Showing posts with label remembering. Show all posts
Showing posts with label remembering. Show all posts
Thursday, September 11, 2008
Friday, May 9, 2008
May 9th - A Day of Celebration and a Day of Sorrow (Pt. II)
I started this post intending for it to be one singular post that I put up today...it started to get so long, and there was so much more I wanted to say...so I split it up. Please go here to read the first part.
Drew's funeral in Orlando was unlike anything I've ever experienced before. Unfortunately, because we lived in different states for his whole life, I hadn't known all that much about my cousin. I reflected on how utterly sad that was. Here I was...28 years old....and I barely knew my 17 year old cousin. What I know now is mostly what I heard from those who spoke at Drew's funeral and from the stories I heard told at the reception following the funeral service.
Let's talk a bit about that reception. Drew had told my other cousin Whitney that he wanted balloons at his funeral and for people to have fun. No one should cry. I hate to say, I couldn't complete his request for no crying.
I cried for a life lost so soon. I cried for my Aunt Dana and Uncle Jack who world had just collapsed around them. I cried for my Cousin Kate who had been the one to find Drew...who'd have to live with that pain for the rest of her life. I cried for Drew's friends who'd had their dearest friend taken from them. I cried for the life that Drew would never live. The marriage he'd never have, the children he'd never have, the people that he'd impact.
I remember Mom and I asking my Cousin Whitney if Drew was a Christian. I wanted to know because the only comfort I could seem to find was in the belief that my Nannie was in Heaven welcoming Drew home. I look back and do hope that we didn't hurt Whit with our questions...she was just the closest of all of us to him. We just knew that she would have the answer that would ease our pain. Unfortunately we didn't know...that haunts me to this day. The not knowing where Drew is...my hope is that he's in Heaven with Nannie and I'll get to see them both again.
My parents, grandfather and I then drove with Drew's family back to Atlanta where there would be another service. They had spent most of Drew's life in Atlanta, but were living in Orlando when Drew died. The service in Atlanta was more of the same. People talking about all Drew had done for them, taught them, shown them. Teachers, friends, acquaintances. So many people affected by this young man. I could only hope that in my years here on Earth I could affect so many people with who I was.
Drew was an amazing person. He loved family more than anything. I remember a trip to see them in Boca Raton when Drew was only about 2 or 3 years old. He'd fight taking naps because he wanted to be with his "Friends and Faaaam-ah-lee". He also loved to say the name of a local department store, he'd just ramdomly say "Buuuuuuurrrrrd-iiiiii-nes". It was hysterical. Those were hard years for their family, but I remember the most of him from that trip.
I want to end this with my biggest keepsake from Drew. My parents had been to Orlando to visit his family just about a month before his death. Drew had taken this picture of my parents:
Drew's funeral in Orlando was unlike anything I've ever experienced before. Unfortunately, because we lived in different states for his whole life, I hadn't known all that much about my cousin. I reflected on how utterly sad that was. Here I was...28 years old....and I barely knew my 17 year old cousin. What I know now is mostly what I heard from those who spoke at Drew's funeral and from the stories I heard told at the reception following the funeral service.
Let's talk a bit about that reception. Drew had told my other cousin Whitney that he wanted balloons at his funeral and for people to have fun. No one should cry. I hate to say, I couldn't complete his request for no crying.
I cried for a life lost so soon. I cried for my Aunt Dana and Uncle Jack who world had just collapsed around them. I cried for my Cousin Kate who had been the one to find Drew...who'd have to live with that pain for the rest of her life. I cried for Drew's friends who'd had their dearest friend taken from them. I cried for the life that Drew would never live. The marriage he'd never have, the children he'd never have, the people that he'd impact.
I remember Mom and I asking my Cousin Whitney if Drew was a Christian. I wanted to know because the only comfort I could seem to find was in the belief that my Nannie was in Heaven welcoming Drew home. I look back and do hope that we didn't hurt Whit with our questions...she was just the closest of all of us to him. We just knew that she would have the answer that would ease our pain. Unfortunately we didn't know...that haunts me to this day. The not knowing where Drew is...my hope is that he's in Heaven with Nannie and I'll get to see them both again.
My parents, grandfather and I then drove with Drew's family back to Atlanta where there would be another service. They had spent most of Drew's life in Atlanta, but were living in Orlando when Drew died. The service in Atlanta was more of the same. People talking about all Drew had done for them, taught them, shown them. Teachers, friends, acquaintances. So many people affected by this young man. I could only hope that in my years here on Earth I could affect so many people with who I was.
Drew was an amazing person. He loved family more than anything. I remember a trip to see them in Boca Raton when Drew was only about 2 or 3 years old. He'd fight taking naps because he wanted to be with his "Friends and Faaaam-ah-lee". He also loved to say the name of a local department store, he'd just ramdomly say "Buuuuuuurrrrrd-iiiiii-nes". It was hysterical. Those were hard years for their family, but I remember the most of him from that trip.
I want to end this with my biggest keepsake from Drew. My parents had been to Orlando to visit his family just about a month before his death. Drew had taken this picture of my parents:
Drew captured my parents perfectly in this picture. I am forever thankful to him for one of the best pictures of my parents.
Drew, I wish I'd had the opportunity to know you better. I am not proud of the fact that some of your friends knew you better than I, your family. I am glad, however, that I had the time we did at Nannie's funeral. Our trip in the woods was one I'll never forget. I hope I see you again.....
Thursday, May 8, 2008
May 9th - A Day of Celebration and a Day of Sorrow
May 9, 2001. It started out like any typical Spring day in Atlanta. It was pretty, the sun was shining...I rolled over in bed to kiss Shooter and cheerily greet him with a "Happy Birthday!!!" We went about our morning routine and the went out the door to work - hugs and kisses and promises of seeing each other later were shared.
Work was like any typical day...I worked for a pretty large regional bank and it was just another day of crunching numbers and sending out checks and calculating commissions. Late in the afternoon...not long before I was to leave to go home and share a great dinner with Shooter...I received a phone call from my Mom. Not completely unusual, but enough out of the ordinary that I had to frown a bit before I picked up the phone. Not one word was said...I heard her sobs...I could sense her body being wracked with a pain I'd never experienced before. "Mom, what's wrong?", I whispered. Louder sobs. "MOM!?!? WHAT'S WRONG????" I immediately imagined the worse. "Mom, what's wrong with Daddy? Talk to me!!" She manages to compose herself enough to squeak out, "Honey, it's not Daddy." "Well, what's wrong with Peepaw or Paw or Granny or Wes!?!?!? Or you!!!!", I was panicked by now. "Honey, it's Drew. I just talked to them...he's gone."
I remember screaming "NO!" over and over again. I remember sobbing hysterically. I remember my co-workers running to my office to see what was wrong. I remember them closing my door so that I could deal with my grief in private. I remember the looks on their faces....their pity...as my world broke apart.
I was able to get myself together enough to pack my things. I went to my boss' office and all he had to do was take one look at me and he was so kind. He told me to take all the time I needed, they'd be fine. He didn't ask any questions, he needed no explanation. He was a good man that way.
I called Shooter on the way home. Explained to him what had happened, or at least what I understood had happened - what few details I had. He (and I for that matter) had far more questions than I had answers to. Somehow I made it home...Shooter's birthday dinner a distant thought. I had talked to my parents and they were on their way to Atlanta with Peepaw...we were going to drive to Orlando that night to be with them. I was going to have to help Daddy and drive, Mom said. I didn't mind...I needed something to focus on...something besides all the questions floating around in my head.
I can't remember what time they picked me up...but we drove that evening from Atlanta to Orlando. We got there late...that's all I really remember. Most of the time in Orlando was a blur. I do remember taking my cousins to the movie at Downtown Disney. I thought it would be good to get them out and distract them a bit. We were all overwhelmed and raw emotionally. We'd cried all we could. Actually, we'd cried all our tears a few months earlier when our Grandmother, our Nannie, passed away. This was just about the last staw for us.
To be continued.....
Work was like any typical day...I worked for a pretty large regional bank and it was just another day of crunching numbers and sending out checks and calculating commissions. Late in the afternoon...not long before I was to leave to go home and share a great dinner with Shooter...I received a phone call from my Mom. Not completely unusual, but enough out of the ordinary that I had to frown a bit before I picked up the phone. Not one word was said...I heard her sobs...I could sense her body being wracked with a pain I'd never experienced before. "Mom, what's wrong?", I whispered. Louder sobs. "MOM!?!? WHAT'S WRONG????" I immediately imagined the worse. "Mom, what's wrong with Daddy? Talk to me!!" She manages to compose herself enough to squeak out, "Honey, it's not Daddy." "Well, what's wrong with Peepaw or Paw or Granny or Wes!?!?!? Or you!!!!", I was panicked by now. "Honey, it's Drew. I just talked to them...he's gone."
I remember screaming "NO!" over and over again. I remember sobbing hysterically. I remember my co-workers running to my office to see what was wrong. I remember them closing my door so that I could deal with my grief in private. I remember the looks on their faces....their pity...as my world broke apart.
I was able to get myself together enough to pack my things. I went to my boss' office and all he had to do was take one look at me and he was so kind. He told me to take all the time I needed, they'd be fine. He didn't ask any questions, he needed no explanation. He was a good man that way.
I called Shooter on the way home. Explained to him what had happened, or at least what I understood had happened - what few details I had. He (and I for that matter) had far more questions than I had answers to. Somehow I made it home...Shooter's birthday dinner a distant thought. I had talked to my parents and they were on their way to Atlanta with Peepaw...we were going to drive to Orlando that night to be with them. I was going to have to help Daddy and drive, Mom said. I didn't mind...I needed something to focus on...something besides all the questions floating around in my head.
I can't remember what time they picked me up...but we drove that evening from Atlanta to Orlando. We got there late...that's all I really remember. Most of the time in Orlando was a blur. I do remember taking my cousins to the movie at Downtown Disney. I thought it would be good to get them out and distract them a bit. We were all overwhelmed and raw emotionally. We'd cried all we could. Actually, we'd cried all our tears a few months earlier when our Grandmother, our Nannie, passed away. This was just about the last staw for us.
To be continued.....
Friday, March 7, 2008
Remembering
Today is a special day. Today's a sad day too. On this day, five years ago, my wonderful Grandfather (Paw) went to be with the Lord. It was not a pleasant departure from this life for him. He suffered from kidney failure that took him slowly and painfully. He was however well into his 80s and had lived a very full life.
I remember him as the strong, tall man who would play with his grandkids. He loved us all so much. He had this gruff voice and crazy eyebrows...but was a softie inside. My brother and I would go to visit with family most every Sunday afternoon. Me, my brother, my two other cousins, my three aunts, my grandmother, and him. Lots of times he would hide out in his den...away from the chaos that came from 4 grandkids under 7 yrs old. Other times he'd take us out to his garden and we'd walk through it and pick fresh cherry tomatoes off the vines. Gosh...nothing like the taste of a fresh tomato warm from the sun.
I don't remember this event, I was only 4 years old, but it's been well recounted in our family. One day my Mom had taken my brother and I up to my grandparents house...she might have been helping them work on something. Paw was always give us a dollar here or a dollar there...when we'd leave he'd stuff a dollar in our hand and tell us to have Mom stop at the McDonald's and get us some fries or have her stop at the Dairy Queen to get us an ice cream. This particular day he gave us the money before it was time for us to leave and gave us specific instructions to have Mom take us to get a corn dog at the Dairy Queen. My little 4 year old self decided that he must have meant now and I grabbed my 2 year old brother's hand and we headed off down the street to the Dairy Queen. Now, the Dairy Queen was a short walk for an adult, but quite a hike for a small child. We also had to cross a pretty busy street to get there. Only by the grace of God did we make it there in one piece. I bought us two corn dogs, paid for them, got my change, and we headed back to my grandparents' house. I can only imagine what the cashier at Dairy Queen thought about two small children buying food. Ha!
In the meantime my grandparents and my Mom realized we were gone. They had no idea where we had gone, if someone had taken us, as we hadn't told them we were leaving. My Paw jumps in his car and in his excitement floods the engine and can't get it started. About that time my brother and I come strolling up the sidewalk. I have the Dairy Queen bag in one hand and I'm holding my brother's hand with the other. We're toddling up the street when my Mom sees us. She starts yelling at my Paw and telling him that we're coming and she runs to us and hugs us up. Apparently Mom asked me where we went, I showed her the bag and said that Paw had told us to go to Dairy Queen and get corn dogs for us.
He was so scared that something had happened to us - he never thought I'd take his thought literally. It became a running joke after that.
I miss my Paw. He was a wonderful man of God who loved others with all his heart. He was a strict diciplinarian and a former drill seargant in the army - this sometimes made him seem harder and more callous than he really was. He always had time to give us a hug.
I remember him as the strong, tall man who would play with his grandkids. He loved us all so much. He had this gruff voice and crazy eyebrows...but was a softie inside. My brother and I would go to visit with family most every Sunday afternoon. Me, my brother, my two other cousins, my three aunts, my grandmother, and him. Lots of times he would hide out in his den...away from the chaos that came from 4 grandkids under 7 yrs old. Other times he'd take us out to his garden and we'd walk through it and pick fresh cherry tomatoes off the vines. Gosh...nothing like the taste of a fresh tomato warm from the sun.
I don't remember this event, I was only 4 years old, but it's been well recounted in our family. One day my Mom had taken my brother and I up to my grandparents house...she might have been helping them work on something. Paw was always give us a dollar here or a dollar there...when we'd leave he'd stuff a dollar in our hand and tell us to have Mom stop at the McDonald's and get us some fries or have her stop at the Dairy Queen to get us an ice cream. This particular day he gave us the money before it was time for us to leave and gave us specific instructions to have Mom take us to get a corn dog at the Dairy Queen. My little 4 year old self decided that he must have meant now and I grabbed my 2 year old brother's hand and we headed off down the street to the Dairy Queen. Now, the Dairy Queen was a short walk for an adult, but quite a hike for a small child. We also had to cross a pretty busy street to get there. Only by the grace of God did we make it there in one piece. I bought us two corn dogs, paid for them, got my change, and we headed back to my grandparents' house. I can only imagine what the cashier at Dairy Queen thought about two small children buying food. Ha!
In the meantime my grandparents and my Mom realized we were gone. They had no idea where we had gone, if someone had taken us, as we hadn't told them we were leaving. My Paw jumps in his car and in his excitement floods the engine and can't get it started. About that time my brother and I come strolling up the sidewalk. I have the Dairy Queen bag in one hand and I'm holding my brother's hand with the other. We're toddling up the street when my Mom sees us. She starts yelling at my Paw and telling him that we're coming and she runs to us and hugs us up. Apparently Mom asked me where we went, I showed her the bag and said that Paw had told us to go to Dairy Queen and get corn dogs for us.
He was so scared that something had happened to us - he never thought I'd take his thought literally. It became a running joke after that.
I miss my Paw. He was a wonderful man of God who loved others with all his heart. He was a strict diciplinarian and a former drill seargant in the army - this sometimes made him seem harder and more callous than he really was. He always had time to give us a hug.
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