I am holding mine just a little more tightly these days.
This month has been the best of times and the worst of times. I had a wonderful trip to OC and some absolute quality Jimmy time. Oh, how I miss that boy. For those of you who don't know about him, he and I have been best friends since we were 5 and 6. With my parents being gone, that makes him the person I have known longer than anyone. That makes him my family. He is the person I can communicate with, with no words necessary. A glance speaks volumes. He makes me laugh til I am begging him for mercy and calling for an ambulance. HE IS AB FAB (absolutely fabulous) and I love him with all my heart. Years can go by and we pick up just as if I was never gone. I hope everyone has a Jimmy in their life.
Anyway, upon my return, I received a phone call from my keyboard player, Steve. I adore this guy. He is not only a talented musician, but a truly wonderful person too. He loves to put up this big old crusty front, but the minute he sees my babies (he is thus far, the only Spentrod to come to my house to see them) he turns into melted butter. He and his wife Carol are very sweet people (even though he would like everyone else to think differently. I got his number). Steve was calling to tell me that his daughter, Emma had passed away. Emma was just 34 years old and died of a pulmonary embolism. It is a bit of frustrating story, that would involve me going off on our health care system and inattentive doctors, so I will spare you the details. But I will say that obviously, Steve and Carol's hearts are broken. I had the opportunity to meet Emma, she worked for Daybreak and actually set up all these gigs we have been having out there. She was one of the few people that actually cared about the band (oh, honey, you have no idea how we can be treated) and took care of us (that her dad was in it helped, no doubt). She was very kind and absolutely loved animals. She had a little dog, Oscar, who will miss her terribly. And anyone that loves animals like Emma does, is a very good person indeed.
Even though I really didn't know her, Craig (guitar player) and I went to the viewing. I could tell by the turnout that she was loved by an awful lot of people. Carol and Steve were so gracious and strong. And it just shook me up. It was so fast and unexpected for them and yet here they were, greeting everyone with smiles (albeit a little bit sad ones) and hugs. It made me start to think about how precious life is.
Before I had a chance to really recover, I received even more sad news. I have a friend that I love and admire, her name is Kelli. She has been doing my hair since 1997 (and anybody that would take that on for this long, is clearly the most tolerant person on the planet!). She did my hair for my wedding and sealing, in fact no one has done anything with my hair since the day I met her. I cannot emphasize enough how amazing I think this young woman is - she is, in fact about the same age as Emma. She has seen me and my family during some of the best and worst moments in my life - and I have seen her, her husband and three beautiful daughters through theirs. Two Thanksgivings ago, she lost her daddy and having been through that myself, we felt a certain sisterhood. She and her daughters gave me a "heart attack" when we went through our adoption loss. We don't talk every day, but we just kind of "do" for each other.
Last week I learned that while driving to a family reunion at Yellowstone, her mom Diane and her 16 year old daughter, McKenzie were killed in a tragic car accident. It also claimed the life of her step-father and a nephew was seriously injured. I have known McKenzie since she was two years old. I learned about this 3 hours before her McKenzie's viewing was to begin (I missed her mom's funeral by a day). It was just happenstance (or was it) that I called that day and spoke to her husband. I went to the viewing straight from work still reeling. While I stood in yet another long line (I think most, if not all of Jordan High School was there) I tried to absorb this. I thought about McKenzie and the awesome young lady that she is. I remember Chad bringing her into the salon (before Kelli started working at home) in a stroller. I listened as she got more and more accomplished on the piano - she is truly an amazing musician - and thought how lucky I am to have live music while I get my hair done. Just a month or so ago, we talked about the prom and she showed me her prom dress and I sat there shaking my head that she could actually be that grown up already. She has such a sweet disposition and a great attitude. She is clearly one of kids doing the right thing and on the right track in life. She is a light, an absolute light, and now she is shining somewhere else. I thought "I just can't bear this! How is her mom going to be able to?". I kind of even managed to sorta kinda hold it together. Until I saw Kelli. I don't know how many of you have ever gone to a viewing/funeral and the family ended up comforting YOU but that is exactly what happened. Kelli and Chad were the epitome of grace and strength. And I could not keep my composure in the face of it. Kelli gathered me in her arms as we looked down at McKenzie in her bright sweater and her volleyball jersey in her hands and told me "It's alright. In our faith, we know, that it's alright". She told me that it was absolutely meant to be that I had called that day so that I could see Kenz one last time. She told me she would call me soon and we would chat. I could barely manage to stammer out "I'm so sorry". It was surreal. I am so grateful for the example that Kelli is to me. I don't know if I could do what she did.
I do know that I think about the fragility of life now more than a little bit. I think we all do when things like this happen, at least for a while. I am now not just starting to think about how precious life is but remember it everyday. I am going to remember to drive a little slower, to take my time. I am going to remember to laugh more and love harder. I am going to let my face light up every time one of my kids comes in the room. I am going to remember to hug and kiss everyone goodbye when I leave. I am going to tell them I love them. I am going to try and be more faithful, for I know that it is only the strength of God that is giving these precious people the ability to survive, along with their next breath of air. And I am going to do my very best to love them through it.
I am hugging my daughters, along with my husband and son, the very next time I see them. I hope that you do the same.
