On Death and Dying: Part 1

The angels are always near to those who are grieving, to whisper to them that their loved ones are safe in the hand of God. ~Quoted in The Angels' Little Instruction Book by Eileen Elias Freeman, 1994

Two life-altering deaths have occurred in the last two weeks. Not as life-altering for me as for the relatives of these two families. Neither family has met each other, as they live in different states, and the only connection they possess to one another is that I know both of them. I grieve for them and my grief inevitably turns inward and I grieve for my father.

This all started back on Dec 14, 1996, two months and three days after the loss of my father to colon cancer. My friends C and R and I had planned on taking dates to the Senior Ball that Saturday night at our tiny high school. But first I had to drive to SLC to take my ACT test early Sat morning. I stopped on the way home at the mall to look for a pair of dress shoes and considered calling my friend R from a pay phone (obviously these were pre-cell phone days) but decided against it. So I hurried home instead to get ready for the dance. Upon arriving home, my older sister gave me the grave news that R had been in a car accident and been Life Flighted to a hospital in SLC. My naive 17-year old brain didn't really understand the implications of the seriousness of Life Flight. I think I tried calling C, but she wasn't at home. Then my friend J called and we decided to meet so we could drive to the hospital together. On my way to meet her, I spotted a tow truck ahead of me with a car that looked like R's. What is it about people that want to see the morbid details of car accidents? I sped and sped until I caught up to that tow truck and realized that it was, in fact, R's Mitsubishi Montero. The car was totaled. I remember driving behind it and thinking "My God, how lucky she was to have survived such a terrible crash. Thank you for being with her, Lord." Little did I know I was wrong; she would not survive. I met my friend J and her little sister C to drive to SLC. Not much was said on the 45 minute car ride to the hospital; I think we were all in shock. Again, my naive brain thought that we'd get to the hospital and she'd be sitting up in her hospital bed eating Jell-O and watching snowboarding on TV with a bandage on her head and I'd sarcastically tease her for making us miss the big dance. This is not what happened at all. Two of her other friends were in the waiting room as well. They told us she was brain dead. Just like that. But she was still alive. My friends and I went out to the lobby to make phone calls. I tried to call my best friend G and my mom to tell them the situation. I tried G at our work, but she hadn't arrived yet so I gave the payphone number to our boss to have her call me. While I was on the phone with my mom, someone came out to tell us that R had passed away. I don't remember doing a lot of thinking after that, other than telling my mom that she had just died and sobbing, sobbing, sobbing. Just then, the payphone # that I gave my boss started ringing. My initial plan was that I was going to be telling G that R had been in a car accident and she was in critical condition in the hospital. But that plan had been changed because she passed away in that time between phone calls. I still regret G answering the phone and all I could put into words was "R's dead. R's dead." over and over and sobbing. I never got to see R that day or any day after that. I was not there when they sealed her coffin so sometimes I can believe that she's not really in there since I didn't see her. R came in the night before she died to the pizza place where I worked and we talked about the Ball and the plans for the next day.

I still think about R often even after thirteen and a half years, but mostly I think of her family and wonder how they are doing. I think after having kids yourself, it really puts it into perspective what losing your own child might do to your life and your faith. I would still send R's parents Christmas cards, but every year wondered if I should continue doing this or if it made them too sad and was a constant reminder of what they had lost. I saw R's mother once a couple of years ago at the local grocery store and talked to her for a bit about her sons and my son. She seemed so sad but so full of hope and love at the same time. I admired that woman deeply and she was very strong to have lost her only daughter at such a young age.

Last Monday C texted me and asked if I'd heard about R's mom. I hadn't and she informed me that she passed away Sunday Sept 12 from a heart attack. My first thought was that she was at peace with her daughter now. Last Wednesday was the funeral and it is probably one of the best funerals I've been to, if you can say that you've been to a good funeral. Their beloved daughter R was mentioned often as was their surely joyous reunion. It puts a smile on my face through my tears to think that they are together again. Rejoicing. Rejoicing.