"Upsetting the "normal" while creating the beautiful." Annette Kruschek |
"The Anniversary"... rather the day one year ago that I began dreaming and never woke up. It still doesn't seem real that I will live the rest of my life without my youngest child. I will save you all from hearing me complain and shout at the unfairness of it all.
I decided months ago that I wouldn't let Evelyn's death define my life. I promised myself that in order to be Evelyn's Mom I needed to live a life that she would be proud of. That all sounds admirable but actually doing it is something completely different. How would I describe these past twelve months? Heavy. It's like wearing a weighted blanket on you ALL. DAY. LONG. It's like having something sitting on your chest ALL. DAY. LONG. It's like someone throwing bags of concrete at you and expecting you to carry them while living your life. Being strapped to pounds of concrete, wearing a weighted blanket and having an elephant sit on your chest ALL. DAY. LONG is something that our family is trying to get used to doing but to be perfectly honest no matter how many weeks or months that pass the weight is just as heavy as it was a year ago. I have so much I want to share about this year. The bad. The sad. The miserable. The lonely. BUT instead of telling you the obvious I thought I would share with you the moment heaven interceded. I am not here to persuade you to believe in God. I am not going to ask you what religion you are. I don't care if you have attended mass in the last month and I don't really want to hear your confession. My reason for telling you this very personal story is to let you all know that Evelyn is in heaven. I say that because God gave us a child not so that we "could save her" but rather that she could save us. Evelyn's death has absolutely turned our family upside down all while pointing us in the direction of him. God. I am going to share a story that's personal but one that needs to be shared. It's my story to share and one that I hope you all will respect. The final moments of Evelyn's life were so short. Without going into too much detail we found ourselves calling an ambulance in the early hours of morning. When the ambulance arrived Dan knew that something was quickly changing for the worse. Moments. That's all we had. As Dan got in the ambulance I followed behind in our vehicle and only moments later the ambulance pulled over. It didn't take long for me to realize that Evelyn was in her final moments. That is when God took over. Without detail I want you to visualize the scene... From my vantage point I could see Dan with a male paramedic at Evelyn's feet, next to Evelyn was another male paramedic and I was by her head. Another male driver was in the front and was calling for backup. While the seconds were ticking away I looked up at Dan and we locked eyes like never before; we shared words only with our eyes but our hearts knew what was happening. Within seconds we were asked to leave the ambulance to make room for more help. As I was leaving the ambulance I turned to the individual next to me and said, "please don't stop", the response was a very assertive, "I promise we won't." The paramedics, the ER team as well as Evelyn's beloved ICU team worked very hard to bring her back but the moment when Dan and I locked eyes at 4:44:47am I somehow knew God was taking her. What made me look up at the digital clock in the ambulance? What made my husband and I lock eyes during a very critical moment? Here are my thoughts... Fast forward to May. Months had passed but one thing didn't escape my mind... the EMS team. I wanted closure. Actually, I wanted to see their faces again. I wanted to hear anything that they might have to say. I called to see if they would be willing to meet us at our home. What I wasn't prepared for was what the result would end up being. Weeks later the team who was on the call drove to our home. Sitting on the porch together all while sharing the same story of sadness was oddly healing. I believe it was therapeutic for them as well since they told us that many times that don't ever know the outcome unless they call the hospital. They told us that they had called the hospital the following day only to hear the news of Evelyn's passing. While sitting and talking I couldn't help but wonder who the female was who joined the team on our porch, (If you remember, I said there two male paramedics in the back of the ambulance with Dan and I). Finally, curiosity got the best of me and I asked her if she was the dispatcher. This is when heaven interceded... her response was, "no, I was right next to your head as you were talking to your daughter." She continued to explain that she was the person I said, "please don't stop". She went on to explain that she has never made a promise to anyone before while on a call. This mystery person who I didn't remember seeing, hearing or even talking to was now on my front porch and was telling me about our final moments together. I missed hearing her name earlier and when asked her to tell me her name again she laughingly said... Elizabeth. ELIZABETH, the name of my beloved Mother. God did it again. Heaven interceded. Proof that Evelyn was with my Mom in her final moments. My Mom passed away only months before Evelyn came home from China. Why God chose to take my child is one I will never know on this side but something I do know is that my Mom is caring for her until I have the chance again. One year later and I am choosing hope. One year later and I am choosing to live a life that isn't immersed in darkness. Evelyn brought me to Arizona this week. Her and I have climbed mountains, I have painted, written and sat in silence. It's in the silence that I see more clearly. I want to say that the weighted blanket feels a bit less heavy but that just not the case. I'm willing to be uncomfortable with the grief. Grief doesn't stop me from living. Evelyn climbed mountain after mountain without complaints. She did hard things. Her family will do hard things as well. Here we are one year later... still intact. Bruised but not beaten down. For all of those who has been watching our journey unfold after all these years I am here to tell you that heaven does exist. One could say seeing your parents and your daughter pass in front of you is traumatic but I prefer to think of it as God's way of trusting me. Trust. Faith over fear...ALWAYS.
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AuthorI am a proud Mother to eight children and a wife to my very best friend. I work hard, play hard and love until it hurts. Archives
January 2023
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