Previous Challenge Entry (Level 2 – Intermediate)
Topic: Home (01/09/06)
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TITLE: Mine Came Home | Previous Challenge Entry
By Birdie Courtright
01/15/06 -
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“My Angel” she stammered through her sobs, “she loved the snow…”
I glanced down, not able to look at the depth of this tragedy any longer. I remember seeing the toes of the shivering teenager standing next to me. The mom reflex kicked in and I peeled off my wool coat and tossed it silently around her feet, fearing she would wind up with frost-bite in those strappy shoes. ‘Only a teenage girl would wear strappy shoes to a funeral in December’, I thought. I was trying to disengage my brain from the reality of the scene that was playing out so harshly next to Christmas.
The procession to the cemetery had been long and emotional. I carried seven other teens in my van, all in various stages of shock. This wasn’t the way any of us had planned to spend the last few days before Christmas. I choked back the emotion as my mind panned over the events of the last three days.
It began with a dream-shattering scream coming from the direction of my daughter’s bedroom. I flew out of bed half conscious, startled and shaken by the guttural moans that followed. I made my way to her room, eyes half open. Shoving frantically against the door, I found her curled on the floor, phone in hand, face buried in her knees.
“Shawn! What’s wrong?”
“Angela and James are dead, mom! They’re dead!”
Three teens had decided to take a weekend trip to Amarillo for the holidays. The two sisters, Crystal and Angela had not wanted to travel alone so James had agreed to go along.
It had been late, and they had decided it was time to switch drivers. Crystal, only sixteen, took the wheel while the other two slept. She missed a critical exit and turned around. Finally finding her way back onto the right road, she settled in for a straight drive through to their destination. They were almost there.
The missed exit had only cost them about fifteen minutes of additional driving time. What they couldn’t have known was that the fifteen minute detour would place them directly in the path of a drunk driver who had also made a wrong turn. He was racing well ahead of the 65 mph. speed limit in oncoming traffic. The two sleeping teens were killed instantly when his car careened into theirs. Crystal was spared by the air bag.
The girl with the strappy shoes nudged my shoulder, snapping me back to reality. Handing me the coat, she whispered her thanks and walked away. It was over. The snow flakes had turned to little frozen pellets that crunched beneath our feet as we made our way back to our cars.
The kids talked quietly about James’ funeral which had been scheduled at the same time as Angela’s. Not many of these kids knew him. My daughter had been the one to introduce him to Crystal and her sister, Angela. I pulled up to the curb of Angela’s aunt and uncle’s home where the family was gathering. The kids helped me carry in the food that I had prepared for them the night before. I didn’t stay long, I couldn’t.
I desperately wanted pans of chicken and rice to somehow change their reality. In the midst of strangers with exhausted eyes and blank expressions, I realized that I could never touch their pain. It seemed surreal to me. Only one decision…just a few words had separated me from truly entering their world.
Shawn and I had talked of the last time she had spoken with her friends. They had met at a car wash not far from our house, and the three travelers were in high spirits. They’d even tried to convince Shawn to come along, and she had tried to think of some way to get one over on us so that she could join the fun. Shawn loves adventure. Pulling a fast one on her parents was nothing new, but she was trying to stay out of trouble; a recent turn around for her.
Fate and Providence surely argued over the four friends as they laughed and joked at the car wash that night. As the four children made their plans, Fate and Providence rolled the dice. Mine came home.
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Lovingly dedicated to my daughter Shawn, in remembrance of her friends; Angela Martinez and James Kucovatz, whose lives were tragically taken by a drunk driver.
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Thank you, for sharing this.
It was very thought provoking.
FROM TRAGEDY TO TRIUMPH
By: Gary James Smith
From tragedy to triumph,
What glory in the cross!
That Jesus Christ the Lamb of God,
Sustains us in our loss.
Though loved ones befall trials,
And death itself knocks too
Abiding in the love of God,
He gives us grace anew.
Not victims of our circumstances,
But victor’s in the fray!
We stand triumphant with our Lord,
Who guides us all the way.
Though tears may fall so freely,
And voice seems weak in song,
Within our breast are wells of joy,
Our Lord doth make us strong!
Take hope, my friends and ponder,
Though our son be laid to rest;
His body’s but a temple,
His sprit’s with the Blest!
In Loving Memory of Stratton Phillip Smith September 18, 1984 to July 20, 1999