The phone call every parent dreads.

The phone rang at 11:30pm.  A phone call after 11:00pm is never a good thing.

I immediately felt something internally grab my stomach, and I couldn’t breathe, and my intuition was correct.  It was the call no parent wants to receive…the call telling me my son had been in a car accident.

I jumped out of bed and started asking a million questions.  The nurse was put on the phone, and she replies with, “He is lucid.”

This was the longest night I can ever remember.  

Jordan was able to talk with me, but he was extremely anxious about everything.  His legs were aching terribly, his head was hurting, his chest was hurting, and he couldn’t remember much about the accident.  I felt that was a good thing.  The good Lord above protects our minds until we are better prepared to handle all of the details in such traumatic events.  That is my belief anyway.

I don’t ever think I have felt more helpless.  My son, Jordan, was in Dallas, Texas, which was many, many miles from Winchester, Kentucky.  He was in his 3^rd week of flight academy training with American Airlines.  All that I could do was depend on Jordan’s friends to keep me updated on all of his test results, and they did.  One friend, Caity, will forever be on Santa’s good list if I have anything to do with it.

In between phone calls, my mind wandered to that baby boy I brought into this world 26 years earlier.  I saw pictures of him in my head taking his bottle, or playing with his big brother.  I remembered his first birthday.  I remembered his first day of school.  I remembered band concerts, and I remembered a special lunch we shared at Ramsey’s in Lexington, KY.  I felt fear like I have never felt fear before, and I felt completely out of control.  Yet, I had to be strong for my son, my baby boy. 

After Jordan was a little calmer, he was able to tell me he was on his way home after a very late class with 4 other friends, and that he was in the middle of the backseat.  A car in the left lane beside them came over on top of them and pushed them off the road.  The driver panicked and overcorrected pulling the car back onto the highway, and the car began flipping.  That was all he could remember until he woke up to paramedics.

He then said the hospital had to cut off his clothes and shoes to get to his injuries and that he would need some new clothes.  Really?  Really?  That is what you are concerned about in this moment.  I was sure it must be the meds talking, or his way of thinking about something else.  I assured him we would get some new clothes.  And, I told him to try to relax and think about other things…hoping to lower his anxiety after such a traumatizing accident.  But, that didn’t work very well.  I could hear the trembling in his voice.

Throughout the night, test results indicated he would be fine.   He had lots of bumps, cuts and bruises, but nothing that seemed life threatening.  He did have a strong headache, and the doctors asked friends who were taking him home to wake him up every two hours to make sure he was ok.  This created a situation where Jordan was afraid to go to sleep.  But, I do think he got a little sleep.  I, on the other hand, did not.  I was up thanking The Good Lord above for taking care of my child.  Oh, how this story could have been so different.  

The next morning, Jordan was beginning to remember pieces of the wreck his mind had protected him from.  He remembered the car was laying on its side, and the young man to his right being on top of him.  He could hear screaming.  And, he could remember trying to reach up to push the door open at the top.  That is all he remembers.  He still does not know how he got out of the car.  However it happened, God had a big hand in it.

My son has had an on-going headache, his left leg has a deep cut and is very swollen…he has many aches, pains, bruises and cuts throughout his body, and his nerves have been on an emotional roller-coaster.  But, he survived.  He even got up the next morning and made himself go back to class.  I was not too happy about that.  The momma bear in me wanted him snug as a bug in a rug…getting rest.  I lost that battle.  He is nothing, if not determined!

I was so inspired by the strength my son demonstrated that next morning.  I would like to think he got some of that strength from me.  Well, he would have received that strength from a younger version of me.  I only made it through a half day of work the next day.  This menopausal mom cannot run on zero sleep!  I went home and went to bed. 

But, my son has taught me a valuable lesson.  When I feel, let’s use the word, “witchy,” I will step back and think about how blessed I am, and that I need to keep the “witch” in me, in check!  And, when I have minor aches and pains, as older women do, I will remember how much he was suffering when he got up and went to class the morning after such a horrific accident.  And, when I have those days where I feel I cannot take anymore, I will remember the Lord above is with me, just as he was with my son.

May your hot flashes be mild and your wrinkles even milder.
Kim York

  

The anniversary of my dad's death. I still miss him every day!

December 1^st, 2014, is the first anniversary of my father’s death.  That happens to be today.  I feel numb.  I feel sad.  I feel sick.

Yesterday, I wasn’t sure what I would feel today.  Yesterday, the feeling was dread.  But, dreading it did not keep it from happening.  I woke up at 5:00am, and the date hit me like a ton of bricks.

What do you do on the anniversary of someone’s death?  I know what to do when it is someone’s birthday, or marital anniversary.  But, what is the proper thing to do on the anniversary of someone’s passing?  Does Hallmark make a card for this? 

So far, I have cried.  That’s about it.  I have tried to teach class, but I am sure my student’s know I am somewhat distracted.  You see, more than the fact my dad died one year ago today, I live with something that is still hard for me to think about.  I had my father’s body burned. 

I know the proper terminology is "cremated," but that is not what went through my mind at the time.  I was in shock from his death, and I was in shock by what I had to do.  This was his request.  He wanted to be cremated, and asked that this request be fulfilled on several occasions.  I always assured him I would honor this request, but never really gave it too much thought.  However, after he died, this was a harder task than I had imagined.

The day after he passed was the day the funeral home would be taking him to be cremated at another location in a different state.  They assured me they would call me as they were leaving and that someone would be with him at all times.  Then they agreed to call me when they were back with his remains.  They were successful with the last part, but failed to call me when they left with him.

I broke down.  I kept thinking maybe I would change my mind, and that I had until they called as a deadline to back out.  And if I backed out, I would just have him buried.  But, they never called.  I never had the chance to change my mind.

Maybe God intervened to keep my father’s wishes?  But none-the-less, I was at a low point in my life.  Had I done the right thing…even though this was my father’s request? 

I wish I had discussed this much deeper with my dad.  But, I always said, “Dad, we have many years to talk about this…let’s talk about something less depressing.” 

I need to get this out of my head…I cannot go back.  I followed through with what my father wanted, and I need to take solace in that.  And, I am grateful to God every day that my father passed without the need for life-support.  Making a decision to turn off life-support is something I never want to do.  I watched my husband and his sister’s go through this with both parents, and I felt their hearts breaking.

So, I guess the best thing to do today is to remember my father and the love we had for each other.  I am so fortunate to have so many good memories of time with him.  I was truly a daddy’s girl, and I miss him every day…every minute.  

Peace to all,
Kim