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"Turning the Page"
Today my sixteen year old granddaughter Keeley received her driver's license.
This is a day of mixed emotions for me. I immediately go back in time to the day that changed my life forever.
March 7, 1986, began much like any other. It was a teacher's work day and my daughter, Beth, was out of school. It was THE day for her... the day she was to get her driver's license. A big day in anyone's life.
Karen, Beth's best friend, had spent the night. They attended a movie on Thursday night, and had dinner at the Red Lobster. They both loved crab and ate "a ton" by their own admission. How they managed to bring home extras, I don't know. Beth and Karen stayed up late chatting and talking on the phone to Karen's first serious boyfriend, Keith. Beth had never met Keith, but was looking forward to the meeting. She was very happy that Karen seemed crazy about him.
Friday morning was unusually cold. Beth and Karen dressed in jeans, Izod shirts, and topped them with baggy sweat shirts. They drove to Hardee's and picked up sausage biscuits for breakfast. I had hot chocolate ready when they returned. We all sat around the table and talked about our busy day ahead.Beth and Karen got the left over crab from the fridge to have for breakfast. I thought it an odd choice, but Beth said, "Hey, if I had to choose a last meal, it would BE crab legs."
Beth asked out of nowhere, "Have you ever wondered what your last day on Earth would be like?" Karen said, "No. I don't want to think about it. It seems so depressing." Beth continued. "Last night I dreamed... no NOT dreamed... it was like it was real. Uncle Rhette came to me in my room and he talked to me. He did not have a speech impediment. He had beautiful white teeth, a full head of silver hair, and he was not sick at all. He was perfectly healthy. He looked so young and vibrant."
My Uncle Rhette always lived with my family. He was actually my Daddy's uncle. We "inherited" Uncle Rhette when my great grandmother died. He always seemed like an older brother. Though he was mentally challenged, he functioned at around a ten year old level.
I loved him unconditionally. When I moved away from home, Uncle Rhette came to live with me. He loved my girls - especially Beth. It was no secret that Beth and I were his favorite people. He viewed us as perfect and would challenge anyone who tried to make him aware of his flawed thinking. He was our supporter, our biggest cheerleader, and most of all - the person who taught ME to love unconditionally.
Uncle Rhette suffered a nearly fatal heart attack in July 1985. We honestly thought he would never recover. He really never did recover, but he was able to come home for a few months - though he was never rehabilited to his normal degree of health. Uncle Rhette was seriously impaired. He could do nothing for himself. It was Beth and I who took care of his needs. We did it with love, respect, and out of a sense of love - not a sense of responsibility.
We cherished the time we were allowed with Uncle Rhette. We clung to every minute, enjoying what we knew would be our last days with him. We worked really hard to make the holidays special. There were lots of pictures taken. Many visitors. Good food. Family sing-a-longs and many inexpensive but thoughtful gifts. It was simply the best of the holidays. Thanksgiving was splendid with visits from rarely seen relatives and friends. But Christmas... it was special and memorable.
January 22, 1986 Uncle Rhette gave up fighting. Beth wondered WHY he had suffered as long as he did. She gave him permission to leave us on Tuesday. he had become too weak to eat his favorite food. She said, "Don't stay here for Mama and me. You have fought a good fight, Uncle Rhette. You are allowed to finish the course."
Beth never saw him alive again. He passed away peacefully while Beth was in school. I was late picking her up, but when she got into the car, she already knew... she said she felt him leave. I believed her then and I especially believe her now.
So, that Friday morning, March 7, Beth was telling of her "vision" and visit from Uncle Rhette. Karen had to leave. She had a busy day planned. Beth and I were off to the DMV for her driving test. When we got there, it was quite crowded. It seems that everyone out of school showed up to get a license or permit. We waited hours. We talked about Uncle Rhette and I cried. I wondered why he had to go. I really missed him. He had grown to feel like my child. He was totally dependent on me. Beth said, "Mama, you are tormenting yourself. People die. You will never know why. You live in a place of questions. You go on to a land of answers." Actually, this was not unusual conversation for Beth. She was always really deep and made observations beyond her experience and chrono logical age.
Finally, a DMV test officer came out and said, "I have time for only one more test. If this young man goes out on the road, there will be no time for another test. You can stick around a few minutes just in case his car doesn't pass inspection or something."
Beth said, "Well, we might as well stay just to see." I agreed. The boy went out, got into his car, and immediately backed into a car that was driving through the lot. The test officer came back in, sent a highway patrol to the parking lot, and said, "I can take you for a drive. Let me get the paperwork."
Beth was in shock. She said, "That is so odd. I wonder if anyone ever got killed the same day they got their license." I told her that given the odds, probably very few had died the same day they got licensed, but that it had happened somewhere, I was sure.
Beth got her license without a hitch. Perfect score, they said. Her driver's license photo was good! Unlike mine where I appear as a serial killer. She was so very happy. I was thrilled for her. It was a big privilege. Beth was only fifteen.
When we arrived home, Beth's dad was there waiting to take her home with him for the weekend. He had bought her a little silver sports car. She waved to Jessica and me as she drove off... smiling and excited to be driving for REAL.
Beth said, "I love you."
We never saw her alive again. A freak accident two hours later cost
Beth - my beautiful first born daughter - her life. It was instant. No hope. No chance of survival given the multiple injuries. As dead as she was alive the day before. My hopes, my dreams, dashed in a second. Jessica sisterless, devastated, and irreparably damaged. Me - a mess... a total mess. I still don't know how I survived.
Twenty one years later, I am finally writing about it. I never could before. It was way too painful.
But today, I turned the page. My experience has come full circle.
Jessica watched her daughter Keeley drive away today and then MY daughter went into her house and suffered a mini-breakdown, because the 1986 memory of her only sister flooded her mind causing her to relive the last moment she saw Beth alive.
Jessica called and was hysterical. I understood. I was controlling my hysteria - but barely.
Keeley arrived safely at my house. She picked up burgers for supper. She had a headache, she said, took a Tylenol and went to bed early.
I whispered a prayer of thanks that she can FEEL... that she is indeed ALIVE. That Keeley survived her first day of being a licensed driver.
Well, just like with Jessica, and her first day of driving, and my mini breakdown then... I take one day at a time... still fearing the worst... still hoping for the best...
I hold onto the hope that I NEVER have to outlive another one of my children or grandchildren.
Jo :)
Today my sixteen year old granddaughter Keeley received her driver's license.
This is a day of mixed emotions for me. I immediately go back in time to the day that changed my life forever.
March 7, 1986, began much like any other. It was a teacher's work day and my daughter, Beth, was out of school. It was THE day for her... the day she was to get her driver's license. A big day in anyone's life.
Karen, Beth's best friend, had spent the night. They attended a movie on Thursday night, and had dinner at the Red Lobster. They both loved crab and ate "a ton" by their own admission. How they managed to bring home extras, I don't know. Beth and Karen stayed up late chatting and talking on the phone to Karen's first serious boyfriend, Keith. Beth had never met Keith, but was looking forward to the meeting. She was very happy that Karen seemed crazy about him.
Friday morning was unusually cold. Beth and Karen dressed in jeans, Izod shirts, and topped them with baggy sweat shirts. They drove to Hardee's and picked up sausage biscuits for breakfast. I had hot chocolate ready when they returned. We all sat around the table and talked about our busy day ahead.Beth and Karen got the left over crab from the fridge to have for breakfast. I thought it an odd choice, but Beth said, "Hey, if I had to choose a last meal, it would BE crab legs."
Beth asked out of nowhere, "Have you ever wondered what your last day on Earth would be like?" Karen said, "No. I don't want to think about it. It seems so depressing." Beth continued. "Last night I dreamed... no NOT dreamed... it was like it was real. Uncle Rhette came to me in my room and he talked to me. He did not have a speech impediment. He had beautiful white teeth, a full head of silver hair, and he was not sick at all. He was perfectly healthy. He looked so young and vibrant."
My Uncle Rhette always lived with my family. He was actually my Daddy's uncle. We "inherited" Uncle Rhette when my great grandmother died. He always seemed like an older brother. Though he was mentally challenged, he functioned at around a ten year old level.
I loved him unconditionally. When I moved away from home, Uncle Rhette came to live with me. He loved my girls - especially Beth. It was no secret that Beth and I were his favorite people. He viewed us as perfect and would challenge anyone who tried to make him aware of his flawed thinking. He was our supporter, our biggest cheerleader, and most of all - the person who taught ME to love unconditionally.
Uncle Rhette suffered a nearly fatal heart attack in July 1985. We honestly thought he would never recover. He really never did recover, but he was able to come home for a few months - though he was never rehabilited to his normal degree of health. Uncle Rhette was seriously impaired. He could do nothing for himself. It was Beth and I who took care of his needs. We did it with love, respect, and out of a sense of love - not a sense of responsibility.
We cherished the time we were allowed with Uncle Rhette. We clung to every minute, enjoying what we knew would be our last days with him. We worked really hard to make the holidays special. There were lots of pictures taken. Many visitors. Good food. Family sing-a-longs and many inexpensive but thoughtful gifts. It was simply the best of the holidays. Thanksgiving was splendid with visits from rarely seen relatives and friends. But Christmas... it was special and memorable.
January 22, 1986 Uncle Rhette gave up fighting. Beth wondered WHY he had suffered as long as he did. She gave him permission to leave us on Tuesday. he had become too weak to eat his favorite food. She said, "Don't stay here for Mama and me. You have fought a good fight, Uncle Rhette. You are allowed to finish the course."
Beth never saw him alive again. He passed away peacefully while Beth was in school. I was late picking her up, but when she got into the car, she already knew... she said she felt him leave. I believed her then and I especially believe her now.
So, that Friday morning, March 7, Beth was telling of her "vision" and visit from Uncle Rhette. Karen had to leave. She had a busy day planned. Beth and I were off to the DMV for her driving test. When we got there, it was quite crowded. It seems that everyone out of school showed up to get a license or permit. We waited hours. We talked about Uncle Rhette and I cried. I wondered why he had to go. I really missed him. He had grown to feel like my child. He was totally dependent on me. Beth said, "Mama, you are tormenting yourself. People die. You will never know why. You live in a place of questions. You go on to a land of answers." Actually, this was not unusual conversation for Beth. She was always really deep and made observations beyond her experience and chrono logical age.
Finally, a DMV test officer came out and said, "I have time for only one more test. If this young man goes out on the road, there will be no time for another test. You can stick around a few minutes just in case his car doesn't pass inspection or something."
Beth said, "Well, we might as well stay just to see." I agreed. The boy went out, got into his car, and immediately backed into a car that was driving through the lot. The test officer came back in, sent a highway patrol to the parking lot, and said, "I can take you for a drive. Let me get the paperwork."
Beth was in shock. She said, "That is so odd. I wonder if anyone ever got killed the same day they got their license." I told her that given the odds, probably very few had died the same day they got licensed, but that it had happened somewhere, I was sure.
Beth got her license without a hitch. Perfect score, they said. Her driver's license photo was good! Unlike mine where I appear as a serial killer. She was so very happy. I was thrilled for her. It was a big privilege. Beth was only fifteen.
When we arrived home, Beth's dad was there waiting to take her home with him for the weekend. He had bought her a little silver sports car. She waved to Jessica and me as she drove off... smiling and excited to be driving for REAL.
Beth said, "I love you."
We never saw her alive again. A freak accident two hours later cost
Beth - my beautiful first born daughter - her life. It was instant. No hope. No chance of survival given the multiple injuries. As dead as she was alive the day before. My hopes, my dreams, dashed in a second. Jessica sisterless, devastated, and irreparably damaged. Me - a mess... a total mess. I still don't know how I survived.
Twenty one years later, I am finally writing about it. I never could before. It was way too painful.
But today, I turned the page. My experience has come full circle.
Jessica watched her daughter Keeley drive away today and then MY daughter went into her house and suffered a mini-breakdown, because the 1986 memory of her only sister flooded her mind causing her to relive the last moment she saw Beth alive.
Jessica called and was hysterical. I understood. I was controlling my hysteria - but barely.
Keeley arrived safely at my house. She picked up burgers for supper. She had a headache, she said, took a Tylenol and went to bed early.
I whispered a prayer of thanks that she can FEEL... that she is indeed ALIVE. That Keeley survived her first day of being a licensed driver.
Well, just like with Jessica, and her first day of driving, and my mini breakdown then... I take one day at a time... still fearing the worst... still hoping for the best...
I hold onto the hope that I NEVER have to outlive another one of my children or grandchildren.
Jo :)
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(((hugs)))
and it had not occurred to me... I AM still grieving for my lost loved ones...
this is a lifetime job, huh?
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Jo
You and your family are in my prayers.
And how bout all those conversations that day?! Strange.
Your family is in my thoughts and prayers.
Grieving and missing loved ones truly is a lifetime job.
The only comfort I get is knowing that one day I will be with them again.