Shock. Complete and utter, all encompassing shock. That’s how I felt after my husband awoke me from my half sleep while nursing our 2 month old on Monday. I heard him down stairs, in my half awaken state; not fully comprehending what I was hearing. Was that crying I heard? A few minutes later he burst in our bedroom. “You have to get up. Something terrible has happened,” he said somberly. He burst into tears, unable to form the words he needed to tell me for a few minutes. “What is it, my love? Tell me. Is it your parents? Did something happen to them?,” I replied calmly but still half asleep. “It’s Charity. There’s been an accident. She passed away yesterday,” he said in between tears. I was now fully awake. Fully present. The words: “This is a dream right? I’m going to wake up from this any minute,” raced through my head. But in my heart I knew it was true. She was really gone and this moment was really happening. “I saw Joy (her mother) was calling your phone so I picked it up to answer,” he wept. I just sat there in silence, nursing our daughter at the edge of our bed. My wonderful, sweet, dear friend of the past 11 years was gone at 32 years old.
No one will ever know the details of that accident. The only one to witness the accident was their 15 month old son, who survived without a scratch. How and why the side by side flipped will forever be a mystery. The events that followed, however, are itched in her family’s memories forever. Her funeral is today. The hotel is booked & my husband and I are going.
It’s hard for me to even really comprehend that she is gone. I spoke to her the day before she died. I had just put my phone down in the console of my van after talking to my mom, when I heard her voice call out my name to say hello. My finger must have clicked her name when I put the phone down. We talked briefly about how my daughter was doing, a book I had been reading, and encouraging each other as Moms before hanging up so she could answer another call. The next day she was unexpectedly ushered into heaven.
These last few days I have been reflecting on the significance of a human life and the void that is left when even just one person passes away from this life to the next. Her husband no longer has his life partner, closest friend, and companion. Their two little boys no longer have a mother to hold them when they cry, to mend their scrapes and bruises, to tickle them, laugh with them, mentor them. As young as they are will they even remember her? Remember her laugh, her tears, her joy, her voice? They will only have pictures and stories told to them by others. They won’t get to know her as they get older as she got to know her mother.
Her parents no longer will hear their daughter’s voice. No more smiles. No more “Hey Mom, how’s it going today?” or “Dad, can you help us fix this thing?” No longer can her brother ask her opinion on a matter or “endure” her playful teasing. An Aunt, a cousin, a niece, a sister-in-law; these are just a few of the roles she played. A neighbor. A nurse. A friend. My friend. The void that is here now that she’s gone is huge. She was irreplaceable.
Charity is not only my friend but my sister-in-Christ. As a believer in Jesus Christ I know that she is not gone forever but that she only made it to heaven before me; before us. She is running the streets of heaven and probably going for run across heaven’s countryside. She is waiting for us as she worships our Lord with her baby girl that she had miscarried and her other family members who have past on in the last few years. She has entered into that great cloud of witnesses mentioned in Hebrews 12:1. She has run the good race and she is waiting for those she beat to the finish line to catch up, all the while talking with the Apostles, King David, and her other heroes in the faith! It still sucks for the rest of us though. We are still running this race and now we are running it without her.
I remember having many conversations about the hard times in life; how we were never promised life without sorrow or hardship but we are promised that Christ would be with us in the midst of our pain. He too has suffered as we suffer. He felt the pain of death and the mourning that comes when those we loved who have passed away. The Bible talks about how God collects our tears. He notices. He doesn’t forget our pain and sorrows. He promises us beauty for ashes. Though at this point in time it’s hard to see the beauty that may come in such a tragedy. The heart still aches for what is missed and what could have been. It aches for the dreams that will never be realized. It aches for those who are left to mourn the life well lived but only for such a short time. At 32 years old there is still so much life that could have been lived. So many more memories to be made and they will be made, but now she won’t be there. The heart aches for her boys, her husband, her parents, her brother, her extended family, and her friends.
Good bye my dear sweet friend. I miss you. I know we’ll have eternity together but it still sucks you’re gone.
April 21, 2021
The Ruby Blossom 