“I was 12 when I met the most beautiful girl I had ever seen. I noticed a tall, skinny, blue eyed girl with curly blonde hair and a smile that could light up the world. It was 10:45 p.m. when I heard the words ‘Ashley’s gone. She’s dead.’ Ashley was so skinny, she flew out of her seatbelt and was thrown into the back seat of her car.”
“Her eyes turned dead and hateful, and she began laughing at things that weren’t funny. If she was forced to make a decision as simple as what shirt to wear, she would rage and scream, ‘I DON’T KNOW!!!’ I had to explain to her 5-year-old sister why her sibling didn’t want to play with her anymore. ‘She’s very sick right now.’ It started as the flu, but my instincts knew better.”
“Our midwife came in and hugged me. ‘How are y’all doing?,’ she asked. It was all too much. What did she mean by ‘abnormalities?’ I stopped her and asked. That’s when the rest of the conversation disappeared from my memory. I would NEVER let this define Nolan.”
“Out of the blue, one early morning, my daughter asked me, ‘Do you miss Meema?’ Just hearing her name is enough to stop me in my tracks. ‘Of course, I miss her,’ I replied. ‘What do you miss?’ She asked. ‘I miss her here.’ I said. My heart felt heavy.”
“I had already popped a bunch of pills and drank a bunch of Vodka. ‘I want to see him!’ I screamed, shaking profusely. My mom said, ‘No, you don’t. He shot and killed himself with a 12-gauge shotgun in his mouth.’ I look at my phone. It reads, ‘I love you.’ 6:24 pm.”
“I catch a glimpse of you when I look at myself in the mirror. It takes my breath away at first. You died six weeks too soon.”
“We were sitting around the dinner table sharing our ‘highs and lows’ of the day. Everyone was laughing. It felt like such a good meal conversation. It was Sawyer’s turn to share his high and low. ‘Alright buddy, you’re up.’ It got quiet.”
“They kept calling her ‘ugly and black’. At first, she wasn’t afraid. But it got to the point where too many were joining in and it became a daily occurrence. During the drive, I prayed for a miracle as my son slept behind me. I just wanted to see her. To make sure she would be okay. But I’d never get to see her alive again. Now the only way I can ever be with her again is at a grave site. McKenzie Adams. I will not let here name die.”
“The timer went off. I patted my belly. ‘You did it! Well done!’ It was time to take the first step in doing what I’d been thinking about for quite some time. When the nurse walked in with those papers, I went straight to the bathroom and sobbed. I walked toward the dreaded exit. I had to say goodbye.”
“Our family of 4 was complete the day Scarlett came into the world. When we lost her, we lost our way. Our bouncing, baby girl died of SIDS at daycare just 2 weeks after I went back to work. The hospital staff literally held me up as I watched them work on her tiny, lifeless body. Deep into my grief, I had a realization; Scarlett would never want this for me. Her time on Earth was short, but her impact is undeniable.”
