We Were Louder

After returning home Sunday night from Virginia, I had only assumed that things would start to get a bit easier. After all, I had just braved through a 3rd service for my daughter and finally felt like she was truly at rest. With her rest, maybe mine would come as well. But it hasn't. Instead, I feel completely the opposite. 

I thought the last 4 weeks were more then I would ever be able to bare. Facing friends and relatives who only had to look me in the eye to see my sorrow has been pain staking. Each person I've faced has a different perspective, a different way of handling their grief, a different way of handling me. 
I've found for some, they need comforting too and somehow my instinct to nurture kicks right in and I am able to give them a smile and a hug and tell them that it will be okay. And I haven't found it to be weird or unnatural or difficult. In a way, for a few seconds or minutes, it takes the weight off of me. That huge amount of pressure and painful mass of heartache gets lifted for a time and I can give love to someone else who needs me. But it doesn't last. It's only temporary and I'm left with the load to bear again.

I know that I'm not alone. I get it. Everyone is sad with me and for me and misses her as much as I do. Everywhere you turn you can see her. It's almost maddening. But I know I'm not alone. 

I've had to go to the grocery store just a few times in the last month. I don't know and I do know why that is such a difficult place for me. When I walk in the front door, I'm directly facing the floral department. Where I'm reminded of buying her sunflowers for her Senior Night, or how much she hated flowers, or how many flowers were sent to our home or the funeral home in the weeks after her passing, or just the balloons that I had bought so many of over the years for her birthday's and celebrations. When I enter the produce section, I'm surrounded by grapefruit that I don't have to buy anymore because I only really ever bought them for her. I've got Gatorade on my left that she would drink by the gallons sometimes. And the bowls of fruit I'd buy for her that in recent years, she wouldn't really eat from and they'd be thrown away. In the cereal aisle are her must-have Lucky Charms. Down the chip aisle are her infamous Hot Fries and in the dairy are her rolls of cookie dough addictions. I walk down the toiletry aisle and I'm reminded that now I'm the only girl in the house and when I used to have to buy 2 of everything, I'm left only to worry about myself and my cosmetic needs. I won't have to buy 2 hairsprays so she doesn't steal them from my room and I won't have to worry about if she has mascara or eyeliner since those were her only two makeup staples. Whatever razors I buy will be just fine because even though she preferred the cheap straight razors, I can save money and just get the pack I need. Every time I walk in the door of the grocery store, I look for a certain cashier she played basketball with a few years ago and I get nervous that she's working. I used to always make sure I went in her line to say hi, but will probably avoid her line so I don't really have to make eye contact. As much as I hated grocery shopping before, it's complete torture now. 
This week we went to have ice cream at the new Planet Smoothie. I knew my son needed to get out of the house so I just did it. When we were all leaving, I saw one of J's best friends working at the pizza shop next door. I wanted to say hi and give her a hug. She had stayed with us a few weeks last year and she felt familiar and like family to me. I hugged her and she asked how we were doing. I just looked her in the eye for a brief second and shook my head 'no'. I offered her to come by the house anytime, but I knew before I said it that she wouldn't be able to do that. She was polite and said she would. But I know she can't. As I walked away, I started to cry. As much as I tried, I couldn't stop and spent the next 15 minutes walking the grocery store crying. we needed some things and I thought I could do it.. But I was wrong. Her friend was a reminder of a time when Justice wanted to be the absolute best friend she could be. And begged me to help her do that. Her friend was a reminder of Homecoming, and girls being girls and my beautiful princess. But most of all, that she wasn't going to come over because, of course, her friend wouldn't be here. 

While I cried shopping for Pop Tarts and coffee creamer, my son and Mike tried to comfort me. It didn't help. I came home, walked upstairs and curled up in my bed to continue my agony. Soon, both of the boys came to be by my side. I held my son with his head on my chest. I knew he had come in the door and had gone to his room to cry as well. I told him that I was sorry I couldn't stop crying, but that I didn't think I'd stop any time soon. I missed his sister and I needed to cry. As he laid with me quietly, I was reminded of when Justice was little. The kids were different in what comforted them. For him, he calmed with a strong pat on the back. It was the only thing to quiet him. For her, she liked her back scratched. I told him, with a smile, about her saying "Itchy my back mommy. Itchy!" I laughed. She never once, even as she grew up, asked me to "Scratch" her back. It was always "Itchy". I told him she hated when I'd get stuck in one place as I got tired. She'd always tell me to move my hand around or just stop. In a nice way of course, but she had to have her whole back scratched. For him, I would sing "Dragon Tales" and "Traveling Soldier". The second song is a little sad, but it had a low even town and he'd be asleep by the end almost every time. For her, I remember the first time I sang her song to her. "How do I live without you?" I sang that to her giving her a bath when she was about 1 1/2 years old. With a little "itchy" and this ironic song, she was always asleep in no time too. I told him that there's always a time when a parent just doesn't get to do certain things for their children anymore. One day I won't be able to just jump in and snuggle him and smooth his hair or kiss his cheek. As a mom, just one day, those things are gone. But for me, now....everything for her is gone. 

I needed to write tonight because I was just staring and the new pile of tissues by my bedside. The ones from the night before are in the trash now. That's the routine. Cry at night, lay the tissues down, clean them up in the morning, make another pile the next night. I hate the night time. It's the worst part of the day. 

The last few days, I feel like that's all I've done is cry. No matter what I'm doing, I'm tearing up. My chest muscles hurt from straining when I'm really crying hard. I can't watch a movie, or move furniture, or cook or put my son to bed, take the dogs outside or stand out front in the morning to see my son off to school without crying. I feel like my brain is going to split in half and my heart is going to burst.

Tonight, it was the stupidest thing. We're watching the movie "Holmes" and I start thinking of myself as an old person. I start thinking of when I'm 20, 30 or 40 years older and telling people that "I had a daughter once. She was the most beautiful thing I've even known. She died in an accident she caused herself."

DAMN IT! I DON'T WANT TO TELL PEOPLE THAT I HAD A  DAUGHTER ONCE.

Jesus! I don't want to look backward and think of her! I'm supposed to be looking forward. I'm supposed to be up her butt bugging her about every stupid little thing she doesn't want to take care of. I'm supposed to be giving her high fives and hugs for her little wins in life. I'm supposed to be shedding tears of joy when she makes me more proud of her then the day before. I'm supposed to be helping her plan her next big step in life. I'm supposed to be giving her relationship advice and telling her never to do anything I've done. I'm supposed to be getting calls for her for gas money. I'm supposed to be holding her hand when she's at the doctors. I'm supposed to be figuring out what in the world to get her for Christmas this year besides clothes or jewelry because I want her to have a more meaningful Christmas. I'm supposed to be talking to her right now about where she wants to go for winter break and if we're taking a cruise or going to Vegas. I'm supposed to be helping her build a relationship with her older brother. I'm supposed to be there when she has my first grandchild, the spitting image of her and all her radiance so I can relive her childhood watching a little girl bouncing around with long beautiful curls in her hair. 

But I can't. And I won't. Instead I'm left to pick out which pictures from her collection of things should sit beside her urn on my piano. I'm left to figure out a place in the house I can sit and be with her. I'm left to force my son to school when I know he's about to have a terrible day. I'm left to ask her basketball team to spend time with me because I need teenage girl's laughing and eating pizza and cookie dough Oreo's around me. I'm left to give my son the opportunity to represent his sister at a basketball game and then comfort him when he gets home as he tells me how much he misses her. And then I'm left to lay in bed at night with a picture on my phone of our last vacation together and feel like I'm absolutely going to die from the pain of missing her. 

I don't want to tell people I had a daughter once. Right now, everyone knows her. They know me and my family. They feel our loss. But in a few years, people will move on and grow a part. And new people will enter our lives. And we'll be explaining to them about this girl I had in my life for 18 years, 2 months, 2 weeks and 2 days. She was my daughter. She was the most precious gift God ever gave me and now she's GONE! Just like that. In a few minutes time. Before I could say goodbye. Before I could help her. Before I could hold her hand as she took her last breath as I did when she took her first. 

I want to hear her again. The house is so quiet. And while she wasn't always here, especially through the last year and becoming an adult, when she was home, she was noisy. And we were....louder. But the beat of the drum and the symbols and trumpets in the house are just quiet. There's no music left. There's no heartbeat or pulse. Maybe I'm the only one that feels this way. Maybe not. But in so many ways, our days revolved around her. And we looked forward to hearing the front door open. And the fourth seat at the table getting set because she was home for dinner that night. And we looked forward to her opening the refrigerator and listening to her complain about the lack of food. When we always had a lot of food, just maybe not Hot Fries, Cookie Dough, Tea or Chips and Salsa. 

I don't even know how to breathe anymore. Everything I thought I knew about myself and my life just blew away. Now, I'm clueless. My brain hurts as much as my heart. Because I can't figure it out. I keep asking myself "Where IS she?!?!" She can't possibly just be on printed paper or even in decorated metal can. That can't be. IT CAN'T!! There's no dimensional version of her left. There's nothing and I don't understand! I just don't. And I miss her so much. And when my son picks up my phone and texts her to tell her how much he misses her and wants a sign to know she's there, I don't believe this. Where did she go?! God please tell me WHERE IS SHE?!

My Ulogy for Justice's Memorial 11/7/2015

I have never been able to put into words, as much as I’ve tried, a thorough description of Justice. I’ve struggled with this so much that on her Basketball Senior night this past year, I had to ask her friends to send me 1 word that they would use to describe her. I took those words and put them onto a poster, hoping that what I couldn’t do, would be articulated through their vision of her.

I think if that was how I had to describe her, I could narrow down all of the adjectives and just sum it up with…

Justice was a vision.

She had immeasurable beauty as we all know. That was the easy part to recognize. At 5’11”, 140 lbs, caramel skin, honey brown eyes, huge curly hair (when she didn’t straighten it) and a smile so big and bright it out shined the sun - she was the girl who stopped the room when she walked in. Even with her hair up and work out clothes on, her long arms, square shoulders, long legs and tiny frame commanded the room effortlessly. One of the basketball moms told me “you know when you watch a movie and the starlet walks into the scene and the wind starts blowing her hair and everything is in slow motion?” She said “that’s how I felt every time she walked in the gym. Every time. I couldn’t wait to see her play.” I kind of laughed, but she was right. All eyes were usually glued to her in whatever setting she was in and whatever media you viewed her on.

During her time at Barbizon modeling school, both in Tampa and in Richmond, they assured me that Justice was going to be able to go anywhere she wanted in the world to model. She…had…it.

But besides her easily recognizable outward beauty, she was also a vision of inward beauty. There were few people that she didn’t have wrapped around her finger. It was easy for her to charm anyone with her smile, but even easier for her to charm them with her heart. She was genuinely one of the kindest people I have ever know. She has done some great works in her short life, and several things I didn’t even know she had done until recently.

Justice would cry at the thought of child or adult suffering. She made me pull over and buy a meal to feed a homeless man on the bench. She volunteered on occasion at the animal shelter. She volunteered last summer at a local youth basketball camp. When she got her car, she blew through gas money. It took me a minute to figure out why, but she was picking up all of her friends who had to walk to school. She had me buy single yellow roses so we could deliver them to the elderly women at her grandma’s work on Mother’s Day. Things that I didn’t know she had done had the greatest affect on her friends.

Before recently, I didn’t know that Justice was always the first one to greet a new person in class, encourage them to sit near her and introduced them to other people. She didn’t just do this in the last few years, she’d been doing it since she was very young. And several credit her for their confidence today because of her welcoming nature. I also didn’t know that Justice would be given credit by several friends for their ability to graduate high school. But they told us that if it weren’t for her texts and calls of encouragement, and letting them know that they could be successful long after high school, they may have given up and quit. I was informed in June of this year that J had updated her driver’s license to be an organ donor. And after she passed away, they were able to use the lens of her eye to help 2 people see again. For this, I couldn’t be more proud.

Justice was also a vision of fun, laughter and enthusiasm. She had a big, loud laugh to match her smile. Her basketball team shared that she would get all the girls together in the locker room before games and make them “twerk” to livin’ them up and take the pressure off. She was the bravest person I know and didn’t understand people being afraid. So with her love of scary movies, big roller coasters and anything that made you want to dance, sing or enjoy the moment a bit more, she would do it and encourage you to do it as well. She was the friend everyone wanted because of her love of life, people, laughter and most of all, children.

From the time she could say what she wanted to be, Justice knew she was going to be a pediatrician. She has never once wavered from that. Her grace with children was remarkable. She immediately gravitated towards any young child in the room. She always said they were “soooo cute” and focused most of her attention on the little one. I recently learned that when she dated Carlos in 11^th grade, that when Justice came over, she would have to switch clothes with his 2 year old sister. She loved J so much and wanted to wear her shirts like a dress. Justice always complied and through on sweats and a t-shirt to make Leila feel like a beautiful princess like Justice. During high school, J took classes around the medical subject. Some of her happiest high school memories were going to the elementary schools and doing clinical with the kids. She never missed an opportunity to be with children. She spent many years as a babysitter in the community, which included children who were handicapped as well as several with severe to mild autism. She was very successful at her job too. She started her first job at Justice clothing store on black Friday 2 years ago. Her boss tells me that she was “uniquely gifted at her job”. Again, her way with children made them feel at ease, feel special and most of all, feel beautiful.

She shared a compliment she got at work her first summer and received a commendation for. A young girl, about 10, came into Justice and had a large scar on her chest from an open heart surgery. The girl was looking for shirts and scarves that would cover her scar. Justice spent nearly an hour working with the girl to pick out outfits that made her feel better. But, during the entire interaction, the girl’s mother observed Justice telling her how beautiful she was, that she didn’t need to cover her scar and that she she wear it more as a badge of honor. J explained to the young lady that she should feel very proud of that little line on her chest. “It shows that you are strong and brave” she told her. “None of your friends can say that they had such a surgery and lived through it. You should be proud of it”. By the end of their shopping experience, the girl’s mother was in tears at the register and shared that no one has ever made her daughter feel so good and confident about her scar. She was so grateful for Justice’s encouragement and I have no doubt, that little girl left with more than a bag of new clothes that day. She left with a little part of Justice’s spirit inside of her.

I want you to know that Justice lived a very full life. She never missed a day to play, sing, reach out, seek adventure, and be the best friend she could be. She had an action packed life. She really filled her 18 years with some great memories. In her time, here are some of the things she got to do.

1. White water rafting in North Carolina
2. Snorkel on the coral reefs in Belize
3. Road mopeds along the beautiful shores of Cozumel
4. Rope Swing into the lake in Georgia & North Carolina
5. Climbed waterfalls
6. See the Harlem Globetrotters and even make friends with their tallest player, Stretch, who was the only person who ever made her feel short
7. Attend many concerts from the Cheetah Girls to several years of the Warp Tour, A huge list of hip hop artists, Miley Cyrus, Bruno Mars and see her “future husband” Lil Wayne. She even became friends with a rock star, the drummer from T-Mills, who happened to be a very religious person and encouraged her to do great things
8. She road jet skis in the Gulf of Mexico
9. Swam with sea turtles and sting rays in Grand Cayman
10. Climb all 5 levels of a Tree and Rope course, taken her 3 stories above ground and back down a 1500 ft. zip live that she didn’t even bat an eye at.

And while Justice was always up for Big Adventures, she was always down for the smallest ones too. From riding swans in Baltimore, to visiting the Statue of Liberty and 9/11 Memorial, joining the Muscular Dystrophy Association Muscle Walks each year , digging up clams on the beach or just bumping music in the car along the dark, winding back roads here in VA, it was always her will to live life to the fullest. And I thank God that she did that.

Justice was a vision of beauty, a vision of kindness and thoughtfulness, she was a vision of joy, a vision of courage, a vision of friendship and above all, a vision of God’s grace. She was the greatest gift both in person and now in spirit. I’m so very lost without her. But although I can never watch her leap like a gazelle to block a basketball, or make her brother laugh about nothing or see her hold up her phone in front of her face for her 10^th selfie of the day, I know that she is with us and my vision of her will never be lost.

She is still with us

Justice always believed in the paranormal. One of her favorite pass times was to watch scary movies. Every scary movie she could get her hands on. Few of them scared her, but being the adrenaline junkie that she was, they fed her energy for a few hours.

Recently a story was told to her about an event this summer following a family members death. In this story, the family was home and one person arrived. He closed the door behind him as he entered. The front door popped open. Which apparently never happens. He walked back over to close it, walked away and the door opened again. The comment was made that "there goes Larry and Leona". They were the two members of the home, together since they were preteens and married for their lifetimes. She passed away 3 years ago from cancer and Larry had just passed away from cancer as well. 

While this story isn't relevant to my notes, I want you to know that Justice was extremely moved by it. It made her cry each time she shared it and even played a part in her going back to church recently. Even though she wasn't witness to it, she was moved enough to share it at Larry's memorial service. My girl feared talking in front of a crowd, but she stood up and shared this in front of 100+ people.

So now, three weeks have passed since my baby left her earthly form. And I am left to gather new stories of her, in their paranormal form. Because of these shared experiences, I know that 

She is still with us.

• On the night of her death, she came to Carlos in a dream. He said it "was like old times and I woke up so happy. But then you called that morning to tell me she had passed away the night before."
• Mahalia says that she, her mother and her grandmother had 'the curse'. She said that they could all see dead people. She awoke a few nights after your death with you staring at her face. Looking right in her eyes, you said "pray for me". 
• Randall awoke one night and said he saw you sitting on the edge of his bed wearing a white hoodie. The hat pulled around your head you said "I love you."
• Mike was sleeping and heard you yell "MOM!" like you were still in your room. He said that it was loud enough to wake him. 
• Our hairdresser, Lauren, is very close to God. She speaks to him throughout the day and is filled with Christ's love. When I was at the funeral home, I text her and asked if she would do your hair for the funeral. She said she would be honored, but I was the one who was honored. This was probably the toughest things I could ask anyone to do for you. To be with you, before you were ready to be seen. I couldn't do it, I was amazed that she agreed. Lauren knew this would be tough for her too. But she prayed and prayed and promised me that if she couldn't do it, she'd call me that Friday. She and I talked a few days before she was going to the funeral home and she shared this story with me. Lauren's daughter Shayla had been on Netflix watch Good Luck Charlie. They had an errand to run and left the house. When they returned, they were in the kitchen and started hearing the laptop playing. Shayla had not been to the device since their return home. When Lauren went over to the laptop to see why it had turned on unexpectedly, she said "Christine, you will never guess what show was playing. Christine, it was Justice League". She was floored, but knew that that was your way of asking her to do your hair and makeup.
• Raven was upstairs in my bathroom getting ready and Towanda and Heather arrived at the house to ride to the candlelight vigil for you. I was outside greeting them and my phone rang. It was Raven. I said "why is she calling me? She's right up stairs!" and laughed. When I said hello, I had to repeat myself a few times. I laughed again and said "Raven, you butt dialed me." When Heather, Towanda and I went back in the house, Raven was just coming from upstairs. Her phone was by the kitchen sink and had in fact, called me. 
• I was on the phone within the first few days and had a few glitches of noise through the phone that we don't normally get. 
• Eileen went to pick up her phone from the counter and your picture was on the screen. Not a picture she'd recently viewed, but one from about 2 years ago that would have been buried in her photo albums. 
• I woke up about 3 days after your accident and my phone was on a screen through the Onstar app. We have 2 cars listed on there. The screen was on the page for "J's Sonic". 
• Ashley said that her mom asked her to get ready to go somewhere. They have a makeup mirror that sits on the table. It suddenly fell over and broke on the floor. 
• Ashley was at Walgreens. As she swiped her debit card, the machine turned off and all the lights in the store dimmed. The cashier says, "that never happens, swipe again." Ashley asked her if it was going to charge her card twice. The lady said that the transaction hadn't gone through. So Ashley swiped her card. Again, the machine dimmed and all the lights in the store went down. She knew it was you.
• Arius came upstairs the other night and asked what I wanted. I told him nothing, why? He said because I had just called him. I assured him I hadn't. He asked Mike, who also had not called him. He said "someone called my name mom, was it you?" I told him no again. He said "I was sitting at the kitchen table and I heard someone say "Arius" in my right ear, like it was coming from the living room." I made sure he knew it was you. About an hour or two later, Mike came into Arius's room as I was tucking him in. He said 'you called?' I looked at him strangely and said 'no'. He said "oh, it sounded like you called my name". I told him "um, no, we weren't even talking."
• Manny said that he talked to you and you said you were okay.
• Your Nanny has had the most interaction with you. You loved and trusted her like no other person in your life, so I can see why you're reaching out to her the most. The night after you died, she prayed. She prayed to God to let her speak with you. And he did. Nanny said that she had a conversation with you that was as clear as if you were standing in the room. She told me that you said "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to do it." Nanny said "I know, but you heart your momma so bad." You said "Tell her I love her so very much." Nanny said "And you left your brother all alone." You said "I'll always watch over him Nanny. But I'm okay and I'm happy now." Nanny also mentioned that you said to "make my funeral the bomb". And while she didn't understand it, and we kind of laughed, she would have had no way of knowing that on my whiteboard at work, the last time you were there, you wrote "You're the bomb" and dated it with a drawing of a bomb.
• Nanny also had an incident that really freaked her out. She was researching Intermittent Explosive Disorder and found a page on LiveScience.com about Explosive Anger in Teens. She wanted to see if it could cause you to black out, which it can. When she hit the back button, she noticed something on the screen. She went to the previous page one more time and hit Back again. In the top left corner, by itself, with no ads, was your name via your company Logo "Justice". And she swears she heard you say "that's me."
  

Writing this on November 3rd, I intend on editing this blog as we keep having our Strange occurrences.  To us, they're not strange at all. We know you love us. Just keep them coming! We miss you!

Love, Mom


Additions since original Post

• Anthony was night fishing at Anclote Pier. Using my advice, he spoke out loud to you. He felt terrible for not coming to your funeral, but just couldn't face it. He really needed your comfort. As he talked with you, he felt an overwhelming calm while he was asking for a sign. As the calm came over him, his fishing line started zinging. He knew it was your way of telling him you were there. And he had a huge smile on his face, he said. He knew it was you.
• Emily and Brian's daughter Megan got really upset one night this week. She had gone to bed and came out crying, upset about you. Emily and her talked for a while about you and Megan went to bed. The next afternoon, Emily said there was a double rainbow. It was so big and bright. She called the whole family out to see it. While they were looking at it, Megan went to check the mail. In the mail was a catalog from Justice. Little Meggie said that that was Justice telling her not to be sad, that it would be ok. 
• Cheryl wrote me and said "The day we found out about Justice, Keara had pulled up her Twitter page and we were looking at pics of Justice. After browsing through the pics and videos on there for a while, I decided that I was going to change my cover photo on FB to a picture of Justice. I went to my FB page and hit the browse button to upload a pic I already had, and whn my pics opened there was an entire file on there with all of the pics off Justice's Twitter page. All the pics on her account were downloaded on my laptop in a single file. Now I might have mistaken this if it was my old laptop, but this is a new laptop and I don't have much saved on it. However, I knew I didn't download any pics from Twitter....yet there they all were. And when I say all....I mean every damn emoji that she used was there too. It took me an hour to delete all the emojis and have just photos left. I remember at the time thinking it was a little weird. Now I guess it was just J letting us know she was there."
• 
  
• Ashley's mom scheduled a last minute cruise for her for Ashley's birthday this past week. They went to jump into the water from a concrete ledge and spotted on the side of the ledge, that "And Justice" were spray painted on the wall. It was your way of wishing her Happy Birthday.
• I am told that the swans that live in Lake Wilderness usually stay up on the other end of the lake. But during your memorial, they arrived near the beach and clubhouse. The lake was so still and calm and I hadn't seen them yet. As I threw my petals in, a large swan flew around the bend and across the edge of the water. It was really beautiful. 

2 Weeks

It's 5 minutes until the end of the day that marks 2 weeks. 11:55pm, October 26, 2015 and I made it through the day. Last night I couldn't sleep. I lay in bed reading, doing everything possible to distract my mind and my tears.  But as soon as I closed the book, a little after 3am, it rushed in.

By this hour, 2 weeks ago, 2 Monday's ago, I was doubled over on the floor of the living room, my mom trying to calm me. Just 2 hours before that, I was in the back of a cop car being escorted home. In the back of the car, there was a small opening that had a tube that blew colder, fresher air then the stale air trapped between the middle glass and the back surrounding windows. The officer allowed me to roll the window down just slightly, but if it weren't for the pipe through the middle barrier, I'm not sure I would have been able to breathe. I put my face into that pipe and took long deep breaths of cool air and let it blow on my face. Either way, no matter what, I couldn't sit up anyway. I was doubled over in the officer's car too, just like I was 2 weeks ago, at this hour, on the living room floor.

I needed the officer to drive me home, leaving my car parked on the side of the road just 100 feet or so from yours. I walked into the house, dizzy and faint and barely able to stand before I saw my mom at the dining table. She looked up and asked if you were ok. I burst into tears and could only say, "she didn't make it."
My mother's reaction was almost exactly like mine. I think we both repeated the word "no" through wails of disbelief more times then I can relay. For me, I repeated "no" to the Detective who explained your accident to me as I sat by a tree waiting for any information. And as she told me of your passing in the ambulance on the way to the hospital, I buried my head in my knees and rolled to the ground crying repeatedly "no".
But it didn't matter how many times. How argumentative or stern, or weakly I protested, the answer was "yes".


On this night, 2 weeks ago, I learned that my very worst nightmare had come true. I learned that yes, you had been in a car accident and yes, you had passed away.


The last 2 weeks have been kind of blur. Sometimes quite literally as tears are uncontrollable right now. Sometimes just because there's so much commotion. Sometimes because there's so many decisions and a long list of to-do's. Sometimes because people have so many questions and I am fortune, or unfortunate enough to answer them. Things have not stopped swirling around and life didn't actually stop for me to just focus and fade away.

The first set of obligations was to take the time to call the most important people in our lives, especially those I thought You'd want to hear this news directly from me. I reached out to your best friends, your closest family and repeated over and over that "I have some bad news. I need to talk to you. Justice was in an accident last night and she didn't make it." I could barely get the sentences out. Over and over I heard screams and cries on the other end that mirrored my own. It was torture. Worse than hurting myself, it was a grave reminder of how hurt others are going to be without you. I hated making every call. It was just one of the many things that just haven't been fair to have to do.

My second set of obligations after the first 24 hours, was fulfilling my legal duties to care for you body. Isn't that disgusting to say? This  artful organism was now reduced to "body" that someone needed me to make plans for. When the medical examiner told me that I need to contact a funeral home so he could release you, it felt as if they were trying to still protect you and keep you safe. While, ironically, that's exactly what none of us were doing very well. I couldn't make the calls to any home the first day and a half. I wasn't ready as your mother to make plans for you to leave.

When I finally gained the courage to make the call, I only was able to do it after a VERY long, painful morning of figuring out what to say to them when I did call. Would I bury or cremate you? That was the decision I now faced that I never thought I'd have to make.

That morning, on Wednesday, was possibly worse than the night you died. By that morning, it was sinking in. I was shaking and crying and pacing the kitchen floor like a trapped animal. I was in a cage I wouldn't be released from, no matter how badly I needed a way out. You've said before that you wanted to be cremated. But it just wasn't that simple. So many questions went through my mind on what was the right thing for my baby. How do I lay her to rest for eternity on this earth in a way that kept me from feeling you were really gone? After several hours and more phone calls and unyielding tears, I made the decision to cremate the beautiful creature that God had blessed me with just 18 years, 2 months, 2 weeks and 2 days before. In the end, I needed to know where you were and that the place you rest was going to always be with me and those that loved you most. It was the hardest decision of my life.

Going through all of the phone calls and steps to find details and answers, as well as move forward with plans to get us all through your funeral to get to the day I'll bring you home, is like I said before - blurry. Friends and family have brought so many blessings and comfort and even laughs that I can't ever begin to thank them or repay them.

Your brothers are who I'm fighting for now. The sorrow that overwhelms me at night. The tears that creep up when I see so many things that used to bring me joy, but now make me sad. The emptiness I feel because a part of me died with you. And the utter confusion I have been facing when trying to figure out if and how this can even be real. I have to fight those things. Every hour I just want to crawl across the floor and find something to hold on tightly too. Every hour I want to sleep. Every hour I want to scream. But they need me. They don't want to see me cry. Sadness is not what they're used to and I'm depended upon for normalcy and even smiles and laughter.

I'm not going to be able to hide from this. I know I can't run, although every part of me wants to. But I have certainty that there's no where to retreat. I could have been a better mother. I could have been so much more for you. I'm still here for you. If you need me and you need to talk, we'll make it happen.
Those people you came to, the one's who saw you, talked to you, dreamed of you...they're so very lucky. Because 2 weeks ago my worst nightmare came true. I had my last conversation, my last I love you, my last "I'll talk to you later", my last text and my last day with my perfectly imperfect you.

Did You Know?

Today my intention was to repost a poem I wrote in 2012, a day after the Sandy Hook Shootings. On Dec 15th, 2012 I was just cleaning around the house. As I vacuumed and scrubbed, I kept hearing little phrases in my head. Not the kind where I need a doctor, but the kind that made me stop mid-cleaning and just write. My poem Did You Know was written in the view of a child in Heaven. She was telling her parents that she'd was in good hands with angels surrounding her and in God's comfort.
That Monday, my local radio station, CBS Radio's Wild 94.1, allowed listeners to call in and express their grief. This is something I'm always so encouraged by. Wild has always allowed listeners to spend hours calling in after serious events have occurred in our nation. I had the poem with me on the seat of my car and decided during my drive to work to call in so I could share it. I felt the words weren't my own and that they were written with God's grace. They were meant to be shared.
After about 20 minutes on hold, I got through. I was in traffic and felt I needed to pull over for safety. I was on the phone with 2 of the station DJ's. I was very nervous, but more so, emotional. I read my simple poem and they were stunned. They said that people were immediately texting in and even grown men text in to say they were crying in their cars. They asked me again to clarify when I wrote this and I explained my house cleaning inspiration.
I soon got a call from the station asking if I could email them the poem to share on their website. Of course! They posted the poem on wild941.com and it exploded. They called and told me within a few days it was the most hits and shares they had had on their site in years! Over 6000 likes and hundreds of shares and comments. I was humbled.
They mentioned to me that Mike Posner, Hip Hop artist, had just written a song called "Heaven" based around his emotions for the Sandy Hook tragedy. They asked if I would come to the station and do a read so that they could blend "Heaven" with "Did You Know". I was excited but also overwhelmed by the response.
By Tuesday night, I was at the station reading through Did You Know. It only took me a couple of times and we were done. The programmer blended the songs beautifully. The intent was to play the song after a 26 bell toll honoring those that died on the Friday, a week after they lost their lives. It was a somber time. The song played on Friday and my boss and I were at work listening to the station. Tears poured down my cheeks.
The song Heaven by Mike Posner featuring Did You Know by Christine Kimball was shared all over the country by CBS radio. It played all through the weekend. Again, I was thrilled and moved by the response.
Today, I wanted to attach links in this blog to those posts. But I can't find them. I know that the Newtown, Ct. shootings were very controversial, debated and possibly a conspiracy. It seems many of it's traces have been erased online. I don't know the truth. I would hope that if they really happened, that people would honor them as such and remember the families who lost their baby. If they were a big government hoax, then I hope that the song Heaven and my poem still stand on their own as a way for anyone who has lost their child to find a bit of comfort. But I'm afraid it will not reach as far as it did with the connection of Newtown events.
I'm going to post my poem here. By itself and still in its innocence with words I really do not feel I wrote.

Did You Know?

By Christine Kimball

Dec. 15, 2012

Hi Mommy! Hey Dad! Hi Nana and Pa! Hi Whiskers and Flash!

I’m here with God, and so are my friends. He’s giving us hugs.

He doesn’t want you to worry. We’re surrounded by love.

The last time I smiled at you, was night before last.

When you pulled up the covers, you were making me laugh.

That book you read was always your best.

The voices were funny and put me to rest.

Did you know the hug you gave me at school in the morning,

Was the one hug you’d hold on to while you were in mourning?

Did you know my Christmas concert would be the last time I’d sing?

Or the trip to the park would be my last on a swing?

Nana, did you know when you left this weekend, that it’d be our last kiss?

Or my whisper to Santa would be my last wish?

And when I was running, I tripped and I fell.

That was the last time Daddy’s kiss made me well.

Whiskers and Flash – you always make me laugh!

When I pet you goodbye and you thought I’d be home…

Well God decided today that a new path I’d roam.

Mommy, I’m sorry! I left you such a mess!

But I know you’ll forgive me, ‘cause Mommy you’re the best!

Daddy thank you for taking me door to door!

You encouraged me as a mermaid, to keep getting more.

This summer I swam for the very first time.

Papa lifted my chin and told me to “keep trying”.

My socks are everywhere, and probably in the car.

Did you know I’d be here today? It just seems so far!

But God reassured me, that you’d all be okay.

If each of you loves me and continues to pray.

Did you know I left my homework lying on the table?

We rushed out the door, turn it in if you’re able.

Did you know where I hid my present for you?

I made it with paper and glitter and glue.

I hope you find it, hidden under my bed.

Take down the wreathe and put it on the door instead.

Mommy, did you know that angels are true?

They have big beautiful wings and their smiles remind me of you.

Take my pillow into your room. It smells just like me.

Hug it tight while you cry. I hug it when things are frightening.

Did you know I’d be in heaven, waiting for you?

Nana I beat you! It was such a race!

But Jesus has told me, you’ll be in this place.

I’m waiting for everyone, when you’re ready to come.

There’s no more fears that I have to hide from.

Did you know that I love you? You cannot forget.

That God’s up here with me, and beside him I sit.

Explaining SOTE

Somewhere Over the Easel

Well alright then! The title is colorful and everyone has had to read it twice to make sure they didn't read "Somewhere Over the Rainbow". Now that we've got that clear, let's talk about Somewhere Over the Easel.

I'm Christine. Human mom. Dedicated worker. Part time creative thinker. I also happen to be a little artistic and tiny bit business savvy. Tiny, very tiny. Like bread crumb on the floor tiny. I come from a long line of Human mom's, a slightly shorter line of dedicated workers and an incredibly, extra long (like the movie you wanted to leave an hour ago long) part time creative thinkers.

My home was always filled with my mother's latest crafty creation or small piece of art she spent the weekend making. Visiting my aunt's house, I was surrounded by a million hand sewn crafts including toilet paper roll covers and china dolls with handmade clothes that sat in nearly every corner of the house. At our family reunion, we found that of the 75 or so in attendance, every single one in our bloodline was artistically or musically inclined. The musical roots were the greatest gifts left to us all from generations before. 

I didn't ever think of myself as an artist. I took art classes all through grade school. Painting was my favorite thing to do. A few years ago I painted my first mural. My son wanted a Dr. Seuss room and a simple "Cat in the Hat: theme just wouldn't do. So I painted the first wall as "Oh, The Places You Go". That wasn't enough. Then we moved to wall #2 with "Horton Hears a Hoo". And while Horton was a Hoot to paint, two walls were bare and I just had to paint the Truffula Trees! At that point, I was completely hooked on mural painting. 

Then a friend at work asked me to do a little mural in her brand new 600 sq. ft. market in downtown Tampa, FL. She named the store Duckweed Urban Market because Duckweed is the smallest flowering plant in the world. And if you can imagine a 600 sq. ft. grocery store being the Only grocer in the heart of a major city, you can see why "smallest flowering plant" was an appropriate reference. My friend wanted a geometric design with her Duck logo painted on the walls of her Beer and Wine room. Yes, there's was enough space for a separate room just for alcohol. But I digress. It was referenced by in a newspaper article that these ducks were stickers. I took that as quite a compliment since I spent 18 hours hand painting them!That's precision baby. And no, I didn't use a projector to transfer the image. The store has since expanded to another location and isn't such a tiny flower any more. 

Once I painted my first official business, I knew I was on to something. But more so, my friend believed I was on to something. After many hours and days of talking me into 'doing something' with my talent, I decided she was right and that, if I was going to do anything, I needed a name. 

Today, I can't even remember all the silly things I came up with. I do remember Bandanna Brushstrokes because I always where a bandanna when I paint. (If it matters, I wear a bandanna to keep my hair out of my face without needing a headband. This reduces the headache I'll likely have otherwise). 

Somewhere Over the Easel came to me when I pictured my favorite artists. One in particular- Norman Rockwell. His Saturday Evening Post artwork were always entertaining and natural, quirky but easily could be anyone in my family. I love his painting "Self Portrait" where he is painting himself and he's sitting in the front of the canvas peaking over the easel. The Image he's painting is of a handsome version of himself and not exactly what's in the mirror.  I'm not sure why that one has always stood out to me, but it is my favorite. 

The other reference is the obvious "Somewhere over the  Rainbow" from the Wizard of Oz. There are 2 movies that I couldn't wait to see on TV the one time a year they came on. The Sound of Music and the Wizard of Oz. Their both such great musicals. And when you only get to see them once a year, you really treasure the nights with your family that you finally get to see it again. Recently I attended the 50th Anniversary Sing-A-Long to The Sound of Music at the Tampa Theatre. Thinking now, the last Sing-A-Long I went to was the Wizard of Oz. I guess I really do love those movies!

So, with my love of Normal Rockwell and The Wizard of Oz, that is how Somewhere Over the Easel was born! And I love it! Even if it makes for an extra long email address, I get a smile from everyone I give my email too. I can even hear them smile over the phone when I'm giving it to someone. 

Somewhere Over the Easel reminds me of my childhood. It reminds me of my gifts. It reminds me to look beyond the obvious. To think outside of the box and over the easel into the sunset. It reminds me to paint when I have time. I tells me that dreams do come true when I wish upon a star. It gives me a platform for so many interpretations. It reminds me that people believe in me. I can carry it as a badge of honor with my customers and friends. It reminds me to daydream. It reminds me to do something else whenever I can. It places me in a creative space. It leads me to a path I couldn't express for myself.

Somewhere Over the Easel is so many things to me, both creatively and spiritually. It brought me here to my first blog entry and led you to me.And to me, it's just beautiful.