Death Hits again !!
In my twenty-four years of life, I have encountered death three times. My first encounter was with my precious cat Kado. She was Siamese and adored me. I still can't understand why she loved me the way she did, as I dressed her up in baby doll clothes, put her in my doll high chair, and even tried to take a bath with her (to give you a better idea of the torture she endured). I was like the dentist's niece in the movie Finding Nemo, the girl every fish dreaded. Oddly enough, I was her favorite. She would put me to sleep every night by massaging my head until I fell asleep. When my mom would come in to kiss me goodnight, Kado would hiss and paw at her. This cat was my best friend. Unfortunately, the older I got the older she got as well. I was in Arizona for the summer visiting my dad when I got the phone call from my mom. Her voice was shaking as she had to break the news to me. Kado had gotten terribly sick and wasn't going to make it. Bursting into tears, my heart ached with grief for the first time. I didn't understand why she died the way she did and why I wasn't able to say goodbye. These were unanswered questions that would arise each time death came into my life.
A couple years down the road, death would visit me once again. My grandpa passed away. I was not super close him. For the last 5 years or so of his life he was diagnosed with Alzheimer's and couldn't remember my name. When I received the news that his life was taken, I again was hit with heartache a little deeper than the first time. I remember speaking at his funeral. I was able to keep my composure but my heart hurt.
The third time death hit was the most impact full, as this time it was my older brother Craig. My relationship with Craig was filled with ups and downs, as every brother sister relationship is. I completed my duties as his annoying little sister well by following him everywhere, reading his conversations when he wasn't looking, stealing his music, mocking him, and of course by telling on him to gain favor. Little did he know these actions were done from admiration, a desire to be just like him. He did and still does have great influence in my life.
He was an incredible brother, sometimes harsher on me than I think he needed to be, but I know it was only out of his duty as an older brother and out of love. I am incredibly grateful for all the memories I had with him. He was crazy and unique. He taught me how to drive. He got me to love country music. He taught me how to be goofy and confident in who Christ has made me to be. He taught me to trust the Lord as he lived a life dependent on Christ. He taught me to fear no one but the Lord, to live each day as if it was my last, and to be honest always.
This time death hit unexpectedly. I will never forget the day I received a text from one of Craig's best friends, anxiously requesting my dads phone number. Unsure of why, I casually tried to make conversation. He then proceeds to tell me that my brother has gotten into a car accident and that I needed to get ahold of my dad. I frantically call him and my mom and make my way home. That night was an emotional roller coaster. The phone calls started with hope as the depth of his injuries were unclear. Each phone call my dad received intensified our anxiousness and worry as Craig's injuries became life threatening.
Each time my dad would answer his phone he would get off sobbing and filled with tears. This was one of hardest parts for me, first because it meant the news he received was bad, and second, he was my dad; seeing him in pain was heartbreaking.
We couldn't stand not being next to Craig. He needed us by his bed. We decided to drive to Durango since it was only eight hours away. We frantically gather a change of clothes and our toothbrushes and race to Durango. Entering into Payson, we received news that Craig was now being flown to Denver, as his injuries were complicated and in urgent need of specialists. Our attempts to get closer to him had failed. We then returned back to our home yet again. We couldn't get home fast enough despite our attempt. We were in urgent need of a time machine. It was imperative for us to purchase tickets to Denver as soon as possible. We arrived home safely, booked our tickets, and attempted to get some sleep before our flight.
Flying seemed endless. We turn on our phones as soon as we land in time to get the most urgent call–Craig had just coded blue and they weren't sure how much time he had. It seemed that as we tried getting closer to him, the worse it got. We rushed through the airport, tears pouring down suddenly as despair tried to set in. No mode of transportation could get us there quick enough.
We walk into the hospital, greeted by our family and friends who had been awaiting our arrival. I was unable to go into his room right away. My cousin Mariah then held me in her arms, as I was unable to keep my composure. I was finally able to go into Craig's room. He was hooked up to many machines with a breathing tube in his nose and his body was incredibly swollen from all the fluid. This was not my brother. It looked nothing like him, and he was unconscience. This couldn't possibly be my brother. This couldn't possibly be happening right now. As Craig was struggling and fighting to stay alive, there came a point that all of us had to let him go. I remember my mom telling me, "Amie you have to let him go." I fought this as hard as I possibly could. No I can't let him go. Are you crazy? I'm not ready for this one bit. This can't be his time–no way. I don't know how or what changed, but I couldn't continue seeing my brother fight this hard and for him to be in pain. It was the only thing I could do at this point. I went into his room a second time with my cousin Cassie, and it was just the two of us. I thanked him for being such an amazing brother, for his laughter and love. I prayed and then let him go. I left the room, called my best friend Lindsay, and cried harder than I had ever cried. I remember sliding down the wall and sitting on the floor just an emotional wreck. I couldn't believe this was actually happening. I had never felt this intense pain before.
This is not the last time I have tasted death, most recently my dear friend Vanessa's dad passed away. A man who was filled with laughter and gifts. I know that death will always be a matter of life here on earth, it has not lost its sting in our hearts and each encounter hurts.
Thankfully our lives here on earth are short, and our true home, heaven, is a promise of everlasting life, pain free, tearless, the home I eagerly await. As that time has not yet come, hope is what keeps me alive and living for something greater. No matter what pain experienced on earth it is worth it to meet our creator, the comforter, the protector, and fighter of my soul.
