It's been a year since my dad lost his life. It's been a year since I saw my dad's ever-so-popular smile, since I heard him speak, since I spoke to him. I miss him.
There are so many things I want to spill out on to this page, so many, many things that are running through my mind. Bear with me, this might not be a blog that serves a purpose for you, but mostly for myself. I want everyone to know how I feel and maybe in the process, help someone else who is grieving.
For those of you who are wondering how my family is, I can tell you we have had much worse days than TODAY. It's actually not as bad as I thought it was going to be. Just typing that sentence is a miracle in itself. So I should thank you, all your prayers have not been in vain.
Today, a year ago, I witnessed the worst thing I could ever image. Actually, it was so far-fetched that I didn't even think something like that could happen to me or my family. I said I would post about the day my died on the one year anniversary - so I will. I'm not planning on it being too long, so if you feel like something is missing, you can read my blog post called "The Day At The Beach", that has all the "particular" details in it. I think this would make more sense if you read that one first.
I was dressed in jeans and a t-shirt. But as my sister friends, all of them my friends as well, arrived, we realized it was much hotter than we thought. So I went upstairs to change - I picked out purple shorts with black details and a gray crop top with a multi-colored heart on it. Inside, the heart said "Summer love". I haven't worn that outfit since. I wore the top once, but not the shorts since that day, I threw them just the other day. I had time to change because my mom, who was the planned chauffeur and supervisor of the party, had thrown out her back just as people were arriving; so everyone was trying to figure out what to do. My dad and a good family friend, Mrs. Corrigan - her daugher is one of my sisters best friends- volunteered to go in my mom's place. My dad went and changed into his beachwear, he put on a gray t-shirt, his swim trunks and a black cap. He was frustrated, but he was trying hard to be in a good mood for Brynn. He kissed my mom goodbye, something that didn't happen everytime he left the house, and we took off.
We took two vans, I drove in the car my dad was driving. He listened to his book on tape, while eating his favorite candy, cherry licorice. My friend and I were having I serious conversion, but I can't remember what. I remember zoning out for a bit, thinking that there was a weird feeling in the air; I shook it off. We arrived at the beach and the wind off the lake cooled us a bit. As soon as we saw the water our chance of swimming was dashed. We talked about wading in the water, but we all agreed it was too cold, but maybe later. We decided to take a walk down the beach to take pictures. We did just that, we talk, we laughed and we posed. On the way back as we neared the spot where we had left my dad to watch over our things, one of my closest friends said "Guys, you wanna know something crazy? Before I came to your house, my dad said "Be careful, a lot of people die in Lake Erie." We just laughed that one off. We got back to the main section and found my dad. As we walked past him, he smiled at us, you could tell he was trying to be friendly, but let us have our girl time. I joked "He's such a nerd;O" That might have been the last words I said that my dad heard.
We began to set up our towels in a circle so that we could all talk face to face. Then it happened; we heard someone scream for help. There was a moment of confusion, bystanders began to gather, then someone said to call 911. Someone screamed "MY BABY!" The panic that arose in my heart is undesirable, it was so sudden - like a light switch. This was really happening. Me and my friends looked at one another. "We need to pray" I think I was the one that said it. But I might be wrong. We formed a circle and I prayed, shaking, eyes closed. When I opened them, my dad was already in the water. I didn't see him go in, I didn't see his last daring act - the last time he stood on land. The panic in my heart grew, I didn't know what to think. This is where it starts getting blurry. I don't know how long we waited for rescue personnel to get there, but in that time I remember grabbing my friends and saying with what little breath I had, "That's my dad in there"..... "My dad" stuff like that. I was in shock at that point.
Rescue personnel arrived and began clearing the beach of un-needed bystanders. They said my family could stay. Our eyes were glued to my dad. My sister said that she saw my dad raise his hand for help, I don't remember seeing that. She left with some of our friends at that point, I know some of my friends stayed, but workers made them leave. I was alone a little bit. I told a rescue worker that it was my dad in the water and he said something into the walky-talky. I used my dad's phone, low on battery, to call my mom, she could hear the panic in my voice - although I was clear in what I told her, she kept saying that she couldn't understand me - so I had to keep repeating myself; the wind was so loud it made it so difficult. She couldn't believe it. Then I told her I had to go after trying to get her out of the shock, I had to have told her the story five times. I hung up and called my grandma, she answered and I told her what was happening. I asked her to pray, I spent some of the time on the phone with her praying. At this point all I could manage to say was "Please Jesus" mentally and physically.
Mrs. Corrigan had found a way to join me on the beach, was comforting me, trying to get my to breath - offering a comforting touch - I didn't know how much that helped. I couldn't breathe - there was so much running through my head. I kept switching calls with my mom and my grandma. Every - now -and - again I think I would see my dad and freak out and scream "There he is!" - but then to find it was just a wave or a buoy. I kept imagining the rescue workers pulling him out of the water and he would be okay and I would run to him the the water and hug him and how much things would change that he almost died. The hope. Oh wow. I can't say how much I would give for that. I was crying, but without realizing it - I can barely describe it. I can't tell you how many times workers came up to me and asked me where I last saw my dad. I was happy to help, and told them the same spot each time - they couldn't see him - I couldn't anymore either. When I was on the phone with my grandma, she began praying in tongues and I thought she was breaking up with me. I laughed about it. I can't believe I laughed. I was hardly in control of what I was doing, I was in such a haze.
They pulled someone out of the lake. I kept asking "is it my dad?!" over and over. It was the girl he went in to save. "It's not my dad" I think I said it out loud. I was so - there was no emotions that I can compare it to. My knees gave out ; I just felt, sobbing like I have never before. It's still so surreal to me. Mrs. Corrigan knelt beside me, comforting me. Then the water came up and got my purple shorts with black details soaked. It was the "get up" I needed. I got up and I told Mrs. Corrigan and the officer they had assigned to me "I need to be with my sister, she needs me." That was the moment the Big sister kicked in. The feeling of responsibility. They took me off that God-fosraken beach, up to the parking lot were my sister was waiting. She looked at me, hopeful - even though her tears streaked her face. Then she saw my face, we didn't need to say anything - she started crying. The pain that engulfed my heart, good lord. It still hurts. I tried to hug her, but it was cut short. I can't remember why.
Mom and my brother and uncle and aunt showed up, followed by my grandma and aunt and other family, as well as pastors from our church. My younger brother was at a friends house and didn't find out till later that night. Some friends were able to get in to the parking lot and see us. The moms of the friends that were there stayed with my mom, we were never alone- and that was good. My mom, brother and sister and I were waiting in the van. It all felt like a movie, there had to be like 3 fire trucks, 4 ambulances, a ton of cop cars, a rescue boat, a helicopter and people everywhere. The press was across the street. You see this kind of stuff on the news everyday and you never think it could happen to you. But it happened to me. I keep walking back and forth from the van to the water fountain to fill up my fiji water bottle. It was so windy, I was freezing and exhausted. I just wanted to stop thinking. Someone gave me a blanket, but it was so thin it did nothing. I just wanted to sleep. I laid it the back seat of the van trying to take a nap, I still had hope. But as I was unsuccessfully attempting to sleep, my uncle - a paramedic, who was helping with the search for his brother - came over to the van to talk to my mom. "The water's cold, but not cold enough." What do you mean?" my mom asked. "If the water is cold enough it can preserve someone's organs so that they have a better chance that they could be resuscitated. But the water's not that cold and it has been so long......" I knew. My dad was dead and there was no hope. I gave up on taking a nap. My mind was two thoughts away from bursting open.
Soon after, two officers pulled my mom and grandma aside, on to the grass. We watched from the car as they told my mom that they were no longer looking for her husband, they were looking for his body. The image is burnt into my mind, my mom falling to the ground, like I did, but slower. My grandma trying to hold her up, but then falling with my mom in pain. Let me tell you something worst than the feeling of grief, which - if you can take my word for it- is the second worst feeling on the earth. The worst feeling in the entire world is seeing the two people I love most it this world, hurting like that. I wish I could have plunged my hand into my chest and ripped my heart out. That would have hurt less then what I was feeling in that moment. We talked, and waited - came up with a plan for that night. Just as we were pulling out of the parking lot, the same two offers came up to my moms car window - they had found his body- it had just washed up on the beach. My heart fell. broken. crush. ruined. Shattered. I didn't want feel.
One year ago, I drove away from the worst day of my life.
This year has been.....the worst year of my life. But there was. so. much. good. laced with all the bad.
I just want to say thank you, without your love, support and prayer this year could have been...oh my word - you have no idea. Thank you, thank you, thank you.
My dad was a hero, he was an extraordinary father, a faithful and loving husband, a wonderful and caring son, a beloved brother and a world-class friend. He was a man after God's heart, blessed with wisdom and leadership. He was blessed by God with so many talents. He was the wisest and kindest person you could have ever met. He was a rare kind of man that I took advantage of sometimes. All my life I will look for a man that loves the lord with the same passion that my dad did. My dad left a legacy that will live on and on. He will never ever be forgotten. He was a man of the utmost significance.
I look forward to the day when my dad welcomes me into eternity. I know he is with both is heavenly and earthly father. He is in a place with no more pain, no stress, no tears. He is witnessing new colors and worshipping our God is his divine presence. Glory to my Savior in the highest. For He is mending my seemingly "un-mendable" heart. He is holding it in his hands and slowly sewing every shattered piece back together; whispering words of his unfathomable love into every stitch. Glory to God in the highest.
