It's been 10 years.
Over the last decade there have been countless moments where I believed the vividness of October 13th, 2007 would never fade.
Because I have adopted children who have lived through trauma, I understand now that what I was experiencing in all of those blindsiding moments was something that had a name. Those moments were called trauma triggers. In less than a second my mind, heart, and emotions would be taken directly back to your crash site. I can still see it all now: Melodie checking your pulse, dust in the air, the overturned car, the Priesthood blessing, the people calling 9-1-1, Mitch and the carseat he pulled from the back window, my dad and the other man taking turns with CPR/chest compressions, my cousin Marnie saying, "I think that's my neighbor," the shocked and crying bystanders, and (most heart wrenching for me) your baby with his wide eyes and cute PJ's, the painfully long amount of time for paramedics to get there, the chill in the the wind as it blew the tall mountain grass, the sound of the LifeVac, and more.
What's interesting is that over time the things that used to trigger flashbacks have faded in a way. I don't know if I've taught myself how to block the memory because it's too painful or if time really does have a way of healing all wounds like they say. I've noticed that certain milestone years are harder for me to deal with when your son and my son reach their own big life events (since our baby's are almost exactly the same age). The one thing I haven't forgotten is the way your baby looked that day. I hope I actually never forget his face.
He's growing up now, Azure.
But I know you know that. Whenever I have seen him, he has been doing great! Brian and Ginger are amazing parents and they teach him and all their children all the right things.
I used to bawl every time I saw the decorative burp cloth my mom and I had used to wipe the dirt out of his eyelashes. It's yellow with tye-died frogs; we put water on the corner of it but Eric kept shaking his head so we stopped trying to get the dirt away. He had been through a lot and he just met us, so if he wanted us to leave the dirt alone we would. All there was left to do was hold him and cry for him and for you. I still have the cloth at my house, but now I don't cry when I see it anymore. Maybe that's because I know he's growing up beautifully and because now I know he's okay.
The day you died and in subsequent weeks I felt guilty that we couldn't save you. I felt this deep internal need to apologize to your family. We did everything we possibly could. Even after you were flown to the hospital and even after watching the paramedics have difficulty getting you to respond with the heartbeat machine, I still prayed and even believed that you could and would recover. I sort of imagined maybe we would meet you once and you'd be able to go on with living the rest of your life. But instead, God had another plan. Even with that other plan, sometimes I still feel guilty.
I have wondered if I was one of the reasons God wouldn't let you stay. Did you have to die because I needed to learn something from you?
Sometimes I wonder that because I feel like it's unusual and strange that even tho I never knew you in your lifetime, I feel now that you're one of my best and closest friends. Unless others have been thru a similar experience that kind of a statement might creep people out, but it is what it is.
There have been so many times over the last 10 years where I believed YOU helped me, but especially this last year I have recognized you often.
Last year on Oct 13th, my daughters came to my house for their first over-night stay. That day was actually a really hard day and I was up almost all night trying to comfort my littlest girl in the confusion, anger, anxiety, sadness, and stress of her massive life disruption. But overall I didn't think the date itself was a coincidence. I felt that it was a message from you to me that when I prayed for angels to help my adopted children find their way to our home that you were one of many on the path who helped answer that prayer.
It might sound funny, but earlier this year I did a visualization exercise that involved colors and when my stressors were gone, my remaining "happy colors" were blue and yellow (but not just any blue and yellow, specifically the color of the morning sky blue and the pale yellow of the sun at that time of day). Later I was searching to find the accurate name of that particular blue--when I realized it was called Azure, it felt like anything but a coincidence and it comforted me to know you were in it.
There have been some tragedies within my circles this year. When a friend in my old ward died I found it unusual that I had been specifically in contact with your family that day and I couldn't stop thinking about the things that have happened to me in knowing you and your family. I felt like you helped my friend and also helped me help my friends during that time.
A couple months ago my uncle, aunt, and cousins were in a terrible car crash. The kids were totally fine. That was the first sign that made me believe you were helping them. I feel like saving the children in a miraculous way is your signature mark of involvement. That's what happened when you died and your son was unscathed. That's what happened in the car accident of my aunt and uncle who you knew in your lifetime and their grandkids. My uncle is in Heaven with you now, too, but when he was in critical condition and I showed up to the hospital, I found it so unusual that not only was he located at a hospital hardly anyone I know tends to ever go to, but my aunt was located ON THE EXACT FLOOR that your mother worked on, and that despite my crazy family day traveling, that I walked around the corner at exactly the same time your mom did and that she was there to give ME a hug. The "coincidental" nature, the exact timings, the personal correlations between circumstances...it just seemed like everything was orchestrated perfectly. I just thought, "Who else do I know in Heaven who cares and is aware of Donna's schedule and MY schedule and would be able to coordinate the two precisely?" It just wasn't a coincidence to me and I want to thank you for being there for my aunt and uncle and cousins and me and I'm sure many others from your hometown circles during that difficult time.
At my cousin, Danny's graveside service, I was on my way to leave but wanted to find your grave, too. I did, and was happy to see your family was there--your mom, Dad, and sister. I gave them hugs and felt love from them and a hello from you.
And one last memory, a little over a year ago, I sent your son a birthday present. The particular deal on the Lego set, the particular stop in your tracks moment walking by it, the way his name popped into my mind, the way it connected me to him and Ginger that week as we talked back and forth...it seemed to me like you were in it with us. I feel like it was your birthday present to him, too.
So Azure, I know you're there. I see you in miracles and involved with God's timing.
You're doing so much good and I believe you're doing more for all of us who care about you than we can truly know. I'm not even your family member, but I feel a steadiness from you that has taught me to believe more than ever in life after death. If you've done this for me as a mere acquaintance from your lifetime, I can only imagine the miracles and blessings and assistance you've been orchestrating for your family and for your little boy.
Anyway, I want you to know that I care about you and your family. I am grateful for them. We have become connected together thru the pain of losing you and also in the hope of seeing you again. I hope that my association in their lives is not a trauma trigger for them simply because the day I met you was the day you died. Because of that fact I feel like an imposter in your family's life who has no right to feel so close to you, but they have been so kind and have allowed me and my family to feel part of them. The Biglers and Starkes have such big hearts. Sometimes there is no easy way around sad life events and the way they can affect any of us.
You're probably busy so I'll let you go, but thanks for letting me be connected to you. I still don't understand why you had to go 10 years ago. I think this day and the weeks leading up to it each year will always feel heavy to me, but there is beauty that has come from the sadness along with an internal calm and reassurance that you're still there--that you're still looking out for people you love in very specific ways to show them you care. It gives me a true hope and belief that life after death exists. Because of that I believe it's true that someday I really will get to see you again and I look forward to giving you a hug and being able to thank you in person for becoming my friend and for being there for me and my family in a way no one else could be.
Love,
D-Jo
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