Six Months of Hardship

Our family was very fortunate when it came to death and loss. We lost my Grandfather Frank while I was pregnant with Jace, and we lost Chris's Grandmother "Nanny" shortly after Jace was born. Those losses were both hard, but they were long lives, where both people were very sick to help those of us left behind justify their passing. Both told loved ones at the end that they were ready to go. There was pain there, but also peace. That is how every ending should be, it is what I would wish for all of us.

We recently experienced two much more severe and devastating losses...


Six months ago today, Chris lost his father.
There is a lot of backstory there, but that is for another day, another time. The thing is, life was looking up for him. The last time we spoke to him was on speaker phone, and he was spunky and happy. He was scheduled to have the lower portion of his leg amputated, due to an infection and softening bones. At first this news was hard, but in this phone call he was laughing about pimping out his new leg. He was talking excitedly about how after the healing process that he'd be here to visit us in Germany. It was a good conversation, and for me it was one of few I had with him in his last year, because I struggled holding a conversation with him on the phone. I regret not talking to him more, but I am so thankful for that final conversation.
Two days later, he passed away in his sleep. He was on pain meds he should never have been prescribed because they numb your esophagus as well as your body. It was a freak accident. A tragic, awful, terrible "accident". Saying that word doesn't soften the pain of it. He should be mid recovery, with a pimped out prosthetic and as much sass as ever. And he should be here, blaring country music, spitting out southern sayings and loving on his grandchildren.

One month ago today, I lost my sister.
Katherine was 20 years old. She was in college, and truly just beginning to find herself and to truly live. I am still trying to reconcile it enough in my head to find words to say about her passing. My last conversation with her was over snap chat, so it is gone. We were talking about her boyfriend and his recent surgery and recovery. She was so positive and happy that the surgery was behind them and that they would be moving forward. That was about two weeks before her accident. She was driving home from college for the weekend with two friends, when she was struck in the driver side by an oncoming truck. It was instant, and for that I will forever be grateful. My dad called me in Germany, at 4:45am to tell me. It was a 6 minute phone call, but I will never forget it. Since that call I have had a scream building in my chest that I can't release. I don't know what is wrong with my brain, but I really struggle to remember anything that involved her, which makes no sense. We have a million memories, but it is like they are filed away and I can't find the key.


On this, the shittiest type of anniversary, I just want to say-I love you. Say it freely, say it often, say it with conviction. You never know what your last words to someone will be, and the only thing I can be thankful for in either of these losses is the knowledge that the last words I said to both Rick and Katherine are "I love you".