughter always dreamed big and I have to help other girls dream big, too."
Tears welled in Shaw's eyes, as she tried in vain to project her own perfect outer shell.
Inside, though, is a mother desperately looking to transform pain into hope by carrying on Marissa's work.
"This," Shaw said, pointing to racks of formal gowns in her living room, "is the only thing I have left to hold of my daughter."