This has been a post that has taken me a long time to sit down and write. Don't be fooled by the date, I'm writing this almost 8 months after my dad's death. My dad died on May 18th, 2017. He was biking from Lexington, Kentucky to Charlottesville for Morgan's graduation. Early on the morning of May 18th, he was hit by a car and killed instantly. My mom flew to Richmond early on the 18th and then drove to our house from there. She arrived and we got her things settled into the room and then got ready to go to the pool with a few of my law school friends.
We hadn't heard from my dad all morning, which for me seemed normal so I wasn't too worried. My mom however had specifically asked my dad to call her regularly so she could make sure he was ok. When we were going to the pool, we were waiting for him to call and give us an update on his location and how close he was so we could go pick him up. We had the iPhone location app pulled up all morning and could see it was stuck in rural south west Virginia near the West Virginian border.
After only about a half hour at the pool my mom received a call from Madi saying that the local sheriff had stopped by and told her that my dad had died. I'll never forget that moment. My mom yelled, "What?!" so loud and my stomach immediately dropped. I felt sick to my stomach. I knew something was horribly wrong. My mom immediately went into the pool house and started calling people, trying to get through to the state Virginia police and see what was going on. I was torn between watching my tiny kids in the pool and wanting to figure out what was going on. After about 20 minutes of confusion with only talking to one person and them saying that he was life flighted to a nearby hospital, we packed everyone up and left the pool.
I think denial was the first reaction. So, when the person we talked to said something about a life flight, we thought that maybe he just was seriously injured and it gave us a sliver of hope. I texted Morgan what was going on and when we got home he filled me in with the information that it is illegal to officially tell someone that a person has died unless it is true. We got home and got out of our swim gear and then sat in camping chairs in our packed up living room trying to stay as calm as humanly possible, while we tried to call anyone who could give us more information. However, we were unable to make any calls at that time except to family, which I chalk up to divine intervention. Then my mom asked Morgan for a priesthood blessing. As soon as he started the prayer, I felt my dad standing in the room with us and I just started crying because I knew that he was gone. Shortly after the blessing we received confirmation that he died early that morning in a hit and run accident. It is the worst loss and experience I have yet had. My mom was beside herself and I was just trying to keep my head afloat while still being aware of my babies and more importantly my unborn baby that I needed to stay in until we drove 24 hours across the country.
My sister Abi got was driving from Gettysburg to Charlottesville the whole morning of the 18th so my mom gave her the task of calling all of the siblings to tell them the news. She finally arrived at our house in the early evening. I am SO gratefully that she was planning to come see us all along. Her presence was paramount in those first few days and weeks after. She was able to give my mom the support night and day that I couldn't give because of my pregnancy and position as a mom of two. It was also nice to be able to share the burden of grief and comforting my mom with her. That evening my mom decided she needed to change her flight and go home as soon as possible. She had a flight out the next afternoon. We tried to get her to eat in the morning and I did my best to try to distract that day by taking them up to Carter Mountain, but a grief that huge cannot be pushed aside.
Overall, I just couldn't believe that it was real. It just seemed impossible. Not me, not my life, not my dad. We had SO much help in those last few days in Charlottesville. Our ward and friends, dropped everything to surround us and lift us up. I had so many people come up and tell me that their parents or dad had died super young and that they felt for me. Friends and ward members brought meals and travel snacks. We had help putting our stuff into the moving truck. The Relief Society volunteered to clean up our house after we had moved all our stuff out. The bishop and his family threw a celebratory barbecue for Morgan on graduation Sunday complete with a cake and candles for him to blow out (they are the best sort of people). They also volunteered their daughter to watch my babies during graduation so that I could enjoy it. Other friends offered to watch our kids so we could get things done and have some down time. Thanks to those angel friends, our graduation weekend was better than we could have ever have hoped for. The Lord poured out blessings on us and it was SO appreciated.
I helped coordinate the funeral arrangements in those early days. I was asked to do the slideshow and put together the obituary. We knew that I wouldn't be able to attend the funeral, most likely, because of my pregnancy (which ended up being true) so I was grateful to be so involved in the tasks I was given. Even though it was hard to write the obituary and look through a lifetime of my dad's memories, I think it was therapeutic. I did both tasks while we drove cross-country to get to Colorado. My dad's funeral was May 31st and I missed it because I was 39 weeks pregnant with the 6th grand baby. We decided that traveling the 18 hours round trip and stress of the funeral just wouldn't be safe or healthy. I also felt like my dad understood our situation and that I didn't need to be there to have closure. I watched the funeral through Skype and Facetimed during all the family gatherings. Ultimately, it was good that we didn't go to the funeral because I had Zeke-baby two days after the funeral on June 2nd.
The last few months have been hard. I get moody and don't realize that it is because i'm missing my dad until later. I wish I could talk to him, get advice and just see him again. What I miss the most though is him playing with my kids and getting to see him be part of their lives. He was the best dad. He particularly had a great way of giving advice and correction that I miss. I miss his encouragement and his excitement about what we all loved. I'm sad that he will never get to visit us in Colorado. He would have loved all the biking and hiking trails. I feel for my mom, what a hard trial losing a spouse is. I know that I will see him again and that he watches out for me and my little family. That doesn't mean that it doesn't hurt or that I don't miss him almost everyday, but it does help to ease the ache. Miss you daddy.
This is my dad as a boy. My Jack David has a close resemblance to him, which I love.
On Eva's blessing day
Sweethearts forever
