A letter never to be answered...

Dear Kyle,

That sounds so weird. The sound of your name coming across my lips after 15 years sounds foreign. It's so cliche to say I never would have guessed that your name could ever be foreign to me but no one can guess that the last time you see or speak to someone is, in fact, the last time you see or speak to someone. While we're mentioning cliches, how about, no one ever thinks something like "this" will happen to them. This. This. You, my brother, were dead at 19 years old. You weren't being a careless teenager, and you weren't doing anything you weren't supposed to be doing, and you died. You died learning how to help others in the event of their tragedy. I often think about what and how life would be different if you were still here. Would we have the kind of relationship where we talk often? Would you have a wife and kids? I hope so. You would have been an awesome Dad. And uncle. I imagine that Cora and Owen would love you and be as infatuated with you as they are other members of our family.  I want you to know about your niece and nephew, and I want them to know you. The only thing Cora knows about you is that you are my brother and you live in heaven with Jesus. She's too young to understand, but someday I will tell her lots of things. I hope that when that day comes she can feel the happiness inside. There are so many circumstances to wonder about, yet sad to think of because I'll never know what life would have been like with you in it beyond 14 years. I hope that you'd be proud of the person I've grown into the past decade and a half. I think that the good intentions I have in my heart come from the hurt I've faced; and the drive that keeps me going to be the best wife, mother, daughter, friend, teacher, etc. I can be comes from the void of the things that you never got to become. I am thankful that because of your death, I'm able to put life into perspective. Every day, I'm faced with so many obstacles, decisions, and challenges that I won't let affect my attitude or the way that I live my life because, I know, there are so many more bigger things. When I look back to the time I had to grieve, I get nauseated just thinking about it. The haunting sounds of everything that occurred that night rings loudly in my ears as if it just happened yesterday. I've been asked to help a number of people who have lost siblings and have been asked to put into words how I dealt and lived through such a tragic loss. My response is always the same. I wish I could help someone or anyone that is going through a loss such as this, but I have no idea how. I went into a dark place and somehow, with God's provision, I made it out. I didn't know it then, and it's taken a lot of years for me to realize that. It's my prayer that when someone looks at the hurt I've overcome and the things I witnessed on November 16, 2000, they can see there is hope. There's hope in God's saving grace. When I think back, I don't remember anything about the two years following your accident. It's all just a blur. I know I spent a lot of time crying, and floating through each day just trying to stay afloat. There were so many things that had to change. I was filled with a lot of bitterness and to think about the person I could have become if I kept that inside is scary. I still get an uncomfortable and guilty feeling when asked if I have any brothers or sisters. Know that when I smile and say no, I think of you, love you, and miss you every time. Know that when I say "yes" and "it's okay" after someone says they're sorry...know that I'm lying. It's not okay. It's never been okay, but I want people to understand that with God a part of my life, that's the only way to be okay. 

And I am...doing okay. And I hope that you know that. I'm alright. I hope that you can see the happiness my life is filled with. I hope that when my sweet children snuggle tight in my arms and when their laughing and squeals of delight echo throughout our house, that you can feel it. I hope that you see Mom's face light up when Cora yells, "Meme" with as much excitement that anyone can imagine. I hope you can feel the pride that wells up inside Dad when Owen pulls on his pant leg to pick him up. My life is filled with so many great things and so many amazing people, I'm able to reflect on my past and grow and learn from each and every bit of it. While you can't write back to this letter, there is so much healing that comes from these words. I love you. I know you'll keep watching over me, and there's so much joy that has yet to come.

Love,
Your obnoxious little sister

(Please feel free to share this post if you think there's someone out there that can benefit from hearing these words.)

November 16, 2000: A memoir of the sibling left behind

A detailed narrative of the event that changed my life...

I was sitting at home knowing there was a fire training that night, hoping that I might get to ride along and "hang out" at the station while all the firefighters did their thing. While that might sound like a strange thing for a 14 year old to do in her free time, living in a close knit community, we were all family, and I loved being around the comradery that filled the station. When Kyle got home that evening, I asked if I could go, and when we often fought like a typical brother and sister do, I was shocked when he said yes.

The training started like any other typical one. I stayed in the office watching TV and walked back and forth between that and watching the boys train with the hoses and work the pumper on the truck. I was inside the office when the phone rang.

"Gott Fire Department," I answered.
The voice on the line asked, "Andrea, do you know anything about an accident?"
"What are you talking about? I don't think there's been an accident, nothing out of the ordinary has occurred."

At this time, panic ensued and several trucks left out belting the lights and sirens. I told the voice on the phone that if she sent someone to the scene, to pick me up on the way. As I waited by the road, I was picked up and we traveled a short distance of only half a mile. As we drove up on one of the most horrifying scenes I've ever witnessed, it looked like an airport landing strip. There were lights and trucks and people everywhere. In the middle of all the chaos was an upside down fire truck, actually, part of a fire truck. Several pieces lay strewn about the yard.

"Oh My God," were the words that came out of my mouth. But not in a derogatory way, in a My God have mercy on what is happening right before my eyes kind of way. I had no idea what I was about to encounter. I wish I could go back and freeze that moment. I was sitting inside that truck and I was oblivious to the terror filled people running around that yard. I was ignorant to the fact that my life, right then, in that moment, was innocent. I had no idea what was about to punch me in the stomach. I had no idea, that this moment would be the last moment I had a living sibling.

As I ran up onto the yard to see who, of my friends, was be the subject of this terrible misfortune, someone said, "Andrea, it's Kyle."

Every fear that I'd ever known no longer meant anything. My worst fear was smacking me in the face. As I ran around the truck to get a visual of what was happening, there he was, There my defenseless brother was, inside that truck, with absolutely no hope of survival. My Mom and Dad were there. They were screaming and begging God to spare their son's life. Every single firefighter was trying everything they possibly could to get him out. After what seemed like an eternity, they finally untangled him from the wreckage. He lifeless body pulled out right in front of me. I remember his barefoot not having his boot on it. I remember everything, every single detail of that night.

We followed the ambulance to the hospital, and the nightmare that I was hoping I'd wake up from just kept on going. I called family member after family member and relayed the same message over and over, "Kyle's been in an accident and we don't know if he's going to make it."

Loved one after loved one arrived at the hospital to offer their support. Firefighters still in their gear lined that hallway waiting to hear the devastating news, praying for a miracle. I remember being dragged up and down that hallway, moving us from one place to another. I think maybe they were unsuccessfully trying to help us by giving us a room to await our fate. Finally, they ushered my parents into a room. They wouldn't let me in. At that moment, I think that's the only time in my entire life I've ever actually hated someone. I hated that nurse. How dare her take my family away from me when she knew that 1/4 of my family was lying unresponsive on a table somewhere in that awful place. I stood next to the door and when I heard my parents sobs, knew in an instant what had been revealed. We would be going home without a member of my family. My parents cried a cry that is specific to the kind of loss that one can't even imagine until you've experienced it. I believe in this instant, a fight or flight response came over me and I screamed at that nurse to let me in that room. She had no choice. What a terrible moment to be such an uncaring, unsympathetic person on a power trip.

My broken family embraced. And cried. The doctor took us to the room where my 19 year old brother's body was covered with a sheet. We hugged him and told him goodbye. As a 14 year old child, I don't believe I was developed mentally or emotionally to fathom what I was witnessing. From that point on, things become a big blur. I remember Mom having blood stains on her coat where she laid over her son's lifeless body begging him not to leave her. She praying that God would end this nightmare. I can see my Dad stroking Kyle's hair and hand as he sobbed knowing that he would never recover from this. I felt like a statue in that cold room. I didn't know what to do. Was this really happening? Is this my real life? From that point on, all I remember is the violent shaking of my mom's body as she laid next to me that night embracing Kyle's shirt that he wore that day. Clutching to the 19 years of memories that had abruptly ended in just a few hours of time.

The days that followed was just a continuation of the nightmare. Kyle's memorial was so honorable. I'm filled with pride when I think back on his celebration of life. What an amazing life it was, albeit a short one, but one that I'm so grateful to have been a part of.