Having a down day

I woke up kinda sad today. I dreamed about Amanda last night. She was about 4 in my dream with that pretty blonde hair, straight on the outside layer and wavy underneath. I was trying to work with her on her letters and sounds, short "e" specifically, and was trying to get her to tell me a word with that sound. I gave her examples of bed, Ted, led, fed, said, and then I pointed to my hair and said, "What's that?" She said, "hair??" I said does hair have the "e" sound? No....then what is this, the whole thing? She said, "Oh, head!" Yes, now can you give me another one? "No, you said them all."  She just wanted to play Barbies and dress-up. I felt so peaceful and content being with her and didn't want to wake up to the reality that she's gone.

The vital records office called today. Apparently they are just now getting around to doing the death certificate that we need that says, "Pending" on it so it won't be ready tomorrow but likely Monday. We were supposed to pick it up tomorrow and take it to the hospital to get her records to take to the detective. Another delay.

My undoing, though, today was hearing on a commercial the song, "You Are So Beautiful."  I used to sing that to her sometimes and I sang it to her on the 11th and 12th before they disconnected her machines.  I miss her so much it's unbearable.



Everywhere a memory

Tim and I went to Pizza Hut earlier on our lunch break and I kept seeing Amanda and I there just a few months ago, and she took a picture of me and posted it saying something about her pretty lunch date.

Earlier we heard from the detective. This boy, Cody, initially had come in with Ryan and Ericka to give their statements had originally said that he rode up on his bike and saw Amanda sitting in her car at 5 o'clock on the 10th, and it looked like she was shooting up. The detective talked to him again today:

 I actually interviewed Cody (Coon's boyfriend) this morning and just returned from taking him home. I told me the original story he told me was fabricated and Ryan had told him to tell me that story. He said he was intimidated by Ryan so he told me that story to make Ryan happy. He told me that Ryan told him he had given Amanda two "bumps" of heroin that night and that he had deleted all the messages between them in both phones so the cops would not see them talking about drugs. He told Cody the cops are trying to make it look like him and Amanda had an altercation and trying to charge him with some bogus stuff. He also told me he knows Amanda has given Ryan several rides to Dallas to get heroin. The interview went well and I gained a lot of information that further strengthens what you have told me about the drug activity going on. I didn't get anything from him that gives me a home run but I think some of his information will be useful and help by adding to what we already have.

We were relieved to hear he recanted and why, but we need more. The detective later asked us if we could go by the hospital to get her medical records, which we did, but we can't get those without her death certificate. We called the funeral home, and the soonest they can get a death certificate, even if it says the cause of death is pending, will be Friday. The detective CAN get them, but will need a warrant. I told the detective which ever way is fastest is fine.

Tim went by the "Tag Office" (the Okie version of a DMV) to see about getting Amanda's car switched over to our name, and again, we can't do anything without the death certificate.

I know these are necessary things to do, but all are such painful reminders that she is gone.  Tim shared with me a photo he found on his iPad yesterday that had him come undone. He had told me about it last evening that it looks like she is looking right at you. I miss that face. Those eyes. That smile. I wouldn't even care if she cussed me out. Again and again we just ask why...why did she go over there? Why, after we had poured our hearts out to her and poured our love into her, did she not just listen to our hearts when we asked her not to go, to stay away from those people. And I still despise the fact that I brought her here. I feel like I, myself, killed my baby by bringing her here. And I know that's not the truth, but it's hard to tell an aching heart that wants nothing more than to hold her child and see her sweet face. I want to leave this place, this place that represents death to me, but I know we still have work to do, God hasn't called us away yet. One foot in front of the other is for God alone as I certainly don't want to. His strength, not mine. I love you, Lord, and I wish you'd hurry to come back so I can be reunited with my baby again.

Missing my girl

Life is progressing on all around me. I go through the motions and occasionally engage, depending on who and what it is. Tim and I have our 15-year anniversary coming up on the 6th. Mom is still loopy, saying weird things, griping when she's awake, talking in her sleep at night and basically sleeping through her day. 

I'm reading the book, Choosing to SEE, by Mary Beth Chapman and I appreciate her candor and humor, her humanity. There is the section of the book after Maria died and it was as if I was reading my thoughts, feelings, and actions. I'm reading this and realizing that while our experiences are unique, the shock, the feeling out-of-body, and operating on autopilot, somehow making decisions that you never want to make, and consoling those who should be consoling you are, it seems, part of the initiation ritual to the "club" none of us want to be in. I know she's gone. She's gone. And I am still so unbelievably sad that I will never get to hold my baby's hand again or run my fingers through her hair. I know she's alive with Jesus and while that does give me comfort, I selfishly still want her here with me. It reminds me of when she was first born and she had gone home from the hospital with the couple who were initially going to adopt her and the mourning I felt for having given up my baby. The thoughts were tormenting me of, What is she doing now? Is she cold? Is she hungry? I should be holding her, rocking her, changing her diapers, cuddling her, singing to her, walking the floors with her all night if need be. I wanted to be the one to kiss boo-boos and wipe tears, take to doctors, watch her grow and walk and say her first words. I wanted to be the one to watch her graduate high school and then college. I wanted to be the one to help her pick out prom dresses and cry with her over broken hearts. I wanted to be the one. And as my dad and I got her back, those things, those wants never changed. I never forgot about the things I would have missed out on and didn't take it for granted that I was given the opportunity to be that for her and do those things with/for her. And I still want them, but now I won't get that chance because she's alive in heaven and I'm left here to wait anxiously for our reunion.

And there's still work to be done here. There are still kids here who are hurting, who need to be loved and accepted. Who need to know they are enough. Who need to be introduced to the person of Jesus Christ. In honor of Amanda and the gift I was given in being her mom, I am choosing each day to love. I am looking for those youth with the sad eyes, the ones who feel "less than" and I will love them. I will let them know they at least have me in their corner. I don't know what that will look like, but there is so much brokenness. So many kids that are hurting and who knows what ripple effects there might be by being a light and love to "the least of these."  

I miss my baby girl so very much and the ache in my heart will never go away, but until I can hold my own child in my arms again and never have to be separated again, I will do as God has called me to do, and I will take another step in faith as God lights my way.

Out of Control

Not much going on. I've been getting frustrated easily and I guess my grief is manifesting in mini-hissy fits. I snap at my husband sometimes and then have to apologize as it's not him I'm angry at. I don't know who to be angry at. I feel so out of control and I hate that. I guess "feeling in control" is actually the falacy as we are never truly in control.

I had emailed the detective today just checking in. He had previously put in a call to the ME but never got a call back so placed a call today to the actual ME who did her autopsy. She said the toxicology results weren't back yet but she was going to call and have them check for methanol and/or ethylene glycol. He also had gotten the surveillance video from Walmart and he said he could clearly see Amanda and Ericka on the video. Maybe, if anything it can help prove or disprove one of the stories told by Ryan. At least it does give a time-frame that she was there. I miss her so much and it all just seems such a shame. I want to find out the truth. I pray that God will allow it to be revealed and that, if applicable, justice be served.

I kept thinking today about how she was found in a basically empty spare bedroom just sleeping on a little pallet on the floor with a blanket. It just makes me want to cry. My heart just wants to have been able to hold her, to have made her not go. The mom in me agonizes over the questions...was she aware of what was happening to her? Did she cry out for us? Was she scared? Did she struggle?Or did she just go to sleep? God, please tell my baby her Mama loves her to the moon and back. I guess by now she knows that nothing she could ever do would make you stop loving her, stop pursuing her, or welcome her into the Kingdom of Heaven because of her decision to accept Christ. All of that brings me comfort, but it doesn't stop my heart from missing her, from the ache that is always there. I want to hold her hand so much. I want to hear her laugh and sing and not just on a video.

I have a book I'm about to start by Mary Beth Chapman, "Choosing to See."  It's about her journey after they lost their little girl, Maria. A friend back home recommended it to me, so I bought it.

One of the I guess stupid things I've been doing since Der died is painting my fingernails regularly. She was always wanting us to go have a mommy-daughter day of having our nails done and I always said it was a waste of money since she always picked off her polish or took off her acrylic nails within a week. How I wish I would have just seized those opportunities and just spent the money just to have those precious times with her. So now I paint my nails for her. Stupid I guess, but I guess I just want to show her how sorry I am for being so shortsighted and not doing this one little thing that you wanted to do with me. I'm sorry, baby, for every single missed opportunity. I would trade every single dollar I "saved" to have those moments with you. What's money when you don't have your family with you? I miss her so, so much. It's still so hard to believe I can't just call or text her or go see her. I won't see her drive up in "Clifford the Little Red Car."  I won't see her throw her head back in that big laugh of hers. Stupid drugs. Stupid, stupid drugs. She was a hurting young lady, misunderstood, angry, and depressed and did what many do, searched for a way to ease the pain. Mommy loves you Sugarbear. I'm so sorry you hurt so much. You deserved so much more and I was so looking forward to helping you get there. Save a seat for me, Daddy, and Michael.

Overwhelmed :(

I'm just overwhelmed. I need some peace. I need to have quiet when I need quiet. I miss my girl and I need to be able to work through that at my pace in my way.

Living at Dad's is...anything but peaceful. I love my dad. They bicker so stinking much!!!  And then, mom is mostly deaf and dad is partly deaf so all conversation is louder than it could be and having a peaceful evening is just a fantasy. He is impatient with her. She is stubborn and the dementia makes things challenging on top of her Parkinson's. She doesn't remember diddly and he gets tired of repeating things. My nerves are shot. I want our own space. We are relegated to a 10 x 10 space that is "ours," but we hear the TV blasting through the walls and, when she is talking in her sleep or whatever, we hear it. The cats are in the room with us, and that isn't enough room for them, either. So all night we either hear Mom talking, the cats fighting, or one of them using the litter box. I just miss having our down time on a couch, watching what we want to watch, or coming and going as we feel like without having to worry about being home. I know this comes with the territory of being here to take care of my folks. I just wish we had our own retreat; at this point, I wouldn't care if it was a mobile home, a travel trailer, a CARDBOARD BOX, a storage shed, or one of those "tiny houses" I've seen on TV. I know I'm whining. I'm inundated with noise all the time, real or in my head. I go to work and there is stress there and I come home and dread walking in the door. I feel stuck. I want to be here to help my dad, I do, I just wish Tim and I had our own place to retreat to at night and for the cats to have their own home without fear from another cat or worrying about the dumb dog.  Anywho, I'm done whining for now. 

We went today to help a family whose trailer had caught on fire and they lost most everything. Their kids wanted them to live in this dumpy, piece of crap trailer that was behind the burned one. The property looks like an episode of hoarders. The trailer had holes in the floor, rotting flooring, a sagging ceiling, wasp nests and a bird nest inside of the trailer, windows that didn't fit so there are gaps between the window and the wall. The place was a disaster and I just couldn't get over that THIS was where their kids wanted them to live??? And where were THEY in the clean-up process? Nowhere.  Makes you thankful for what you do have, and what you don't.

Bad day

I'm having a hard time caring, or wanting to eat, or dealing with all of the stupid have-to's of life. I don't want to get out of bed. I don't care if I shower or go to work. My patience is nil. My stepmom is driving me absolutely crazy and I know she can't help it. She complains about everything, thinks everything needs to be like Burger King so she can have it her way, is constantly freezing while the rest of us are sweating and is forever wanting the furnace "bumped up a notch." Tim and I had to sleep with the window open last night and our door closed because it's so hot it's hard to sleep. I know I'm picking at things that I can because I can't control the one thing I want to, the hurt I feel with Amanda being gone. I don't want to be here stuck in this little dinky house listening to my parents bicker and cramped up in a 10 x 10 bedroom. But I don't want to waste the gas to drive to "town," either. I'm angry and restless and I want answers. I want the detective to at least email me or call me even if it's to say he has no new information for me. 

Why did you go over there, Amanda?? Why didn't you just listen to my heart when I asked you to please not go? We always wanted what was best for you and knew that a lot of times you were your own worst enemy. I'm overwhelmed with grief. I feel so small and void. I know someday I will be able to focus on her life more than her death, but that day is not today. Today has been a down day. Yesterday at work was a little better. I think I'm fighting off getting sick, too, and I'm sure it's due to the stress, grief, and fatigue. I was supposed to go get my hair done today but it's just another one of those things that I just don't care enough to do it. I think I want to want to more than I actually want to. I know people are probably like, "God, she's so depressed all the time now." and who wants to talk to someone like me? There's enough crap in the world, in life, so why add to it by listening to me? I don't even really want to talk to anyone. No one but someone who has experienced it really would understand anyway. I know their intentions are good. I know they care, and that's enough, but I can't really let people in to see my heart or I will crumble. I think that's why people assume I'm being so "strong," is I just can't let people see my real hurt, it's too overwhelming. And so I write this stupid blog to attempt to express the depth of my pain, but really there are no words adequate. My baby is gone. My present and future plans with her are gone and I have to wait til Jesus calls me home to see her again and how I wish I didn't have to wait, yet I wouldn't want to leave Tim or Michael behind, either, so I attempt to take another step in the dark, walking in faith that God IS beside me holding my hand, asking me to trust him in the void. I do trust you, Lord. It's all I have.

I'm not strong

People keep telling me I'm being so strong. No, I'm really, really not. I don't even know what that's supposed to look like, or what that really means to them. I try, sometimes unsuccessfully, to not have a complete breakdown when I'm out in public. Tim sees me cry, he knows my heart, the things that trip me up. We saw something the other day and it was talking about a drug overdose and it's like a stab in the heart. Tonight daddy had flipped channels and had stopped on Million Dollar Baby. I've never seen it so we were both watching it. Then it happened. One of the characters is in the hospital on life support, and Clint Eastwood disconnects the respirator. I had to leave the room. Too close to home. Too soon. 

I made a list of questions while I was at work, at the end of my day, that I wanted the detective to ask the medical examiner in OKC. I had placed a call in to him earlier in the day but never heard back. Finally, I just emailed the questions to him. Also, this morning I called the funeral home to see about her death certificate, but I had already suspected, that they didn't have them in yet as her cause of death is still pending. I guess realistically it could still be months. 

Nothing else new to say. I just miss my baby girl. We didn't always have the best relationship, and I do regret that, but I know that Amanda knew she was loved and that she knew if she were ever in trouble or in a situation she felt uneasy about or whatever, that she could call and I'd be there, the same with Tim. I hope and pray that those people haven't disappeared off the radar since getting to CA and that God will allow the truth to come out, whatever that may be. I just need to know how and why my baby died. I guess I'll update more when I hear something from the detective. 

One month

I can't even explain what today was like other than all throughout the day I was comparing. At 8:30 when I woke up, I was thinking just a month ago at 8:30 I had been at work and had my headache so had taken some medicine. When 9:30 came, I thought about the phone call I got that made time stand still. All of those feelings, the panic, the way my brain couldn't process simple things came welling back. I remember trying to get into the ER but that in my panic, I went in the wrong door and had to backtrack and go to the correct door and chiding myself for the mistake because I needed to hurry and get to her. That's all I wanted to do was get to her, like the sooner I got to her, the sooner I could somehow save her. All of today, where was I at this time last month? What were we saying to her? What was being done for her? Could she hear us? Could she see us? 

We ran into town for some errands. We tried the new IHOP and all I could think about was that Amanda should be working there. It was a beautiful day, clear skies, nice breeze but it never matters what is going on or where I'm at, if I'm laughing at something or crying, there is always this hole, always a void, always pain just behind the veil. I feel hollow. My greatest joy, my life mission, as it were, to be the best wife and mom to my kids and now one of my children is living in Heaven and I am in a tailspin. I feel so lost. I still love spending time with Tim and wish I could be with Michael. Part of me, a big part of me, resents even being here still, in OK. I'm mad at myself for having us come at all. Amanda didn't want to be here. I made everyone come. Tim doesn't feel that way. He feels that God opened the door for us to be here and, of course, we didn't want to leave Amanda behind, we wanted her with us, so we brought her. My guilt doesn't let me leave it at that. If I hadn't made us come, she wouldn't have met those people, wouldn't have tried the things she did, and potentially would still be alive. We could have gotten her in at Alexander Paul Institute of Hair Design if we would have just stayed. I know Dad needs us and I am glad to help him, I just wish he could have come there, back to NC. I guess it's selfish. And I know that if she wanted to try the different drugs or whatever, she would have found a way. I just remember her saying this place was going to kill her, that there was too much drugs here, too many people pulling her down. What we intended for a fresh start for her ended up being the end of her here. My guilt drowns me, screams in my ear that it's all my fault that my baby is gone. One month today. At 7:39 my heart felt like it was shattering. We were watching a movie but I kept looking at my watch. I know she was truly gone before the doctor pronounced her brain dead, but that's the time they gave us and it cuts.

While we were in town we went to our storage facility. That was the first time I'd seen it since Tim and Sam had taken everything from Amanda's apartment. I saw her hamper with her dirty clothes still in it and I broke down. Just a month ago she had worn those clothes. She was here. She was alive. I could hold her and touch her and talk to her and hear her laugh and sing. God I miss my baby so much. Each day is such a chore to get through. I just want my baby. I want life back the way it was and then wrestle with my selfishness. I don't want her broken. I know this song is about God, but I always hear the song in my head when I think about missing her, "I just want to be where you are, in your dwelling place forever. Take me to the place where you are. I just want to be with you." 

In some ways I can't believe it's already been a month and in others, every single day feels like an eternity. We just got a check in from insurance that is one of two that we will be getting from when she was in her accident back in August. Yeah, it's nice, but it should have been to pay for her schooling and not to have to worry about bills while she finished school. We had planned on, after she graduated, to move her back to NC if she still wanted to go. That's what the money was supposed to go for. Now we'll have the money and no daughter. We will use some of it to help Michael get his car fixed up totally. We offered him Amanda's car, we would just drive it to him and then fly back, but he likes his. Hers is newer and a lot less miles, but he really likes his car, I guess. 

I was thinking today about how we had to clean out her apartment the Saturday after we got back from NC. Sam helped us, which I was grateful for.  I just remember being so sad that we had to take everything down that her hands had put up. To put things back in storage that she had decided where to put. To take her clothes out of her closet. To see her messy bathroom with her makeup bag on the sink, etc. from whenever she used it last. I was so sad that I'd never get to see it again just like she had it, but more than that, that I'd never get to see her in it again. I'd never get the mommy-daughter nights like we'd planned or get to teach her how to cook. It all just makes me so sad, and I'm so sad for how hard her life had to be with the bipolar. I remember when she had told me that she had tried heroin and I just stopped what I was doing when we were done texting and I just interceded in prayer for her like her life depended on it, and asked others to as well. I knew this was a spiritual battle and not just about the drugs. I don't think I've ever prayed that fervently in my life. I knew she needed me to be doing exactly that at that time.  I remember asking God to intervene on her behalf no matter what it took, and I knew what I was saying, I guess I just assumed that because he could, that he would find a different way. I know he didn't "take" her as that would be saying he caused this. Maybe by allowing her into Heaven when he did, he was actually sparing her a more painful life than she already had.  

I can't look at her temporary urn yet. They give it to you in this sort of velvet bag that covers it. I know it's supposed to have her name engraved on it and something else, but I just can't. I wish Tim could get started on making her urn. I don't know what type of wood it should be, and he was talking about creating a mold thing and casting it out of metal. I have no idea. I was looking today for my Willow Tree figurine that she had bought me several years ago when we were in storage. I know it's got to be in towards the back. I remember when we were staging the house to sell it, we had to pack a lot of personal things up, and that was one of them. I'm thinking that I want her owl urn on a shelf and on one side of it, the Mother-Daughter figurine and on the other the Daddy-Daughter one I just bought Tim. I did find a jewelry/momento Willow Tree box that she had bought me one year for Christmas with the mother and daughter hugging on it. I brought that home with me and inside was a little poem that she had written to me and the last line said, "Sometimes you don't know how much I love you." I love you, too, Sugarbear, to the moon and back, beyond and beyond. I can't wait to "see you in a little while."

1/10/14

Being back has been rough. We've spoken several times to the detective. I still can't believe the people at whose house she was at packed up everything, rented a U-Haul and fled to CA. My mind screams "Guilty!" but I know it's just circumstantial evidence. I want answers and I want truth.

We have had to go pick up her temporary urn. No parent should ever have to do that. With it was the certificate thing that comes with it. It shows when the cremation was done, what time it started and stopped. The thought of the process sickens me. The thought of her having had to have an autopsy and all that entails sickens me. I know it wasn't done to "her," but that body housed the daughter I knew and loved before she was born. I felt that body move inside of me and kick.

Her car is up at the Wesley. I pulled it over to the side of the building as I was going to vacuum it out, but so far it's been too cold and/or rainy to do it. It hurts to see it, but it will hurt not to see it, too, whenever we have to sell it or whatever.

Today has been terrible. A month ago she and I spent that last beautiful day together going to and from Ada. The last time I saw my baby alive. I hurt so much. Working is an absolute chore. Pretty much everything is a chore. I don't want to do anything! It takes me forever to finish a task. My mind is always wandering. Everything makes me cry. I get overwhelmed by simple things. I just want to hold my baby. I want to be with my baby. I want to protect my baby.

Everyone has been really nice and all that since we've been back. I get a lot of offers to talk or at least people saying they are available to talk, but I don't know if I can. I feel like I'm going to be bringing everyone down if I open up. Tim is my safe harbor, the one I can be totally open with. I feel guilty for not having prolonged our day that day...maybe she wouldn't have gone. I feel guilty for wishing, in part, she was still here when she is perfect where she is at, and there is no more brokenness to deal with.

I've had to have some dealings with her father, Kent, and his wife, Janice. I had notified Connie, Kent's mom, the night Amanda died out of courtesy. I felt they had a right to know at least. I've since had a few messages back and forth between Janice and I (not unpleasant ones) and one phone call with Kent. I hadn't spoken to him in 17 years. It pissed me off. NOW they want to be concerned about Amanda? NOW they want to know her more? I finally told them that she reached out to them 2x and both times she was basically told, "we're not ready." It took a lot of courage for her to reach out at all. She already struggled with her identity and naturally wanted to know her biological father and his family to help her know herself better. But NOW??? I told them that I would let them know, if they still wanted, about the investigation into her death and that I'm sure they have some feelings about her death (likely mostly guilt), but that she had parents who loved her and cared for her every single day, that they didn't want to know her when she was alive so why bother now. I've not heard anything since.

Today we got the video in the mail from her service in NC. I wasn't sure I could watch it yet as I've been hyperemotional today. Tomorrow marks a month since she died. Tim and I went in our room and watched it together. Seeing her beautiful face, the songs that we had selected, parts of the slideshow set to the music, and the personal recordings people had done for us was overwhelming. I wept for her, for us, for all she went through, for what we are going through being separated from her now, and for what we lost, future-wise in losing her. I wish I didn't have to wait to see her again. The video was beautiful and well put together. I will cherish it always.

2nd Service

Thursday, December 19, Tim and I got a ride from Dewey to the airport. He had given us buddy pass tickets and we would be on standby, but we got the first flight out to NC, so that was good. We had had to be up at like 3:30 or so and at the Wesley at like 4 or a bit after. I don't remember. Anyway, it was early and I know I hadn't slept much the night before. 

Bob Wynn was picking us up at the airport. He was a site for sore eyes. We talked all the way back to Greenville. When we got there, he took us to Tipsy to see Mike and figure out where we were going to be staying as we had no idea. Even though we'd just seen Mike a few days prior, it was so good just to hug him and hold onto him. Bob and Holly let us use Holly's car while we were in town, and we dropped Bob off at one of his daughter's place of employment. We ended up staying at Ms. Trudy's, which was a true blessing. She had already asked us to please stay there, but we weren't really sure. We didn't want to inconvenience anyone, but she wouldn't hear of us not staying there. Being in her home was like walking into the peace and presence of God. It felt like the biggest, warmest hug. We had our own room on one side of the house where we slept in her granddaughters' two twin beds, but it was cozy and we had our privacy and our own bathroom. 

That first night back in town was overwhelming. It was just too much, too much traffic, too many businesses, too many memories flooding my brain, and being bombarded with the reason we were home. We ate that first night at Fuji's in honor of Amanda.

While we were there, we got to see Brian and Angie, go to church on Sunday which was just so perfect, go to Christmas Eve communion service, have coffee with Will, spend time with Trudy, hang out with Michael, take him shopping, have lunch at Japan Inn with him, go to the movies, etc. We got to spend a few days with Lola, too.  She and I went to the tattoo artist who had done Amanda's tattoo and had Amanda's owl tattoo done, me on my left thigh (same as Amanda's) and Lola on leg but higher up towards the hip. That was painful but I wanted to do it to make Amanda smile. We went to Linda and John's house for Christmas Eve and stayed the night after the service at Covenant and then went to Rob and Christy's on Christmas Day. Amanda never left my mind and it all felt wrong to be anywhere without her.

We had to meet with Bob at Covenant and the rest of the team who was putting together her service. We got to discuss what we wanted, timing of things, etc. We had brought all of the 8x10s and 5x7s in a scrapbook so had to re-buy all new frames which we later donated to the youth for a senior year thing they do. We had to pick out flowers for her service and Charlene Silver had gotten us in touch with a friend of theirs who works at a funeral home to borrow an urn.  The guy from Pip Printing comped our service programs which was such a blessing. Everyone was just really loving and going out of their way to support us. The church had set up a hotel room across town by the hospital if we wanted it, but honestly, we felt so loved and comforted just being at Trudy's, we continued to stay with her.  

Saturday the 21st came. Amanda's friend, Zacc, was staying at a hotel in Greenville, and I told him we would pick him up for the service. We got there at the agreed upon time and he wasn't out front. I tried his phone, no answer. The manager tried his room, no answer. We drove around the hotel, no Zacc. Finally, the manager told Tim what room he was in so we went and pounded on the door, no answer. I finally took my keys and pounded on the glass. He shows up in his underwear and a blanket around him. He'd overslept. We were already late by this time from when we were supposed to be there (not late for the service, though). He ended up just throwing on some clothes and running downstairs. He was so apologetic. We got to the church and there were already lots of people there. People from my old work, Shaun and Heather, people drove up from SC, Kelly and Michael from NJ, just lots and lots of people. We went into the "family room" and talked with everyone in there. It was all very overwhelming. I loved the way we were able to decorate (and Covenant staff) for her service. They had given us a prayer shawl that complimented her borrowed urn and we had draped that around the urn like a big hug. We had put her Baby Bop up next to her urn and picture to represent who she was, a woman child. Everything about the service was outstanding. Rob Hall sang a song that Amanda had loved in House Church. He said when she sang that, it was the first time he'd heard her sing and what a beautiful voice she had; it had blown him away. He and Susan Todd also sang a song by Gungor, Beautiful Things that we had requested. They played a song earlier by Tenth Avenue North, You Are More that I had dedicated to Amanda previously. Ernest Silver had sung an original song for Amanda called Shining Star. The message that Bob gave, we hope Michael really paid attention to, it was how we live in this broken world and bad stuff does happen, but God doesn't cause them to happen, but he was there to welcome Amanda into heaven based on a choice she made previously...that we all make choices every single day, some good, some bad, but that Amanda gets to spend eternity with Christ because of the single best decision she ever made, to accept Christ, and that because of that and our faith in Christ, we have that hope to see her again, that this is not the end. What Satan intended for bad, God intended for good, and Satan thinks he had the last say, but God had the ultimate victory in Amanda's life and in her death here on earth. It was perfect. Even Tim's old drama team from youth wanted to help out, so they served as ushers. That brought tears to Tim's eyes that they loved him so much that they chose to take their time to do that.

The line to see us afterwards stretched on and on. I thought people would leave, get impatient waiting, but no one did. It was amazing the amount of people who came. Even Dianne, Cierra, and GG came. Pastor Branson said he'd invited Dianne to church for 7 years but she never stepped foot in until that day. Everyone was so gracious and loving. It was humbling to see how many people loved us and loved our girl. 

By the time we had to leave to come back home, I was ready to stay. I did not want to leave Michael again and the guilt of leaving him there to grieve without us tore me up. I had guilt of not wanting to go back when I know Dad needed us, and guilt of not staying to be with Michael when I know he needs us. I am thankful that Mike's friends were being super supportive of him, but it's not the same as having mom and dad there.

We had to leave for the airport at 4 a.m. and the mom of two of Tim's drama kids drove us back to Raleigh. She was soooo sweet.  We were split up on the first leg of the flight back, but at least we got on it. It was packed so it was iffy if we would get on. Dewey and Norene picked us up. The whole trip was so very emotional. We were happy to be back home and with our home church and friends but not for that reason. We had initially planned on going back as an anniversary trip but in April or so, so being back in NC for this was not what we wanted, of course.

Anyway, jumping ahead to today, Jan. 9th., it's Tim's 40th birthday. I gave him the Father/Daughter Willow Tree figurine and card that I'd bought him. He cried. I knew he would, but I also knew he'd love it because it represented his bond and relationship with our baby girl. We went to Arby's for lunch. I had quite a big meltdown earlier in the day at work. I just miss her so much and I want justice for her if it's to be had. I want the truth. I hate how hard her life was with the bipolar and never feeling like she was enough. I feel like someone has sucker punched me or reached right into my chest and torn out my heart. I feel like there's just this big gaping hole there since she's gone. I will be glad when the detective working Amanda's case gets back to work next week. 

After work, I took Tim to Tokyo steakhouse and we had supper just the two of us. He had lots of phone calls and texts throughout the day. I'm sure his FB is blown up with messages.  Anyway, I didn't sleep much last night and the emotional roller coaster is taking a toll on me. That's all for tonight.

One Month Ago...

Today was rough. I've been thinking about Tim's 40th birthday tomorrow and how we've been so sad and I felt bad that he doesn't really want to do anything, but I completely understand. Usually the kids blow us off on our birthdays. This year Michael sent Tim a card that he got yesterday that had both of us crying. It was probably the first one that Michael really put his heart into, and it really moved us both. We wish Amanda was still here to blow off Tim's birthday. At least she was here when she did that. We "knew" we'd see her later that day or evening. Anyway, in my musings earlier in the day I realized the date...January 8. Just one month ago is when I took the picture on my phone of Amanda when we were at her apartment. I had been sitting in the recliner and she on the couch near me. We'd been holding hands occasionally and then I asked her to look at me so I could take her picture. She just had this sweet, content, peaceful smile. We had brought Arby's for lunch and had bought a chicken and potato salad and stuff to make spinach dip, which she helped me make, and the big loaf of French bread. I remember she was helping me in the kitchen and we were talking about how I could come over and teach her to cook now that she had her own place. We watched Jingle All the Way on Netflix as we'd never seen it. We all laughed and had a great time just being together. Later we grabbed some of the food and took it and the 2 movies we'd rented and went to the Wesley as the BluRay player was up there. She was laying on my lap on one of the couches. Sam joined us (which Amanda liked as she thought he was cute). I know she took a picture while she laid on my lap but I don't think it turned out well because of the lighting. I got to run my fingers through her hair and just love on her. I miss that so much and am so thankful we had that opportunity. I miss her laugh, her smile, the way she smelled when she got out of the shower. I miss everything. I miss her big heart and I even miss her stubbornness. I always told her if she could channel that stubbornness into something positive, she could go far. 

I was driving down Banty Road today on the way to town listening to the new Steven Curtis Chapman CD I bought yesterday. There's this song that really spoke to how we always tried to help Amanda see herself the way we saw her, the way God saw her, as a masterpiece, priceless, beautiful, but all she saw was her flaws or what she perceived to be flaws. It made me cry. We wanted so much for her to see how precious she is. I know she knows now...I wish she knew then. 

Later when I was in Walmart, as I was leaving, I saw this girl, Leah West, that Amanda had taken she and her mom to Arkansas so that her mom could get a knee surgery. She was who Amanda had been hanging with when my Altima got messed up last year (not the wreck). The back window smashed out, etc. And now that girl just wanted to trash talk Amanda. Also with her was Timmy Dooley, the one Amanda thought might be her roommate at one point. I had this fury well up in me, and I remember thinking, why not them? I was quickly convicted for sitting in judgment of them. They may still have life on earth, but what is earth but broken and twisted. Amanda has eternity in Heaven, and so will we.

One month ago...how drastically life has changed. Still, I have to praise God for allowing us to have those days with her, that precious time pouring into her telling her how much we love her and would do anything to help her, that nothing she could ever, ever do would change that, that she would always be our baby girl. So I will hold onto those precious memories and still raise shaking hands in praise to the One who let me be her mom.

Service #1

Going through storage and getting pictures and then putting pictures in frames was heartwrenching, but lining them all up on the tables at the Wesley and knowing what it was all for...It was devastating to look at them, the laughter, those big, beautiful eyes and her smile, the subtle changes over the years. Tim had bought two digital frames that he uploaded the photos from the slide show on to be played at her service.

I had to buy a top for her service and it just seems unreal...shopping for a top to wear to your child's memorial service?! That isn't right. When I was in Walmart, I just felt like I was in a haze, lost, so small and vulnerable. I didn't want to be shopping for a top to wear for this!!  I would see something, a purse, or a top, or anything that she would like and it would unravel me. I saw her favorite candybar, Hershey's Cookies 'N Cream and I wanted to buy it for her. I saw my friend, Pamela and her mom, and I just went to her and got the biggest hug and had a meltdown. I don't know how to do this. I don't want to have to know how to do this. I remember feeling angry that the rest of the world got to go on but my world had just fallen apart and it was never, ever going to be the same again. I wanted to scream, "Don't you care??? My baby died! Doesn't anyone care? Don't you know??" 

Tim and I had to go pick out flowers for her service at our church in Durant. Small details are so hard. We wanted it to be so pretty. Something she would look down from Heaven and see and smile because she knew we were doing everything to make it special and beautiful just for her.  We picked out a guest book from Hallmark. All of these things, I didn't care what anything cost, it just had to be good for Amanda. It was the last nice thing we could do for her and we were going to do everything we could to honor her and show how much she was cherished.

We didn't really come home to Bennington much. It was too much...to be there and have to deal with Mom and Dad and try to grieve and finalize arrangements, etc. We needed "our" space to just be together, just Tim and I.  We were a complete mess.

I had already mentioned Brown's Funeral Services in another post, but to have to go make arrangements for your child's service, cremation, etc. is unnatural. They were very compassionate and super helpful. Since getting the legal paperwork completed to actually perform the cremation was going to take too long and we'd planned to have her service here in Durant on the 18th and in Greenville, NC, on the 21st, they let us pick out a very pretty urn. It was a pretty blue/turquoise Cloissone style urn with silver birds flying away on it. It was so pretty.

The day of her service (18th - Wednesday), I went to get my hair cut and we had our clothes there at the Wesley. We took the car to the carwash to get all of the mud off from Dad's road so we wouldn't get slimed in our nice clothes when we got out. I remember it was about 80 degrees that day and so pretty out and I thought it was odd...I felt like it should be cold and gray and gloomy like I felt inside. And I remember thinking that Amanda would complain about how hot it was. She hated being hot.

Finally, around 3 or so we went to the church with all of the pictures, etc. Lindy was there and helped us as did Christy Hamilton. We had her little girl pictures lined up in front of the alter on the kneeling pads, her borrowed urn on a pedestal in the center of the stage with a bigger, taller table behind it with a picture of her angled to the side and one of the vases of the flowers we bought on the other side.  It looked so pretty. We had her big "baby head" picture on a standing easle.  On either side of the room in the front of the sanctuary we had tables covered in table cloths with pictures, a photo album, her baptism certificate, etc. for people to browse.  In the back of the sanctuary by the guestbook, we had the other vase of flowers we bought. My friend, Shirley, had sent a basket of mostly white daisies and pink carnations. It was so pretty. We had the digital frames playing as well as other photos scattered on a table where people would enter.  We were pleased with how it looked when we were done and then left to get ready for the service.

I remember it was hard to do my makeup as my hands were shaking and also thinking it was so ludicrous to even worry about makeup at such a time but also thinking that I wanted Amanda to say, "You look so pretty Mama!" I wanted to look pretty for her. If God gave her a window seat in Heaven for that night, I wanted her to be pleased with every detail.

I honestly do not remember much about the service. I know Dewey and John traded off jobs. Dewey did the more personal aspects as he had reached out to Amanda multiple times and we wanted him to be the one to do the service.  There were quite a few people there. My aunts Sheila, Martha Kay, and even Pat were there, along with my Uncle Jack. My parents were in the front with us and Mom kept asking questions and couldn't hear and I was wondering how long that was going to go on and if I would lose it if it did. Everyone from church was so nice. I remember that on FB I had let many, many, many people know when her service was going to be and had spread the word. I was disappointed that out of all of the people that Amanda had helped or tried to help here, only one person that SHE knew had come, and he had had to beg a ride from Denison, Texas, to get there, but it meant that much to him. Alex was only 1 of 2 people who had bothered to come see her in the hospital after her accident and the only one to come to her funeral. I was sad for Amanda, but also touched that it meant that much to him to come.  I know the line of people to come give us hugs was fairly substantial considering the size of the church. I remember people giving us hugs and telling us they love us and I had no idea who they were other than they probably went to our church.  Some were probably from the Sunday school classes as one of them on the Sunday after Amanda passed had us come to the front of the church and they laid hands on us and prayed over us. That was so emotional and powerful how people just wanted to show so much love for us. I remember that day one lady gave me her cross necklace and another one gave me her earrings. They didn't have much to give but wanted to do something to show they cared. Beautiful people.

I don't remember much after the service. I know it all got packed up and we took it back to the Wesley. We gave Amanda's flowers to the church to use as they wished. I think they sent them to a nursing home. The small basket Shirley had sent I brought home to give to Mom.  I remember thinking at some point about how I knew the busyness was holding back the torrent that was coming, but that it would come, and I was worried about me. Holding onto Jesus and Tim. That's all I can do. I'm just holding on trying to keep my head above water. It brings me to my knees just thinking about not seeing my baby girl again here, and I know it's not forever, but this road sure seems long...

The Day After and More

To be honest, this day is a fog. Well, most days since have been a fog. I know at some point we went to Amanda's apartment. Walking in was surreal. There are the cups from Arby's from when we'd picked up lunch for all of us. There are the dishes in the sink from when she and I made the spinach dip together. Her "watermelon blankie" is still on the couch. The apartment smells like her. There are storage tubs that she never had a chance to fully unpack. Tim and I collapse in a heap. I scream and cry. Tim weeps. This isn't real. This can't be real. Why is this happening? Why baby? Why did you go over there?? Whyyyyy...We would have done anything to help you. You always tried to see the best in people and some people just took advantage of your big heart, you desire to help the broken. Tim is sick. He had started feeling sick yesterday while we were at the hospital but it's getting worse. We wander around her apartment just wanting to be where she was, wanting to see the things she loved, wanting to lay on her pillows and hold her Baby Bop. If I could, I would freeze everything in that place just as it was. I don't want this stuff, but it's all I have left of my baby. I want her here. I want to hold her. I want to protect her. God, the hurt is so deep. It sucks the breath out of me. It hurts to move. I don't want to move. I don't want to do anything. I don't want to wake up. I don't want to feel anything. 

Pastor Dewey and another gentleman had gone to pick Michael up from the airport. At some point in the afternoon, they brought him to Amanda's apartment. We rush out to meet him and just hold each other and cry. We go into her apartment together. Michael is just taking in "her space." He is so heartbroken. His little sister. The one he would do all sorts of goofy antics for just to get her to laugh. He was the one person who could tell things to her straight and she would listen to him, usually without cussing him out :)  She idolized him. She missed him so much. She always talked about how much she wanted to go home and see Michael. His trip here in July had been great right up to the end, and then I think they'd had their fill of each other and it was back to squawking at each other. But when push came to shove, they always loved each other and always would take up for the other.  

I really don't know what else we did while he was here. I know he went through her room and some of her jewelry. I told him to take a pair of earrings for Lola that Amanda had loved. I also showed him this elephant pendant necklace that she had loved. It had sort of an African carving look to it. He took that and ended up having it tattooed on his arm when he got back to NC in her memory. We just spent a lot of time loving on each other. I was so proud of him. I didn't know how he would respond given the circumstances and the fact that we had had to remove her from life support before he got there and he'd wanted to see her. I was so glad he was there. I think that he ended up being more support to Tim and I than we were to him. We are all so crushed that this happened.

I know the next day Tim and I went to Urgent Care as he was just getting worse and knew he had to be better to make all of the crazy decisions and stuff we would have to make. Mike stayed out in the car while we were in and it took longer than anticipated. I think we bought him some clothes at one point but I can't be sure. I know we went out to eat at some point, but none of us really had an appetite. I remember feeling guilty for sleeping at all or eating at all. I remember the horror of it all trying to invade my mind and wanting to shake it away and not let it be real. I loved having Michael here but not for this reason. Never for this reason. Because we had decided to have one service for her here in Durant for my family and our church friends and any of her "friends" here who might want to attend, and a second service back in NC since that's where she grew up, we told Mike he could go back if he wanted to. He only works part-time and has no bereavement pay. So we took him back to the airport in the afternoon. I know that before we left Amanda's apartment before Mike left, Tim swiped her Baby Bop and I got her Watermelon Blankie, things she loved and loved to snuggle with that gave her comfort. We needed some of her, something she loved, to bring us comfort, too, to make us feel like we had a piece of her with us.

We have been swamped by calls and texts and food, messages on Facebook, voicemails, donations, etc. Everyone has been so great but I'm not really ready to talk. Talking about it makes it real, and I don't want this reality. At first we were going to fly her body back to NC to have her buried there as that's where she would want to be location wise. The cost of that would be too much for us. We chose cremation. I know that's just her shell, that she is in Heaven, but I gave birth to that shell, I raised that shell and loved that shell. I nursed that shell back to health and wiped tears from her eyes. So the thought of her being cremated still horrifies me. That's one area I have to force myself not to think about. Eventually, though, the thought of leaving her ashes in NC while we live in OK made me sick to my stomach and have major anxiety. We realized that we don't HAVE to bury her anywhere, that we can keep her with us and have her buried with us later. She loved being with us, having us to herself, and that choice gave me more comfort.

We decided to use Brown's Funeral Services from the recommendation of a friend here, Janice Balkenbush, who has been a rock for us. We chose to only have them in charge of cremation and putting her obituary on their website, but I wrote her obituary. Another friend had it put in the Durant newspaper, and Tim's old boss, Will, had it put in the Greenville newspaper. We did not want a cookie cutter type memorial service or program. Tim designed the program. We collaborated about what to put in there. We wanted it to be "her." The owls were on the front to represent each of us. Tim, me, and Mike had closed eyes to represent our sadness, and Amanda's were open and bright to represent life and her being happy. On the inside cover we put her obituary with 4 pictures of her on the inside as well. The opposing inside page had what her name means and the characteristics associated with her name. On the back page we put a poem I'd written for the kids years ago. All of it was tailored to what we felt she would like and that would represent her. Tim and I had also gone through tons of pictures and narrowed it down to about 250 or so to play on a slide show. We bought 8 x 10 picture frames and went through storage to get other pictures. We selected music for her services. In all of this busyness, we had plenty of breakdowns, but the busyness helped give us something to focus on, to give her our best in this, to represent her well, and to let others know more about who she was, and, if they didn't know, that she was saved and very much alive in heaven. We wanted to honor her and share the hope we have in Jesus and that in Him, there is no death.

Wednesday, December 11, 2013 - The day my entire world changed forever.

Wednesday, December 11, 2013

I woke with a bad headache that day, I remember, and had to take some medicine when I got to work. About 9:30 one of my cell phones rang and I see it's Amanda. First I'm shocked that SHE would be UP at 9:30 calling me, then just happy at the thought that she wanted to call me so early. I answered saying, "Hey Baby! What are you doing up so early?" Silence...then, "Uh...is this Amanda Garrett's mother?" Instant alarm...yes, it is, who is this. It was a nurse from the hospital and I'm thinking she's been in another accident. I asked them what was going on. They said Amanda had been brought in by EMS with a possible overdose and where was I at at that moment. I told them I was at work at the Wesley Campus Ministry just 5 minutes away and would be there immediately. There was still ice on the roads so they told me to hurry but to be careful.

Tim had left earlier to WM for supplies for youth group and unbeknownst to me had left his phone as it was dead. I'm in total panic mode. I need my husband. I'm calling and calling and all I get is voice mail. Finally, knowing I need to NOT be on the phone and concentrate on the roads, I call our pastor, Dewey, to ask him to please try and get ahold of Tim and to have him meet me at the hospital asap.

I get to the hospital and of course, the one time I need to park close to get there quickly, I have to park way away and make my way through the ice-covered parking lot to the ER. Of course, when I get in there, there is NO ONE in any of the cubicles to assist. Finally, I see a lady and I burst into her office and tell her my daughter had been brought in by EMS for a possible overdose. She gets up and runs to another lady. So then I have 2 of them. Next the ER nurse comes and I have 3 of them with me. They begin walking me back to the ER when the ER doctor meets us and so there are 4 of us and I'm thinking, "this isn't good. This can't be good." I see the EMS standing behind the nurses' desk and they won't even look me in the eyes. They usher me into the next room over from Amanda, though I didn't know that at the time. They are trying to explain to me that she had been brought in by EMS for a possible overdose. That she had been found without a heartbeat and they don't know how long she had been without one. They said that the only reason EMS decided to work on her at all was because she was so young and her "body was still warm." They were able to get her heart started again but her body was very unstable. She was on life support, they said.

Finally, Tim got there and Pastor Dewey and John. I try to catch them up to speed and then we get to go to the next room and see our girl. She was in the same clothes I had seen her in the day before. There was some blood on her face but they said that was from them inserting the breathing apparatus. Her eyes were slightly open. We go to the side of her bed and just hold her hands and talk to her. I sing to her. Tim touches her feet trying to get a response. They said she'd been completely unresponsive. I remember at some point the ER doctor asks a question that Tim and I were just blown away by as we didn't understand at all...He said, "Can you think of any reason why she may have ingested windshield wiper fluid?" What the heck?? Why would ANYONE ingest that?? Why would you ask us that?? Apparently her blood was super acidic. I asked what could cause that and was told that it could be in part from however long her heart was stopped. When the heart stops pumping blood, acid builds up in the blood stream; or it could be in part from whatever she took. They said either way, in all their years of medicine, they had never seen an acid level that high.  I asked if it was meth or what? Was it heroin? They said all they knew for sure was that there were opiates and alcohol in her system. Apparently heroin is an opiate. My question now is, though, is there a way to tell if that was OLD heroin in her system, like how metabolized was it, and if they could tell what came first, alcohol or whatever else it was. I mean she had already admitted to having used it several days prior so how long does it stay in the system? Then the nagging begins in my brain about that boy threatening to kill her. Did he? Or did she just make a bad choice first to go over there at all, and then maybe to use and then accidentally overdosed? Or did something else go down? If nothing funny had been put into her heroin and if they all used the same stuff, why didn't anything happen to them, too? And supposedly, he went in to wake Amanda up at 8 a.m. and found her that way. The guy has no job. Usually if you are partying at someone's house and they are in a separate bedroom, you are just gonna let them sleep it off and then they go home later. Was there a reason he went in to check on her?

We talked to the detective and police who also said that it looked like Ryan had tried to clean up the scene before calling for help. They found hypodermic needles and alcohol bottles in the trash. Erica, according to Amanda, had been a 10-year heroin user. They had a little boy but didn't have custody of him because of their lifestyle.

Anyway, John and Dewey stay with us off and on throughout the day. More people from church came. My dad came. I asked at one point why her pupils were so big, was it from whatever they gave her to get her heart started? Is it from the drugs? What is it? "That's brain damage," they said. They kept pumping her with this bicarb stuff to try and bring her blood acid level down, but it kept going back up. I remember they gave her a less than 1% chance of surviving just based on how acidic her body was and just based on what they'd seen and her lack of responsiveness, even IF she survived that, she would likely be a vegetable the rest of her life. Trying to process this and refusing to believe she is going to die, I asked them when we could do an EEG on her then. Oh...not for about 2 days. !!!!???!!! Her body was getting cold. They had to put her under a blanket thing that kept very warm water flowing through it. I remember her fingernails were bluish. We would talk to her, cry, pray, and sing. I remember telling her that if she could fight this, then to fight it and come back to us, but if she couldn't, then to run to Jesus. Just run to Jesus, baby.

They talked about the quickest way to get her blood acid under control was to do dialysis. Okay, so do dialysis...oh, but we can't, she's not stable enough. I remember at one point, she began to crash and we had to get out of there so they could work on her. The machines were doing all they could and they were doing all they could, but at one point we were told that we should probably just gather the family and say goodbye.

Finally a neurologist came in and they sent us out. He did an EEG and multiple other neurologic tests, including putting ice cold water in the ear which, if there is any brain activity, SHOULD register something as it is supposed to be extremely painful. He came in afterwards (around 8 p.m.) and said very matter of factly, that he did this and that and no response. There was no frontal brain activity and more importantly no back brain activity whatsoever and oh, by the way, "I pronounced her brain dead at 7:39 p.m." I was stunned. I couldn't breathe. I'm looking around the room at all of the people there just hoping someone could tell me this wasn't true. What he said after that, I will never forget...He said, "I'm very sorry for your loss but she chose this path for her life." I'm sorry but how the hell does HE know if she chose this? It wasn't suicide, of that we are certain. Yes, she clearly made an unwise decision to go over there that day, but her whole life was a struggle. She had bipolar. She was searching for acceptance and ways to help ease her internal pain. Maybe she chose to do the heroin that night. I have no idea and honestly, neither does HE. The only ones who know what happened that night are Amanda, Ryan, Erica, and God.

We go back into her room afterwards. We are crushed. In disbelief. We know what he said, but we had just had such beautiful days with her and how can this be??? I had just spent the day with her the day before singing and laughing and talking and holding hands and being silly. I got to tell her how much we love her and how there was never anything she could ever, ever do that would make us not love her or go to the ends of the earth for her. I remember her saying, "That's what Daddy said the other day!" So how? why? Noooooooo baby! Why??????

We talked about donating her organs. Luckily it wasn't something that we had to guess at; she was a registered organ donor. A team came in from Oklahoma City and arrived around 1 a.m. They set to work doing whatever testing they have to do. Tim and I had to go with a lady, Karen (who ironically was from Lancaster and went to AV High), and do a bunch of questions/paperwork. A while later, the team came in and said because of how acidic her blood was, it had made her whole body toxic, so donating organs was out of the question, but there was still a slight chance for tissue. They even got their medical examiner on the phone trying to see if there was anything else they could try to be able to honor our wishes in some way. Unfortunately, there was not. We had hoped something positive could come out of her death for at least one other person, hopefully many. Now that hope was gone, too.

All we had left was to decide to disconnect her from life support. We had been in touch with Michael, of course, all throughout the day. He was devastated and in disbelief and shock like us all. We had gotten him a flight to come out the next day. He had wanted to see her before they did anything permanent with her. We talked to the organ donor team and the hospital staff. They said that even with all they were doing, she was so unstable that she would not last until 2 p.m. the next day when Mike would arrive in Durant. I was actually glad that Mike would not get to see her like that. It is an image that Tim and I cannot get out of our minds. That is not how we would want anyone to remember her. Tim and I had to go in and ask them to go ahead and disconnect her machines. We, in faith, knew where she was and that she was whole and healed and no more bipolar, that she was better than we, based on her decision for Christ years ago and her baptism. But how do you let your child go?

They stopped her respirator and fairly quickly her oxygen level dropped to zero. But her heart...her heart kept right on beating. But she is brain dead? How can that be?? And it would raise up, then go down some, level out, then raise some more, level out and hold there for a while, and then go down a little. On and on this went. Tim and I are just telling her over and over how much we love her and will miss her. Finally, I'm thinking that somehow she can still hear us and doesn't want to leave us, either, but I tell her it's okay to let go, to go be with Jesus, that it's okay. Shortly after that, her heart stopped, 4:13 a.m. they pronounced that her heart had stopped beating and her body was finished. And even then, how do you leave your baby? How?? We are so broken. We know God didn't cause this but was there to welcome her into heaven. We know we live in this broken world and that where she is, she has no more struggles like she had here. She is free. But we are broken, crushed, devastated, and in shock. How did this happen? Oh my God. My baby is gone?! How do I NOT be her Mom? She can be a pain in the butt, but she was OUR pain in the butt. I remember telling her at one point earlier that I didn't even care if she woke up and cussed me out about something, at least she would be there and I'd hear her voice. Now all I have is a voicemail she sent me and some videos that she's posted of her singing or being silly, and that big, beautiful, wonderful, full-of-life laugh. At least I have that.

Tim and I clung to each other for a while in her room and then we knew we had to leave. We went back to the Wesley for a while, not wanting to be around anyone but each other. We cried. We couldn't eat. We couldn't sleep. We just lay there in utter disbelief and pain like I have never, ever felt before. Even when my mom died, and I have had pain over that for years. It's different when it's your child. I felt robbed of all of the years we should have still had with her, being able to see her on the other side of her struggles, but I guess we will one day, just not the way we had thought. We would never get to see how far she could go with her life if she applied herself. We would never get to see her fall in love and be loved in return. Tim would never get to walk her down the aisle or dance with her at her wedding. She would never get to make us grandparents. We would never get another text or call from her. She would never make me laugh like no one else could...or make me mad like no one else could. I would never be able to hold her hand again or hear her sing. I miss her singing so much. I would never get another hug from her this side of heaven. I miss every single thing about my baby, even the stuff that made me crazy before. I would take all of it back. Every single thing, and yet, knowing how broken she was here and how whole she is there, would I really want to have her back here?? I just hate having to be away from her at all. We chose to have her cremated and Tim is going to make her urn, in the shape of an owl, and we are going to keep her with us and have her buried with us. I think of those last 5 days that God allowed us to have with her. What a gift they were. He knew what was going to happen, and while part of me wonders why the heck he didn't stop it, I have to be thankful for those days and that she is in heaven where I know I'll be with her again. She was SO happy in those days, so open and loving, and we were just eating up being able to have that time together, so together is where her final resting place is going to be, with her Mama and Daddy.

It's Time...

It's time...

I don't want to write about this, but I have to write about this. I don't even want to think about it and yet, that's all I think about. My. baby. is. gone. It has been nearly a month since Amanda passed. I want answers. I'm mad. I'm guilt-ridden. I'm heartbroken and crushed. I want to scream, cry, throw things, and curl up in a ball and just cry and sleep. I don't want to take care of me. I don't want to take care of my parents. I don't want to wake up another day to this being reality. I'm mad at God but I know he didn't take her or make this happen. I know he welcomed her into Heaven with all of the love and acceptance that she had searched her whole life for outside of her family, and regrettably, that she sometimes felt she didn't get it INSIDE her family. I know she has no more bipolar. No more feelings of unworthiness. No more self-loathing. No more trying to cope with the internal pain through drugs.

We thought things had started turning around. She was waiting to hear back from IHOP for a hostessing job. We had just gotten her an apartment that we were going to pay the rent on for a year. That was November 22. She wasn't even fully unpacked yet. She hated living by herself and was anticipating a roommate coming in soon. She loved the freedom of being able to come and go, but she never liked being alone.

The ice storm hit here in early December. She had confessed to having tried heroin. She felt terrible for having done so. So full of shame. I was trapped in Bennington at Dad's and couldn't get to her. She was terribly depressed. I was able to text with her and asked Tim (who was trapped at the Wesley in Durant) to have the police go do a welfare check on her (as she was stuck at her apartment because of the ice). He ended up having the Southeastern police drive him over to her apartment. She was actually in her car trying to warm it up so she could try to get to him. He picked her up and went back to the Wesley where Tim got to pour into her for 2 days. He got to tell her that everyone messes up and does things they regret, but that we just love her no matter what and will always be in her corner and trying to help her in any way. The walls were down and he really got to spend some good time with her. They talked, watched movies, she got online, and also texted with me. I know he said at one point that she said, "I just want my mama." He said, "I'm not your mama, but I'm the next best thing and I love you!" The next day I was able to drive into town. He had been able to take her back to her apartment for a little bit and she wanted us to stay the night! We were all excited. We picked up some food for lunch and also bought food at WM for us to have for supper. We got stuff to make her favorite spinach dip. She was really so happy that we were all there together. I got to take a picture of her that night as we watched a movie, which is now my background on my phone. She just looked happy, peaceful, and content. We watched Jingle All the Way. Later we all went up to the Wesley where we had supper and watched the other two movies we had rented. She laid in my lap and I got to run my fingers through her hair. Her feet were on Tim and I think he tickled them some. We were all eating up the time together. We all went back to her apartment later where she gave Tim and I her bed and she slept on the couch. What a beautiful night. The next day we went to work and she texted me later saying I'd left some stuff at her apartment that I was supposed to take to my dad's. I told her I'd come over on my lunch after I ran to the bank. She texted, Good! I get to see my pretty mama again! I went over there and chatted with her, at the rest of my sandwich from Arby's from the day before and got some nice big hugs. We were happy to see each other again, even if just for a few minutes. Later she said she was going to go to her friend Julia's house as I had a migraine and was going to go home. Tim was disappointed as he had hoped to stay the night again at her apartment and just hang out with her more. She texted me later saying she had gone on home as she had a headache and Julia had a houseful of people over. Tim was disappointed as she didn't let him know she had gone home and he stayed at the Wesley. The next day, Tuesday the 10th, I wasn't even supposed to be at work but had brought the cats up there to give them flea baths. I also knew I had to run to Ada for my meds. When I was thinking about heading out, Amanda stopped in. I asked her if she wanted to go with me, and to my surprise and delight, she said yes. We had such a great time. She didn't realize how far away Ada was so I asked her if she wished she had rethought her decision to come with me, and she said No, because she wouldn't have gotten to spend all that time with her Mama. We held hands, we sang goofy songs, we just talked and goofed around. She even took a picture of us in the car on the way. We would say the same thing at the same time and then laugh at how much alike we were.

At one point, though, on the way, her phone rang. It was this boy, Ryan. She had told us that he was the one who had given her the heroin and that she had been his ride down to Dallas to get it. They had had a falling out a week or so before and hadn't been speaking. She said he had flipped out on her when she had told him that she didn't want to be his ride anymore, that she didn't want to do it anymore and just needed to step back. She said he had threatened to kill her. She had told us that she was afraid of him and that he was "crazy." I asked her who was on the phone as I could tell she was surprised. She said it was Ryan. I asked her what he wanted and why he was calling. She said he had called to apologize to her and ask her for a ride. I asked her if she didn't find that a little coincidental that he apologizes to her and in the same breath asks for a ride. She said yeah, but I can't believe he actually apologized. I told her I didn't trust him. She said she didn't trust him either, but she trusted herself. She said he had offered her $100 to take him somewhere. I told her I didn't want her to go. I begged her to please not go. She squeezed my hand and said, "I'll be fine Mama, I promise." I looked out the side window, upset, as I could tell she was going to go anyway. She squeezed my hand again so I would look at her, and she said, "I promise." I asked her to just stay away, that she wasn't strong enough, that if she really wanted away from all of that, then she needed to stay totally away. She said she just wanted to find out where he wanted her to take him, that if it was to Dallas, she would know what that was about and wouldn't take him.

My mind was racing. Do I take her out to supper to prolong this day and maybe she will change her mind about going? I had started supper in the crock pot before leaving that morning and knew my parents eat early. Part of what I needed to finish supper was at the Wesley still. It was about 5:15 when I dropped her off at the Wesley. I ran in to get my stuff and the cats, and we said we loved each other. Tim saw her leaving and heading down 3rd Street (her apartment is on 1st) and she waved real big at him. He called and asked me where she was going and I told him I wasn't certain but told him about the call and figured that is where she was headed. We were both very upset and worried for her. Later in the evening I got a message from her on FB asking how dinner was (she had told me earlier that she wanted me to save her some chicken and dumplins). She said, "How was dinner lucky butt?" I said it was Mmm Mmm Good. That was the last I ever heard from my baby.

I will have to continue this tomorrow...