a week of reflection, a week for celebration

Easter '85. Kyle found the prize egg at Granny's.

My brother Kyle would have been thirty years old tomorrow. Thirty years old. It's hard to comprehend.

I was twelve years old when we lost him, and in my mind he's still sixteen. Sixteen. It's difficult to think of my big brother as my "big brother" when I am now twenty-six years old. I am twenty-six years old, and my big brother is still sixteen. See what I mean?

That was such a defining moment in my life. Tragedy usually is. People still use that to explain to others who we are, I'm sure. I know I do it for others. "Oh, that's so-and-so's mom. Remember? That girl that died in the car wreck?" We all do it.

I feel like those years are such a blur. I only have little flashes and things that I've retained because of photographs, but I don't remember much beyond that. Even in high school I couldn't remember...I must have blocked it all out somehow.

When my cousin Monica was about two, she was also the only survivor in a car accident that took the lives of her 4 year-old brother Eric, step dad, mom and their unborn baby. All Monica suffered was a broken leg. My granny raised her until for nearly fourteen years until they were in a car accident just months after Kyle died, and Monica was once again the sole survivor. I can't even begin to imagine that kind of loss and trauma. She came to live with us for a few years after that until she was old enough to get her own place. I really don't remember much about that time in my life, except that I eventually started sleeping in Kyle's room because she stayed up later than I did doing homework. We're very different, but I love her like the sister I never had. She is expecting her second child this summer, and Top Gun and I are going to be his Godparents.

My Paw Paw passed away in his sleep the year after we lost Kyle and Granny. I woke up to the sound of my Nenaw crying out to him to wake up. I knew immediately what was going on, but I didn't know what to do. I just sat on the couch quietly while in came the ambulance...coroner...and finally my parents came to take me home. Things happened in the years following his death that tore our family apart, and it has never been the same, but I remain close to my Nenaw and try to call and visit whenever I can.

All of that said, you now have a little insight into who I am and why I am the way I am. I always thought that I would change things if I could...and I'm sure I would...what can I say, I'm selfish? But nonetheless, all of past has made me who I am today. I don't think that I would value life and family the way I do now if I hadn't suffered so much loss. I am so thankful for all that God has blessed me with: two selfless parents; a loving husband; a happy, healthy, and beautiful baby girl; money in the bank; a safe house; a car that runs; an education; food; my health and so on and so on and so on.

Of course, it took me YEARS before I got through the seven steps. It was only days at Kyle's visitation when I got past the shock and denial. Steps two and three (pain and guilt, anger and bargaining) were kind of bundled up together and took a few years. Stage four was the hardest and longest. I think the depression was about five years. I tried all sorts of ridiculous things to feel/to not feel, and I hit my low in Christmas of 2003, a month before I started dating Top Gun. He was my saving grace. Don't get me wrong, God had His fingerprints all over it, but it was the man God brought into my life who started the upward turn (stage five) and reconstruction (stage six). I think stage seven is and always will be never-ending. I continue to accept my past and find hope in my present and future. Anytime I've thought I had it bad, I look around and see so many people much worse off and count my blessings.

Please don't for one instant take a person, moment, or your life for granted. It could all change tomorrow.

On another note, Happy Easter! Praise God that we will all be reunited one day in heaven. Thank you for sacrificing your Son!