A View from a Different Seat

I attended a funeral yesterday. It was conducted at the same church where my daughter Lauren's service was held when she died. Kevin and I attend a different church here in Brandon and therefore I had not returned to First Baptist until yesterday.
My oldest sister Okle sent me a text Wednesday night asking if I could go to the funeral with her. She had been dear friends with the daughter of the sweet lady who had passed away. I think she was afraid to go by herself. She didn't say it outright, but a sister knows. I immediately checked my work calendar and it just so happened that I had a brief early morning meeting at a nearby school and enough time before the start of my next meeting that I could utilize my lunch break to attend.
As I drove to the church after my first meeting I was filled with anxiety. I was not sure if I would be able to control my emotional response to returning to the same site where I had said my final good bye to Lauren. It has only been two months. But my sister needed me and I too know the family and wanted to pay my respects.
When I pulled in and parked my car I did not hesitate for long. I checked my lipstick in the rear view mirror, took a deep breath and opened the door. I walked briskly to the side door of the sanctuary before I lost my nerve. Okle had already sent me a text giving me her location which helped. I opened the door and entered. As I made my way to where Okle was seated several people stopped me to hug my neck and ask how I am doing. I know they meant well but this did not help me keep it all together.
We were seated in the side section of the very large building. I sat there thinking what a remarkably different view it is from this seat. The last time I was here I was on the very front row of the middle section. I was seated with Kevin on my left and Ray on my right. One man is my life partner while the other had been my parenting partner and at that time I certainly needed them both. I looked at the front row now and my heart broke for the family members seated there this day.
Beautiful flowers were placed at the front by the casket. The casket was actually the same model I had chosen for Lauren. Dr. Tommy Green spoke eloquently and the music was wonderful. Okle and I even had the opportunity to join others on the platform to sing as requested by First Baptist's choir director who is the son of the lady being laid to rest. Singing actually helped lift my spirits and improve my mood.
When I returned to my seat I took a minute to read the tribute handed to me as I signed the guestbook. I absolutely love the inscription I found written on the inside of the leaflet. It read ¨The final heartbeat for the Christian is not the mysterious conclusion to a meaningless existence. It is, rather, the grand beginning to a life with our Savior that will never end. - Dr. James Dobson¨
Amen.

Little Signs

As days pass since my daughter's death I continue to receive little signs that she is still here in a spiritual sense. Perhaps I just want this to be true but irregardless there have been occurrences that would lead one to believe she is sending messages. Sometimes I recognize them right away and other times I am not cognizant of what is happening in the moment and realize after the fact that there had been a connection to my girl. I have shared one such experience when I wrote about the scoreboard at her college softball team's game displaying all 2's which added up to 20, her number.
Shortly thereafter I was waiting in the front lobby of one of my schools and received another sign. As it often does, my mind wandered to thoughts of Lauren. I sat in the chair staring out the window and was on the verge of one of my silent cries when a man entered the office. Displaying good manners the man removed the ball cap from his head as he crossed the threshold to enter the room. In an attempt to shift my focus I turned my gaze from the window and began to survey the front office and its occupants. My eyes fell upon the man who had entered and I immediately noticed the hat he was now holding in his hand down by his side. It was exactly like a hat that Lauren had received as a gift from her dad Mitchell.
Lauren wore that hat continuously during her travel ball season that summer. She believed it made her look tough and gave her luck. One time she went with some teammates to eat during a break in between games at a tournament and accidentally left her hat at the restaurant. I had remained at the field and was made aware of her mistake upon her return. She asked if we could go by the restaurant to retrieve the hat when the tournament concluded but I said no. I am so mean. I was also hot, tired and cranky after sitting in the sun all day watching game after game. I told her I didn't even know where they had gone and she needed to learn to be responsible and keep up with her stuff.
A friend of mine, Jonathan, overheard the conversation. He returned to the area the following day for a job and went by the restaurant and picked up Lauren's hat. She was thrilled and I felt like a shrew...but it was so sweet of him to go out of his way. I will never forget his kindness.
Back to the man in the office. I was so stunned that he was holding the same hat right as I was thinking about how much I miss my girl. It was like Lauren was telling me all is well. An overwhelming sense of calm washed over me and my tears disappeared. Then I behaved like a totally creepy stalker and snapped several photos of the man's hat with my cell phone.
Another time I was unaware of the sign that was right in front of me until I received a message on Facebook from a friend of mine. Kevin and I went on a camping trip after Lauren's accident which we had scheduled months in advance. We felt it was important to get away and spend some time together as we had already planned the trip well before the accident. While camping at Manatee Springs State Park I kept noticing a beautiful Cardinal that visited our site often. The gorgeous red bird would come so close to us when we were sitting outside that I took a few pictures of it.
When we returned home I was signed onto Facebook and had received a message from my friend Christy stating "Saw this and thought of you!" She had attached the following,
"A cardinal is a representative of a loved one who passed away. When you see one, it means they are visiting you. They usually show up when you most need them or miss them. They also make an appearance during times of celebration as well as despair to let you know they will always be with you. Look for them, they'll appear." I immediately wrote her back telling her she had given me goosebumps and relayed the story of the cardinal at our campsite. She never wrote me back so I may have freaked her out a little. I have no doubt that Lauren is still with me. I look forward to many more signs of her presence as she is most certainly always in my heart.

Medical Mayhem Part Three

Years went by and overall Lauren was in great health. No additional accidents had occurred and it was pretty smooth sailing for a while. Then one day Lauren came home after softball practice her junior year in high school complaining of chest pains. I made an appointment with her doctor, still her pediatrician at this time, and we went in.
During the course of her examination the doctor asked if there was any history of heart problems in Lauren's family. I thought about my own family and all was good. Then it hit me like a ton of bricks...Mitchell's family is riddled with heart trouble. I remembered that Lauren's aunt Christine, Mitchell's younger sister, already had a pace maker and defibrillator in her chest when he and I were dating. I used to take her to appointments.  She was only 20 at the time. Mitchell's mother had a heart device and unknown to me, he himself had been fitted with a device years earlier to this. We had not stayed in touch.
I informed Lauren's doctor of this revelation and she immediately referred us to a pediatric cardiologist for further examination. This incident also prompted me to reestablish communication with Mitchell and his family. I needed to find out exactly what condition plagued the family so tragically. I was able to get in touch with Christine who informed me that the heart problem the family suffered with is called hypertophic cardiomyopothy. Armed with a specific name the online research began and so did my complete and total panic.
This is the very first thing I read "Hypertrophic cardiomyopathy (HCM) is a primary disease of the myocardium (the muscle of the heart) in which a portion of the myocardium is hypertrophied (thickened) without any obvious cause. It is a leading cause of sudden cardiac death in young athletes. The occurrence of hypertrophic cardiomyopathy is a significant cause of sudden unexpected cardiac death in any age group and as a cause of disabling cardiac symptoms. Younger people are likely to have a more severe form of hypertrophic cardiomyopathy. HCM is frequently asymptomatic until sudden cardiac death, and for this reason some suggest routinely screening certain populations for this disease." Asymptomatic until sudden cardiac death? Are you kidding me? So I suppose we were lucky that Lauren's chest started hurting to alert us.
Numerous tests were performed and by the grace of God she had no signs of the disease. Due to her family history it was recommended that Lauren have annual exams as a preventative measure in order to catch the disease early if symptoms developed. During this time of testing she was not able to play ball. She was so excited when the doctor released her to hit the mound and pitch again.
The most recent exciting medical adventure with Lauren occurred on the last evening of Christmas break from school in 2012. I was giving myself a pedicure in the family room while Kevin watched television and Lauren worked on a school project. It had taken me forever to remove the blue glittered nail polish from one foot and I was about to start on the other when disaster struck.
Lauren had been cutting out letters for her project and had taken a break to go into the kitchen for a drink. When she returned to the family room she proceeded to flop back down onto the couch in usual Lauren fashion. Suddenly she popped halfway back up, yelled "Mom!" and laid over onto her side while holding the top of the outside of her thigh. "What?" I exclaimed back. I was irritated at the hard work it was taking to remove the stubborn polish from my toes while bending over and scrubbing like a maniac. I looked over right as Lauren was pulling her hand away from her leg and instantly knew we were in trouble.
Blood was starting to bubble out of an obvious puncture wound. I quickly threw her the hand towel I had by my side and told her to put it on the injury and apply pressure. In an attempt to not cause any undue hysteria I calmly turned to Kevin and said "You might want to go ahead and get your keys honey. We need to go to the emergency room." Lauren apparently had flopped down onto the kitchen scissors she had been using which must have become wedged in the side cushion when she stood up.
So off to the ER we went. I had one foot with painted toes, one without and was wearing a lovely outfit typically viewed only by family members in the comfort of our own home. Not that it was indecent just not pretty. Lauren was in her pajama set which the scissors had sliced a hole through before piercing her flesh. Kevin must have been so proud. Several stitches later we were sent on our merry way. Life with my Lauren was never boring.

Medical Mayhem Part Two

The saga continues. Lauren's tendency for strange accidents and mishaps started early in life. Following the meningitis scare all was well for a couple of years. Then another mini disaster struck.
Ray and I took some friends of ours out in our boat for an afternoon ride here in Tampa. We were enjoying some of the islands close by where locals gather to grill out, play and have fun. As it was getting dark we decided to head into another part of the bay and enter the Hillsborough River in order to see the city lights. We owned a bow rider boat at the time and Lauren was seated in the bow along with our friends Jeff and Misty. I was lounging on the back to back seat which could be laid flat. It was cold that night so I was covered up with a blanket and snuggled down attempting to stay warm.
All of a sudden Ray was shouting for me to sit up and hold on! I quickly sat up and gathered my senses while reaching for the handle beside the seat. Apparently an extremely large boat was passing without lights so Ray hadn't seen it coming. We were very close to the other boat and he knew we were about to hit its wake and it was not going to be a smooth ride. Sure enough the wave came, we went into it, became briefly airborne and then landed with a loud smack on the other side.
All was quiet for a moment and we all thought everything was fine. Then Lauren started crying. She got louder and louder. It was too dark to see what was bothering her. I calmed her down enough to piece together that she had hit her face on the safety bar on the bow of the boat. She had held onto the bar as the boat went into the air and when it landed so forcefully her head snapped down causing her face to hit the bar.
Since we were right outside Tampa General Hospital, it is on the river, we headed in that direction.
I called her primary care physician's emergency line (gotta love HMOs) and explained what happened. She advised we take her in for x-rays as she could have chipped her cheek bone which could end up in her sinus cavity causing serious problems. The dock at the hospital is for water taxis only. Luckily there was a nurse located at a nearby table on her break who was gracious enough to go and retrieve a security guard to open the gate. Misty and I took Lauren into the emergency room while Ray and Jeff returned in the boat to get the car and meet us back at the hospital.
By now the swelling had grown so severe that Lauren could no longer open her eye on the affected side of her face. Misty and I tried to keep her attention off of her injury by joking and making her laugh. Her poor swollen face didn't even move as she tried to chuckle at our jokes. We affectionately called her our little "Oompaloompa".
Thank God the only damage was soft tissue related and no bones had chipped. Her eye was fine and we were sent on our way. She told us that different people kept coming in and asking her over and over again what had happened. I suppose when a six year old shows up with a black eye and swollen face they need to make sure there hasn't been any foul play. I didn't mind, I'm glad they checked.
The fun part was returning to school the following week. Remember, Lauren came to school where I worked. My colleagues couldn't get over the black eye she was now sporting. Of course I teased and said to anyone who inquired, "Bet she won't ever talk back to me again huh?" It's a good thing they all knew me well enough to know I was joking.

Medical Mayhem Part One

Lauren had a tendency to experience strange medical issues or accidents. Luckily not many were life threatening but often they were just plain odd. It's a good thing that she and I always had a great time at the doctor's office cutting up and making each other laugh. I recall actually being scolded by her rather stern and serious pediatrician a couple of times because we were being too silly.
When Lauren was just turning four she came down with strep throat. She went through several rounds of meds but she just couldn't shake the virus. Then she developed a mild case of scalded skin syndrome on the inside of her hands. This is an illness characterised by red blistering skin that looks like a burn or scald, hence its name. Fortunately it was not painful but it looked hideous. Trips to the grocery store or any other public arena brought about many puzzled looks. People probably thought I stuck her hands on a hot stove as punishment...or maybe I was paranoid. Probably the latter. So we had to lather her little hands in Aquaphor and cover them with socks every night before she went to bed for a few weeks.
Just when we thought we had the virus licked disaster struck. I was working that summer at a local daycare and took Lauren with me. She had just turned 4 that May. She often complained about still being sleepy when I woke her to get ready and I would give her a pep talk and keep her moving. One morning she awoke and performed the same routine. "I'm tired. I don't feel good. Can I go back to bed?" she whined. I pushed her along and we arrived at the daycare center on time.
I was working with the school age students and left shortly there after to go bowling. When I returned around noon Lauren's teacher rushed over to me and appeared very distressed. She informed me that Lauren had not moved off her mat all morning, including lunch time, and her been complaining that her "brain hurt". If Lauren missed lunch something was wrong. I entered the classroom to see Lauren laying on her tummy atop her little nap mat. I went down to my knees beside her and rubbed her back. "Lauren, it's mommy. How are you feeling?" She slowly turned her head toward me and said "Mommy, I don't feel goo..." She was unable to finish her sentence as she started vomiting all over the front of her mat.
Now I am no medical expert but I know enough about kids to know that vomiting in combination with a headache is not a good thing. I informed my supervisor that we were leaving and rushed home. Being on an HMO insurance plan I was required to contact Lauren's primary care physician. As soon as we arrived home I laid Lauren on the couch and called. I described her symptoms and was told to not break any speed limits but to definitely get her into an emergency room quickly. My heart sank. I was terrified.
I called Ray who worked in the apartment complex where we were living while looking for our next house and we immediately took her to the hospital. After a spinal tap was conducted we were told that she had contracted meningitis. Luckily it turned out to be viral from the strep she had been fighting and not bacterial which is the often fatal type. She was in the hospital for 5 days but thank God she was alright. Due to the swelling in the brain mood swings are common. My poor little girl would be laughing one minute, crying the next and then shouting at us a few minutes later. My heart broke for her.
During her stay the only channel that worked on the television in her room was one run by the hospital featuring movies. Some of the films were not appropriate for her age and we would have to turn the set off. The only movie she could really watch was Flubber. And by only I mean it is the ONLY age appropriate movie they kept playing. By the third day Lauren recognized the opening sequence when the production company's logo would be shown and she would cry "NOOO...not Flubber." Poor thing.

This story of Lauren's medical mishaps will need be a three parter because trust me, there is more to come.

Oh Brother!

Lauren loved her siblings. She was not concerned with titles such as "stepbrother" or "half" sister. To her they were all family. When Ray and I got married in February of 1996 Lauren Elizabeth was only 21 months old. Ray's son Donnie was only 5 and his daughter Lauren Michelle was only 18 months old. They were all babies. Even though Ray's kids only came to stay with us every other weekend we quickly established ourselves as a family. Lauren Elizabeth really didn't know life any other way. There were a few months of growing pains since she was used to having me all to herself but life fell into a nice rhythm and the kids got along well. 
I decided early on and Ray agreed that we would never take a family photo without all of the children. We always arranged our appointments to fit the times we had the kiddos with us. On the way to one particular photo session Donnie was in rare, maybe not so rare, form. The girls were both around 4 years old and Donnie was 8. I had painstakingly gotten all 3 kids and myself ready for the scheduled sitting and we all loaded up into our Suburban to head to the location. Ray and I were chatting in the front seat when out of no where Lauren Elizabeth starts crying. I asked her what was wrong and she proceeds to announce that she has stuck an M&M up her nose and now she can't get it out. 
Dear Lord Jesus help me. I asked Ray to pull over to the side of the road. I got out of my seat and opened the back passenger door to survey the damage. Sure enough, a red M&M was stuck in one of Lauren's nostrils. A lovely trail of red snot was running down her face. I calmed her down, held the other nostril and told her to blow. THUNK....out shot the M&M. 
No sooner had I finished with Lauren Elizabeth, Lauren Michelle starts crying from her spot at the opposite end of the bench seat. I glance over and say "Let me guess...monkey see, monkey do, you have an M&M in your nose too?" She answered my question by nodding and crying even louder. I crossed to the other side of the vehicle and repeated my routine this time to remove a green M&M. 
All this time Donnie is sitting quietly in the middle of the girls. Too quietly. I asked the girls what in the world possessed them to shove candy up their noses? They both looked at Donnie who immediately lowered his head in an attempt to become invisible. After a quick swat on the leg from Ray and a stern warning not to do something so stupid ever again we were once more on our way. Upon arrival I ushered the girls into a bathroom to clean any remaining visible colored streaks from their faces and the picture turned out lovely.
One day Ray and I were working in the backyard of our house in Lakeland. We were located on a lake and were busy cleaning out unwanted vegetation from the shoreline as the kids played in the front yard. If you're a parent you are familiar with the usual noise level that occurs when three children are cavorting and having fun. It is when things get too quiet that you begin to worry. 
I noticed that the kids were not as boisterous as they had been only minutes earlier. Not good. I asked Ray to stop whacking weeds and help me listen. He also heard nothing. We proceeded to exit the edge of the lake and make our way around the side of the house. As we rounded the front corner we observed all three of our children lying flat on their backs, arms outstretched straight to their sides at shoulder height and eyes squeezed shut. I looked at Ray, Ray looked at me and I said "What in the world are YOUR children doing?"
I slowly approached Lauren Elizabeth and quietly stood over her. When she finally noticed the eclipse that had occurred as I cast a shadow over her face she fluttered her eyes open to see what was going on. "Hey mommy" she whispered. "Hey Lauren, whatcha doin?" I whispered back. "Donnie said that if we are really still like we're dead the birds will come down here and we can pet em." Lauren Elizabeth explained while pointing her little nubby finger at the sky.
I glanced up to see about 4 or 5 buzzards circling in the sky. Again I offered up a silent plea to God...help me with these crazy kids. I asked Donnie "Really? Lie still and act like you're dead? Come on. Now although you do somewhat smell like death after playing outside all day I don't think your stench is to the level it needs to be to attract buzzards. And what exactly did you plan to do with these birds if they decided to come land next to you for a visit?" "Play with em" he said. Oh brother....gotta love those kids.

Designed by DNA

When we were growing up my two sisters and I always talked about what traits each of us had received from either my mom or my dad. I got my dad's curly hair (the only one who did) and my sister Okle got my mom's nose. Beth has my dad's eyes and I have my mom's little teeth. The list goes on and on. And not only do we inherit a plethora of physical traits but also personality characteristics and quirks.

Although Lauren's father Mitchell and I were only together for a short time I have always thanked him for the wonderful genetic contributions he provided which went into making my girl the beautiful person she was. In fact I always felt that some of her less than desirable traits came straight from me.

I always thought that Lauren and I had the same eyes until I looked at a picture of us taken up close. Lauren's eyes were a gorgeous greenish blue and came from Mitchell as did her high cheekbones, beautiful skin tone, and big, full lips. Mitchell is also responsible for Lauren's artistic ability. He is an extremely talented sketch artist just like his daughter. The calm, laid back part of Lauren's personality also came from her dad but the sassiness was all me.

Her dad did contribute a couple of traits she wished he hadn't. Lauren would sweat profusely when playing softball or working out just like Mitchell. This contributed to her very stinky feet. Our rule in the car following games was no removal of the cleats until we arrived home and they could be taken off outside and left there. Occasionally she would break this rule and then quietly sneak her rancid, sweaty sock covered foot in between the front seats to see how long it would take me to notice it there on the center console. It never took long.  Pee yew!!!

Lauren had just visited the dentist a couple of months before the accident. She was blessed with beautiful, big, straight teeth. We were looking into having her wisdom teeth removed to avoid any future crowding and discovered that she only had two....I teased her of course saying that must be why she wasn't so wise at times. We were so fortunate that she never required braces for straightening because they certainly don't come cheap. Again, the teeth can be attributed to Mitchell.

The most unsavory trait I passed down to Lauren was the horrible habit of biting her fingernails. I too bit my nails down to the quick when I was a child and on into early adulthood. I now keep my nails adorned with tips and acrylic because I can't grow decent nails due to all of the damage I did early in life. Lauren made my nail biting look like a casual pass time by comparison. That girl had the smallest little slivers for nails I have ever seen. Not only do I keep acrylic on my nails but I do them myself. Lauren always wanted me to do her nails but she seriously had no nail onto which I could glue a tip. Her little nubby nails broke my heart. She was such a gorgeous girl but those hands.....yuck! I apologized to my own mother several times as I was now experiencing the same pain she must have felt when I was young and bit my nails. 

At Lauren's church service my ex-husband Ray used the scarf she was wearing to cover up her hands. I moved the scarf back to reveal her pitiful little fingers because that was my girl. Nubby nails and all. It is amazing how the things that aggravate us the most in life become so inconsequential in death. That day in her silk lined casket I thought her hands were beautiful....because they were so exquisitely and perfectly her. I will miss her nail chewed fingers along with everything else.

Got milk?

Perfecting the Silent Cry

Yes, living with waterproof mascara has become an evil necessity in my life. But I am proud to say that I am quickly becoming quite the expert at executing the perfect silent cry. Proud maybe isn't the right word but I'm claiming it at least. I never know when a cry is going to sneak up on me and take me into its relentless grasp. I will be driving in my car on the way to work in the morning or from one school to the next between meetings and as my thoughts wander my eyes water. Then my throat tightens and I swallow hard and quickly in an attempt to keep the tears from coming. At these times my attempts are feeble and I allow the tears to stream down my face. I concentrate on crying quietly without making a peep. I rationalize that the better I become at not making any noise maybe no one will notice if I cry in less private settings. I consider this practice.
I have been fortunate enough to control my tears in professional arenas. I am able to stay focused on the task at hand and as long as I don't begin to daydream I am pretty safe. I was even able to reference Lauren in a recent interview in front of the Superintendent of Schools for Hillsborough County and most of her staff. I was discussing the importance of keeping special education students in schools as close to their zoned schools as possible so they can bond with neighborhood friends. I related this to the fact that I personally observed Lauren struggle with this when she was young because we lived in one county and she attended school with me in the next county over. She never had the chance to attend school and form close relationships with the other kids in our neighborhood in Lakeland.  I spoke of my sweet Lauren and remained dry eyed the entire time. Not easy but successful.
Then there is church. Oh my do the tears come in church. Especially when Kevin and I attended service early on Easter morning. I was doing well until the singing started. I tried and tried to join in and sing as I usually do but I could not stop crying. Now I mean no disrespect here because I fully understand the meaning behind the celebration of Easter but could my pastor have said "death' or "grave" one more time? Just one more...because the first 30 didn't quite put me over the edge. Having put my daughter in her grave a mere two weeks prior did not make me the most receptive church member that day. But I made it through. I cried a lot and thank God Kevin brought enough tissues but I made it.
Then there are the visits to Lauren's grave. When I go alone I cry the most. Again, I attempt to display a strong front even when I'm with Kevin. When I am there by myself I weep. I weep because I just don't understand. I weep because I am angry that she is gone. I weep because I have so many things I want to tell her. I weep because there are so many things I wanted to see her do...graduate from college, teach kindergarten, fall in love and get married, have beautiful babies, and then take care of me when I have grown too old to care for myself. She always promised that she would be there for me and even said she wouldn't mind hanging out with me when I got old. She believed I would still be "cool" and we would be great friends.
Now she is gone. None of those expectations will be met. No dreams will be realized. Everything was shattered into a million pieces along with the pieces of the car that tragic morning. And that is why I am the best silent "cryer" in town. An honor I have reluctantly bestowed upon myself and one I could have lived without.

The Happiest Place on Earth

This weekend my wonderful husband Kevin whisked me away to Orlando for a mini vacation. This past week was emotionally taxing with the celebration of Lauren's birthday and observance of Mother's day all in close proximity. But I made it through and now it was time to relax, unwind and rejuvenate. I only cried three times while watching mothers with their daughters. The first time was while waiting in the Will Call line to pick up our passes. My poor husband never knows when he is going to glance my way only to see silent tears flowing down my cheeks. Again...this is why I wear waterproof mascara.
As I tend to be rather reminiscent as of late I started thinking about past trips to theme parks with Lauren as she was growing up. When Lauren was born my middle sister Beth lived in Los Angeles and worked for the post production accounting division at Disney Films. With this position came several perks including free admission to any Disney parks along with two additional guests. Needless to say we visited Orlando every time Beth came home.
We decided to treat Lauren to something special for her 4th birthday. One of the restaurants in Epcot features a breakfast with the Disney characters. You eat your meal as the characters walk around and visit the tables. Mickey, Minnie, Pluto, Goofy, Donald....they were all there. Lauren was having a ball. All until one set of characters came to say "Howdy".
Chip 'n' Dale were making their rounds and approached our table. Lauren was excited at first but then all of a sudden started acting strangely. She pulled away and attempted to crawl to the other side of me in the booth. Beth and I couldn't figure out why but Lauren was deathly afraid of Dale. Chip was fine but Dale....no go, she wasn't having it.
During a subsequent visit to the Magic Kingdom we again encountered Chip 'n' Dale conducting a meet and greet and again Lauren was friendly with Chip but wanted nothing to do with Dale. To this day I am not quite sure what her issue was with this nice furry fella. I can only speculate that maybe it was the red nose that threw her for a loop. She must have surmised that chipmunks have black noses like Chip and this red nosed variation didn't sit well with her. Or perhaps she was not a fan of big protruding buck teeth. We teased her about this as she got older and she never could really tell us what all the fuss was about. Crazy kid.
Beth and I also took a trip to Sea World when Lauren was just a toddler. She was so young in fact that a stroller was still her main mode of transportation. She became attached to the park map and refused to give it up on several occasions. We ended up getting another map from a mid park kiosk just so we could plot the course for the day. What a little bossy britches.
Ray and I were fortunate to be able to take the kids (Donnie, Lauren and Lauren) to several water parks over the years also. The kids loved the rides and I tolerated spending the entire day in my bathing suit. All in the spirit of family fun right? Again, one of Lauren's classic word mix ups comes to my memory as a result of thinking back to these trips.
She had finally gathered up all of her courage and decided to ride the extraordinarily tall water slide near the entrance of Wild Waters, a park in Ocala we frequented. She climbed stair after stair and finally arrived at the top. I peered up with my hand splayed across my forehead to shield my eyes from the bright sun. When I saw she had reached the front of the line I waved enthusiastically from my safe location with my feet planted firmly on the ground in an attempt to celebrate her for taking this big step of bravery. She climbed over the edge of the top of the slide and sat in the designated spot with jets shooting water behind her little bottom ready to propel her down this steep slippery slide into the pool of water below.
The lifeguard gave her the signal and she scooted forward a bit and then....woosh, she was off. She laid back as instructed and crossed her legs at the ankles and her arms were crossed over her chest. She didn't even scream. Then she plunged feet first into the pool totally immersing her body under the water. She sprung up and waded to the ladder located at the edge of one side of the pool. She was so excited as she ran over to where I was eagerly awaiting her arrival and I could hardly wait to commend her for a job well done. "Did you have fun?" I inquired. "Yes mommy...it was awesome." I was so proud of her.
Then she loudly announced "But it totally gave me a pudgy!" What?? "You know, I had to pull my bathing suit out of my butt cuz it was stuck up there." "Uhhhhh....you mean wedgy?" The wordsmith strikes again!

Angel in the Outfield

I'm not sure how all of you feel about angels...and I have to admit I had never really given them much thought outside of Bible study classes and occasional television shows and movies. So do I believe in angels? That is not an easy question to answer. But I have to say that since my daughter Lauren died, there have been many coincidences that I strongly believe could be considered "signs".
My mother and I attended almost all of Lauren's softball games at her home field in Avon Park, Florida and quite a few away games too. We became a regular fixture right outside the dugout at the fence line. We had really started getting to know the girls on her team and truly enjoyed going to the games regardless of
Lauren's amount of play time. Of course it is more fun to watch your child play but we were dedicated fans anyway.
The team had several games left in the season after we lost Lauren. My mom and I were feeling an additional emptiness by no longer attending. Therefore we decided to attend the final home game of the season. I had a meeting run a little late that afternoon causing us to arrive after the start of the game. The second inning had already begun. I busied myself with setting up my chair in its usual location by the fence.
All of a sudden people in the stands were trying to grab my attention asking me to look at the scoreboard. For a brief moment (until the next pitch) every space on the board was filled with a 2.  2 balls, 2 strikes, 2 outs in the 2nd inning....etc. I glanced up and thought "Wow, you sure don't see that everyday."  and went back to getting myself situated.
Then someone exclaimed..."It equals 20...if you add them all up the scoreboard reads twenty. Lauren's number!" A chill ran over my body and the hair on the back of my neck stood up on end. Could this really be happening? Was Lauren telling us she was there with us? Was my baby making her presence known?
Lauren's former high school softball team also had an extraordinary season this year and found themselves competing for the state championship. Several of her former team mates posted on Facebook and expressed a desire to win the trophy for Lauren. They even referred to her as their angel in the outfield. Whether this is true or not, the team ended up clinching the state title. I couldn't be prouder of the hard work the girls put in all season to reach their goal. I am touched that they choose to credit any of their victory to the presence of my Lauren.
Now just to add to the hair-raising impact of the event from the last college game my mom and I attended I must tell you that her team was competing against the same school she faced in her final game. The same school who had beaten her team severely in both games of the scheduled double header. I am thrilled to report that this time around they defeated their opponent in not just one but both games. Maybe this time they were receiving a boost in the form of some divine intervention from above. Stranger things have happened.

Guy at McDonald's

Six degrees of separation is the theory that everyone and everything is six or fewer steps away, by way of introduction, from any other person in the world. This means that a chain of "a friend of a friend" statements can be made to connect any two people in a maximum of six steps. The day following the news of my daughter's death I experienced this phenomenon first hand.
My friend Kim came by to visit and delivered some rather shocking news. I was still in such a fog that I didn't even understand what she was saying at first. Apparently her daughter, Lauren, had been hanging out with friends and eating a late meal in the parking lot of a local McDonald's on the night my daughter Lauren was killed. While sitting on the back tailgate of a friend's truck Lauren witnessed a heated exchange between the manager of the McDonald's and an angry customer. The squabble became escalated enough to draw her attention. She was so concerned about the man getting back into his car in such a hostile mood that she jotted down his license plate number to provide the manager who had stated he planned to inform the police This man was the driver of the car that lost control, crossed the median and struck the vehicle head on that my daughter was riding in that fateful night.
As I sat on my couch listening to Kim tell me the events that had transpired earlier in the evening the night my daughter died I couldn't believe what I was hearing. My head was spinning.Thoughts of concern for her daughter pressed to the forefront of my mind. How was she dealing with this?
Traveling into the land of "what ifs" is a straight, narrow and slippery slope my friend. I have diligently forced myself not to travel that road and I was now praying that Kim's daughter was not heading in that direction. You could easily become consumed with scenarios that play out in your mind all leading to a better outcome than what reality has cruelly dealt. "What if he left the parking lot seconds sooner....or later?"...."What if Lauren and her friends had taken the other route home that night?", even though I had always told her not to as it was more desolate than the highway. "What if the light at CR 39 had turned red and slowed the other driver down?"....the list can go on and on. My motto for the week after Lauren's death was "Don't think about what ifs....focus on what next!"
When Ray and I met with Pastor Tommy Green to plan Lauren's service another degree of separation was revealed. Apparently the manager at McDonald's that night had served his internship for becoming a youth pastor at our church. He had asked Tommy to provide me with his phone number so I could call him if I wanted to talk. I have the number stored in my phone but have not yet called. I'm not quite sure what to say.
Later that week Lauren (Kim's daughter) wrote a hypothetical letter:
"Dear guy at McDonald's, You got so mad when the manager told you to not park in the handicap parking spot. So what did you do? You drove up to the door and started cussing and screaming at him. You spit and cussed a little more. So I wrote down your license plate number to give to them. You left in such a fury that you ran the red light at 60 and Valrico. I was so happy that I wrote that plate down so I could bring u to justice before you hurt someone. Little did I know about 10 minutes later you hopped another median at 39 and 60 going 100 mph and hit two close friends of mine and killed them. All because you wanted a hamburger. Who knew that a hamburger would cost 4 people their lives including your own?
Sincerely, A devastated friend"
I read her letter and I wept. I wept for the loss of my daughter and the pain of her friend. I prayed that she would not be plagued by "what ifs". I prayed that she would find peace in knowing that this was out of any one's control. And I prayed that she would rely on the strength of our Lord and cherish all of her memories with my Lauren. No one can ever take those away from her....no one.

Riding the Roller Coaster

For the first two weeks after Lauren died I was on an emotional roller coaster. I would slowly climb up the steep incline of disbelief and denial then surge down the other side zipping and zagging through turns of intense anguish and despair. I was nauseous a majority of the time and struggled most days with a headache from crying.
My emotions really fluctuated wildly the week I returned to work. On the way home my first day back I had to stop by Costco for some items Kevin and I needed. I walked through the warehouse passing other patrons as I perused the aisles. All I wanted to do was scream! I wanted to yell at everyone "Why are you all walking around like normal? Don't you know I am heartbroken? Can't you all tell to look at me that I am a complete wreck?" They just kept walking and shopping like everything was right with the world.
The very next morning I attended my first meeting with all of my co workers in the staffing department. My emotions were now the exact opposite from the day before. I worried all the way to the building about how my colleagues would treat me. I didn't want them to be uncomfortable and treat me like I was broken or damaged goods. I was still me and still a professional for Pete's sake.
So...within a twenty four hour span I was angry over the lack of recognition by strangers and anxiety ridden about being viewed differently by those who know me. Talk about a roller coaster ride. I could hardly believe how quickly my emotions shifted.
But through all of the ups and downs, twists and turns, one emotion remained constant. Ever since I heard my daughter was gone I have felt lonely. This may seem odd considering all of the family and friends I had been surrounded with since that day but I just couldn't shake the feeling of loneliness.
I think back to when I went through my divorce. I used to chastise myself for being so ridiculous about the whole thing. My head told me "Hey, it's just one guy...there are a ton more out there...move on!" but my heart wasn't getting the message. I used to think how emotionally crippling it felt when the one person you wanted to still love you stops, you are convinced that no one else ever will.
What I was grappling with now was a million times worse. I could have been encircled by thousands upon thousands of people and still feel completely alone because the one person I wanted with me is not there. No one can bring her back and no one can ever take her place. She was my Lauren, my daughter, my friend.
I have evened out emotionally a little since the first couple of weeks but I still never leave the house without my waterproof mascara and yes, I still hate it. I attempt to keep my crying private. In the car and shower mostly. I am not sure if I will ever exit this roller coaster for good but I hope to take a break from it here and there. I never really liked roller coasters anyway.

Laid to rest

After seeing Lauren for the first time in her casket I decided that we would leave it open for the visitation. I felt that the church sanctuary was large enough that those who were not comfortable seeing her could remain a safe distance away and those who did wish to say good bye would be able to. Having arrived an hour before the doors opened for all attendants I was able to spend time with Lauren before the rush of people came to pay their respects.
A few minutes before 10:00 I asked the director to go ahead and open the doors. When I turned from the front of the room I noticed the first two people signing the guest book and heading down the aisle. The owner of the restaurant in which I work, Dahlia and her beautiful daughter Jennifer. Lauren had also worked at the restaurant beginning the summer prior to her senior year and remained until her softball season started that Spring. Ever since I had called Dahlia the morning of Lauren's accident she had been beside herself. Dahlia is a "doer" and a fixer. I could tell she was distraught by the text messages I had received from her over the next few days. She couldn't fix this. No one could.
She and Jennifer were the first to arrive and they went to the front to see my Lauren. This meant so much to me. For the next hour I hugged so many people as we shared kind words, tears and even a few laughs. I can always manage a laugh.
The message that day was so wonderful and so simple....with Jesus all is never lost. With Jesus we all will see each other again. With Jesus my Lauren is safe.
At the conclusion of the service I stood and followed the casket out the door. I watched as the pallbearers loaded it into the hearse parked just outside. Then I climbed once again into Ray's truck and waited. I watched people file out of the sanctuary. So many that I hadn't had the opportunity to speak to but who remained for the service anyway.  Friends I hadn't seen in years, co workers from the past and present, and many young people who knew Lauren.
Finally the time had come to drive to the cemetery. The hearse pulled slowly onto the street and Ray and I followed right behind. Kevin and his daughter McKenzie were in the next car. Ray and I laughed as the Deputies led us through intersection after intersection agreeing that Lauren would have gotten a real kick out of all of the traffic stopping attention.
We arrived graveside and everything was prepared. The hearse backed in near Lauren's plot. We allowed time for others to arrive. Many had accompanied us to the site. After a sufficient amount of time passed the pallbearers lifted the casket out of the back of the hearse and placed it on the support straps hovering over the hole in the ground where my daughter would soon be lowered.
I took my seat on the front row of the chairs that had been set out. I listened as my dear friend Sandie and her daughter Salena spoke so beautifully about my Lauren. I listened as her assistant coach Heather spoke kind words about Lauren's heart, soul and dedication. I listened as my Uncle Lloyd spoke about things Lauren had written. I listened and I sat. I stared at the casket and I stared at the rigging holding it from it's final resting place. I had already decided I would not stay after the service. I could not bear to watch my daughter being put into the ground.
When the graveside service ended I hugged more, cried more and yes, laughed a little more. Then I returned to the church to gather with my family for a meal. On the drive back to the dining hall I sadly thought that I really wish Lauren could have seen all the hoopla that had taken place for her that day. She would have been shocked and very flattered. I know she was watching and must have been amazed...she never knew how many lives she had touched in her short time with us. I'm not sure I fully understood either. I'm glad I know now.

Mother's Day

Today is the day we all celebrate mothers. It will be my first Mother's Day without my daughter Lauren. I actually had to contemplate this new phase of  life when my sisters and I were making plans for the day. We were talking about taking our parents to Bok Tower and the research online revealed that mothers received free admission on their special day. I paused...am I still a mother?
This is a strange predicament in which to find myself. I have step children from my previous and current marriages but Lauren was my only biological child. Now that she is gone am I technically no longer a mother? Of course everyone in my life insists that I am being silly and I am most certainly now and will always be a mother.
I remember when I became a mother. I was a mere 22 years old and a college student attending Valdosta State College in Georgia when I discovered I was pregnant. Yes I was an unwed mother. Thankfully our God is ever loving and forgiving as I certainly didn't always do everything right. I returned home and once my parents got over being disappointed (didn't take long) I settled in and started getting ready for baby.
I worked at a local restaurant to save money and attended classes at Hillsborough Community College part time. My pregnancy went very well until the last month. I developed toxemia which causes hypertension, fluid retention and edema. For this reason my doctor decided to induce labor a little early. The first attempt was unsuccessful and I was sent home after several days in the hospital. Lauren wasn't ready to join the world just yet.
I went in for a doctor's appointment on Friday, May 6, 1994 at 10:00 in the morning. Again my blood pressure was through the roof and again I was sent to the hospital. Due to the possible dangerous side effects of the medication I was receiving in order to keep my blood pressure under control during labor I was restricted to my bed. No walking in the hallway, no sitting up too long and no going to the bathroom....and bedpans are no fun when you have a big belly. Not that they're fun otherwise.
The process began around 11:00 on that Friday and Lauren Elizabeth was born at approximately 4:30 pm Saturday, May 7, 1994. Yes, 29 and a half hours later. Seven pounds and 1 ounce of beautiful baby girl. I was required to remain on bed rest for 24 hours following delivery and Lauren was placed in a special nursery as she had some of the medication I  had received in her system and needed to be closely monitored. The only place on her body the staff could place the IV she needed was in the top of her tiny little head. She looked like a pitiful Shriner in her funny little hat of tape and gauze.
The nurses said I could call anytime to check on her. I could have her in my room only when I had visitors as I was restricted to bed, me and my bed pan. I begged my mom to come out early the next morning so I could keep Lauren in the room. When I rang the nursery once to check on her the nurse who answered made me feel terrible. I mentioned that I was on bed rest until 4:30 that afternoon explaining that I was waiting for my mother to arrive to have Lauren brought up to the room. She then said " Oh, we were wondering why you hadn't called for your baby to be brought to you." I cried and cried. Here I was only hours into this thing called motherhood and I was already labeled an unfit mom. Maybe I wasn't cut out for this mother business. I guess my mom was just going to have to take over. I'm pretty sure I was a tad hormonal and on the sensitive side.
Sunday morning my mother arrived with my very first Mother's Day card. The signature read " Love Lauren (one day old)" I still have this card tucked away in Lauren's baby book. And thus the first of many cards to come had been delivered. Some bought in a store and others created lovingly by hand at school or church. I loved and cherished them and still have them all.
I know today will be difficult. I will enjoy the day with my family...it is actually my dad's 78th birthday also. I will miss my Lauren terribly but I will always be a mom. Her mom.

Snuggle Tummy

"Snuggle tummy" referred to a ritual Lauren and I shared as mommy and daughter. Either of us would loudly disclaim "snuggle tummy" right before pouncing on the other and hugging and snuggling rather aggressively. This started when Lauren was a baby and I would lay on the couch or bed with her on my tummy and hug her soooo tight rocking her from side to side. I started calling it "snuggle tummy" and she would laugh and laugh.

This routine continued into toddler hood and beyond. And when I say beyond I mean it never stopped. If I was laying stretched out on the couch, relaxing and minding my own business, Lauren loved to run into our living room loudly declaring "SNUGGLE TUMMY" and literally become airborne right before landing directly on my stomach. I would fuss, as she was not the little tot she once was, and she would laugh. She was the size of a grown woman. But secretly I loved it. OK, not so secretly I guess because she knew it.

Lauren had a friend who lived down the street from my parents named....wait for it....Lauren. Her mother's name is Kim. When I had both of my girls with me and they went down the road to play it would be Lauren, Lauren, and Lauren. Good times. One day Kim called me to tell me she had given my Lauren Elizabeth a little test to discover her Love Language.

For those of you unfamiliar with this philosophy allow me to briefly explain. There have been several books written about the varying modes people utilize to express and desire to be shown love. The idea is based on research by marriage counselors after years of working with couples. I was first introduced to this theory when Ray and I were beginning to struggle in our marriage. The concept describes five languages of love which are affirming words, quality time, physical touch, acts of service and receiving gifts. I am writing this from memory and may not have the exact titles but you can get the idea.

So Kim called and said she had purchased the kid version of the book and had administered the test to the girls. She asked if I wanted to know what the process revealed as Lauren's number one Love Language. I stopped her to say that I already knew my daughter's top love language. Kim asked if I had done the test with Lauren previously and I said no, but I know my kid. Her highest ranking love language had to be physical touch. Kim was amazed that I had figured this out on my own.  When you have a teenager who still loves to play "snuggle tummy" it's kind of easy to know she expresses her love with touch.

This posed problems at times. When she was still dating Joe, the driver of the car she was riding in that fateful night, I used to tell her "Lauren, you don't have to hang all over Joe the whole time you are on the couch with him watching TV." But here's the thing, yes she did. Why? Because she loved him and that is how she shows love. It might make others uncomfortable but to her it was natural. This physical touch is not in a sexual sense but a showing of affection. Holding hands, laying your head on some one's shoulder, hugging, touching some one's arm while speaking to them are only some examples of how someone who expresses love through physical touch operates.

As I remember the last night I saw Lauren I remember her hugs the most. Plural because she hugged me once when she approached us in the breezeway of the stadium where we were all gathered awaiting her to exit from the dugout and then again right before heading to the bus. I can still feel her arms around me squeezing tight. Unfortunately I can still smell her too....isn't softball wonderful? But I wouldn't trade the memory of those hugs for anything. Well, maybe I would trade them for going back in time and altering that early morning's events.  But since that is out of the realm of possibilities I will just have to think back upon and cherish all of the "snuggle tummys" of times gone by. Gone but never forgotten.

Standing Room Only

I was informed later that Lauren's service had somewhere between 800 and 900 people in attendance. I was so focused on maintaining some small shred of decorum that I was operating with tunnel vision. I did glance back once and became aware that the line to come in the sanctuary was lengthy but had no idea so many had come to pay their respects. The plan that morning was for family to arrive at 9:00 to have a private viewing followed by receiving guests promptly at 10:00 with the service set to begin at 11:00. The plans had all been taken care of as Ray and I had met with the pastor a few days before. But I am here to tell you...no amount of planning can ever make you "prepared".
We made it to the church on time. As I entered the back of the sanctuary I glanced at the guestbook displayed on a podium and asked Ray to leave some of the pictures we had brought from home on the back window sill for guests to see as they walked in. I know that I was stalling and attempting to delay the inevitable. I knew I would be seeing Lauren soon.
As Ray and I climbed into his truck that morning at the house and started the short trip to the church one thought prevailed in my mind. "I really hope at least a few people got my baby some flowers so her service will be pretty." When I finally mustered up the nerve to turn my attention to the front of the sanctuary tears instantly filled my eyes. I have never seen so many beautiful flower arrangements in one place in my entire life. I later wrote 52 thank you notes for floral arrangements alone.
But there in the middle of all of this outpouring of beauty and love stood a casket. Beautiful in it's own right as I had chosen a lovely grey and silver style, this vessel held the love of my life. Within its satin ruffles and upon it's delicate pillow lay my daughter, my child, my heart and soul. And now it was time for me to see her.
The walk down the aisle was tricky and my emotions were mixed. I was overjoyed with the exquisiteness of the flowers and grief stricken by their purpose. Thrilled that so many people had thought so kindly of Lauren to send them and devastated that they had done so for this reason.
I didn't hesitate at the front because by this time I wanted to see her. I needed to see her. So I swiftly approached her casket and peered inside for the first time. An overwhelming sense of relief and calmness washed over me as I looked down at my daughter that day. She lay so still, so quiet and so peaceful. Considering the appalling circumstances of her death I thought she looked beautiful. Like an angel.
It was in that moment I knew without a shadow of a doubt that she was fine. She was not really here. This service was not really for her but for us. For us to say our good byes. For us to experience some sort of finality and gain a sense of closure. Because it was right then and there that I knew without reservation that my Lauren was in heaven and watching over us all. And even though I wish desperately she were still here among us to love, to laugh and to live...I never knew more than I did in that exact moment that all is well. I only pray that those of us left behind will continue to find comfort in knowing this and may it give us strength on the days we miss her so.

Please Leave a Message

The morning of my daughter's funeral dawned bright, sunny and beautiful. I prayed that it would be just that way. I woke early that day as I had not slept well at all the night before. So many things weighed heavily on my mind and thoughts raced incessantly. I was nervous about seeing Lauren. Up to this point I had not seen her.

On the day of the accident I received a call from the medical examiner for Hillsborough County. I finally had the answer to where my baby had been taken. The female examiner expressed her condolences and then needed to ask several questions. Had Lauren broken any bones lately and had x-rays taken? My heart fell directly into the pit of my stomach. I informed the examiner that our family had recently switched dentists and Lauren had dental x-rays taken less than two months prior. I immediately asked if this was the only way possible to identify my precious daughter? The fear rocked me to my very core. A mental image of the mangled vehicles instantly flashed before my eyes. What was the condition of the light of my life? 

Thoughts of her broken body swarmed to the forefront of my mind. Again I worried that she had suffered. What were her injuries? Would I be able to allow the casket to be open? Is this really happening to me? Am I really sitting here contemplating the logistics of my daughter's funeral? 

The kind woman on the other end of the phone assured me that she did not need the dental records because Lauren was unrecognizable. It is preferable to identify victims in this manner to save families from being required to come to the office and view pictures of their loved ones in the most devastating of conditions. A huge weight was lifted from my heart. I provided the dentist's contact information and hung up the phone.

Then I prayed. A desperate prayer of a mother asking her ever gracious and loving God to make this all be a huge misunderstanding. A case of mistaken identity. But time was running out. Soon there would be no doubt. No room for false hope or fantasies. No possibility for a happy ending.

The voice mail that was left by the medical examiner hours later that day still remains on my cell phone. I recognized the number but couldn't bring myself to answer. I listened a few minutes later...."Hello, this message is for Kimberly Jahn. This is Monica calling from the medical examiner's office just calling to let you know that we have positively identified Lauren Phillips through dental x-rays. I just wanted to let you know so you guys have a heads up for tomorrow and can go ahead and progress with the arrangements. If you have any questions please give me a call."

No....I have no questions. None that could be answered anyway. I just sat in my chair phone held limply in my hand. I can't recall how long I stared at the floor but I imagine it was a substantial amount of time. I knew I had to get up but my body wouldn't move. I had to go tell my family and friends who had gathered at my house that I had received confirmation of our worst fears. I willed my legs to move and delivered the devastating news.

Lauren was gone. Thank God we will be reunited with her in His kingdom but for now, in this lifetime and on this Earth she is lost to us all. I replayed the message a few hours later just to make sure. That message, which lasts a whole 27 seconds, altered my life forever. 

I wish I had never heard it...and all of this was a terrible dream. 

Happy Birthday Baby

Today my daughter Lauren would have turned 20....if she hadn't died. I have thought a lot about this day and have been plagued with apprehension. How will I feel? What should I do to celebrate? Will I be so distraught that I will not be able to go to work? I can report that I did go to work and attempted to stay as busy as possible. Scheduling meetings, talking to angry parents on the phone, advocating for ornery students with frustrated administrators and other exciting endeavours. What a wonderful way to drown my pain.
As this date was rapidly approaching I have become rather nostalgic looking back and remembering birthdays from the past. All I have now are the memories of birthdays gone by. I thought a brief walk down memory lane might do me some good.
Lauren had some rather memorable birthday celebrations indeed. Of course her 1st birthday was fantastic and she received way too many gifts. One was an inflatable pool and it was filled with all of the other trinkets. Of course we had the obligatory bowling birthday party and the Chuck E. Cheese germ fest party. But a few of Lauren's celebrations were more eventful than others.
The year Lauren turned 8 we decided to borrow my parents motor home and invite a handful of her friends to camp overnight in a county park nearby. The park is next door to a riding stable so the plan was to go horseback riding. What a fun activity. It was a disaster. One horse kept running back to the feed trough while another literally stood in one spot and refused to move. We called him "Glue"...as in not moving at all and one step from heading to the factory. Not nice I know but no one said I'm nice. But all the while Lauren kept her spirits up and never complained. Even though she was saddled atop of "Glue"!
The adventure continued that weekend as we were leaving the campground. I assured my ex-husband that I was more than capable of driving the motor home. As I exited our assigned space I thought I was home free. Suddenly Ray was honking from the car behind me and flagging me down. Apparently I had turned too sharply and the back bumper, which extends well beyond the wheel well on large motor homes, had caught the spigot and ripped it from the ground. Water was now spewing up like Old Faithful all over the site. Needless to say a marital spat ensued but in the end Ray fixed the pipe and all was well. By the way, this happened on Sunday, Mother's Day.
When Lauren was turning 10 we had relocated to an area south of Jacksonville. She had started playing softball at the local park and wanted a pool party at the house to include all of her team mates. One little girl on her team had a birthday within the same week. Her parents were not in a financial position to fund a party for her. I prayed about the situation and presented Lauren with an idea. "How about a double party for both of you?" "Awesome! That would be even more fun mommy" was Lauren's response. It never entered her mind to be selfish. So I made the invitations for both girls and even featured them both on the cake I had made with the "pool" theme. Two little faces in the pool made of blue icing.
For her sweet 16 Lauren decided she wanted to invite a handful of close friends and stay a night out at the beach. By this time I was a single mom and operating on a greatly reduced budget but hey, that's what grandparents are for. My parents treated with covering the cost of the hotel room and we were set. The next year she asked to do the same thing hoping to make this trip to the beach a new tradition. Around dinner time we all loaded into my mom's minivan to head out for dinner. We drove about 30 minutes down the beach to a trendy area with several restaurants to choose from. When we pulled in and parked the car an announcement was bellowed from the back seat. "I don't have any shoes!" Of the 5 girls in the car...3 had forgotten to wear shoes including my own kid. Seriously??? So we loaded back up, went across the pass, and headed for a tourist souvenir shop in search of flip flops. I made it abundantly clear that all shoes purchased would be a size 9....MY size as they were all going to be mine after this little adventure. The girls giggled, all found shoes, and dinner was lovely.
So tonight my family will meet at Beef o Brady's for dinner. We have eaten and celebrated at this same spot for Lauren's two most recent birthday's. I only wish I had known that her 19th would be her last. Would I have done something more? I'm not sure how you party on your last birthday especially when you have no clue the next will come to pass without your participation. So we will eat, laugh and probably cry a little. Then I will take balloons to Lauren's grave. She always loved balloons.

Honorary Graduate

This afternoon I will travel to South Florida State College in Avon Park, Florida to walk across a stage and accept an honorary Associate of Arts degree for my daughter Lauren. I cannot begin to describe the outpouring of support, love and adoration this school has shown for my daughter since her death. I was already impressed with the college while Lauren attended and the entire faculty, staff and student body have continued to amaze me to this day.
Now everything wasn't always without difficulty. Lauren called me one day in the fall to report that she had gotten in trouble. Apparently the college has a strict policy against allowing other students to utilize your technology equipment... in this case, a flash drive. Lauren had forgotten her drive in her computer class one day and when she inquired as to whether the professor had found it the response was to check a table containing several drives. Lauren retrieved one that she thought was hers and proceeded to pull up the assignment in need of completion. She realized that the drive belonged to another student but thought it would be alright to upload the information she needed as the assignment had been completed collectively in class. She then returned the drive to the rightful owner and informed her that she had taken the information she needed, asking if that was OK. The owner of the drive said yes but to be careful as she had already allowed another student to use it earlier.
The professor discovered the fact that the same drive had been used by multiple students and was not pleased. Lauren's coach had to break the news as he had been notified by the professor. She was mortified to say the least. When she called me she was not yet sure of the repercussions of her actions. I informed her she would have to face the music as she was well aware that what she was doing was against policy. I never defended my child if she did something wrong. I always prayed that she would learn from her mistakes and receive a penalty commensurate with her "crime" and not disproportionately punitive but I never attempted to save her.
The end result was that Lauren received a zero on the assignment. She was willing to accept the consequences for her poor choices but she was extremely distressed by the fact that the other student who used the drive denied any involvement and received a passing grade. I allowed her to vent her feelings and then did as I always did...pointed out a valuable life lesson. I explained to Lauren that dishonest people sometimes appear to win or get ahead in life. One day they will more than likely fall as a result of their unscrupulousness but it was not up to her to determine their fate. I also delicately (not really) pointed out that if she kept up with her own equipment none of this would have happened in the first place. Gotta love moms right?
Other than this unfortunate incident, Lauren's time at SFSC was a true blessing. Living on her own was great for her, and me. We were in that natural place in our relationship where independence needed to be established. Playing softball again was a dream come true. And working toward her degree in elementary education was a stepping stone on the path to becoming a kindergarten teacher. Overall life was on track and heading in the right direction. So tonight I will hold my head high and try with all my might not to cry as I walk across that stage in honor of my Lauren to accept her degree with great pride. The only thing that could make it better would be seeing Lauren accept it herself. I know she will be watching...more than likely saying "Dear Lord don't let my mom trip!" Gotta love that kid.

Mother to Mother

As I began to find out more details about Lauren's fatal automobile accident I couldn't help but think of all of the families affected. Four precious lives were lost in this tragedy and all of those who knew and loved them are now left to pick up the pieces and move on without them. I also struggled with intense self imposed condemnation over the fact that Joe and Jenna were coming to give my daughter a ride home when this crash occurred. Would their families be angry with her and wish their children had never taken that trip?
But of all the families involved my heart broke the most for the mother of the driver who lost control of his car and crossed the median that fateful morning. I wondered how she was handling everything. The news media had not been kind in their reporting of the "at fault" driver. Every news story advertised that he had an extensive criminal history including drug charges and that he was presently driving with a revoked license.
Now many people expected me to be angry and perhaps even vindictive. But I was just morose. I could not imagine the grief that the other driver's mother must have been experiencing. I almost felt guilty that the stories on the television about Lauren were so glowing. Not that my child didn't deserve to be portrayed in such a manner but my mind and heart kept thinking of one specific mom.
When you are a mother you never, I mean never stop worrying about your children. There are times in life when you are more at peace than others but there is always this small nagging fear which resides in a mother's heart which cannot be described. For a few months leading up to the accident I kept experiencing a periodic yet persistent feeling of impending doom. It would hit me unexpectedly like a wave of panic or a cold chill of anxiety. I prayed about this feeling and asked God to please take care of Lauren. I must admit I also asked God.."Please don't let her do anything incredibly stupid!"
Lauren had a habit of calling me and dropping an emotional bomb right about the time I believed things in her life were running smoothly. For this reason I attempted to dismiss my ominous premonitions as being just that....a typical day in the life of Lauren's mom. I expected her to call one day and announce that she was miserable and wanted to quit school and return home. The thought of this irritated me to no end. So I prayed daily that the call would not come. Now I desperately wish she would call to tell me anything. I mean ANYTHING.
Yet my heart was heavy for another mom too. I have the benefit of complete peace with knowing the person my daughter was and the life she was leading at the time of her death. She was on such a positive path that although it is disheartening to never have the privilege and joy of seeing her complete her journey it is comforting to know where she was headed. Not so, I believe, for the mother of the other driver that morning.
Adult children (even those not yet adult age) make independent decisions which parents have very little if any control over. Does this make a mother's love any less potent? As your children become older you pray that the foundation you built and nurtured within their hearts and minds remains strong enough to fortify them through the experiences they will face in life. You pray that they will make healthy, positive and Godly decisions. But this is not always the case. But do you stop loving them?
No...you never cease to love. Just as I love Lauren so does the mother of the other driver from that day. If the news media was accurately reporting the story of his past then she has already suffered many times over as she watched her son make decisions that were not in his best interest including the decision to get behind the wheel that early morning. I can only hope that she too prayed for her child to change his ways and start on a more positive path in his life. As a Christian I believe that it is never too late to make that change as God's mercy surely makes all things possible. But he has no tomorrows now. His mother will never receive that phone call or visit from her son saying "Hey mom....I'm ready to make some changes in my life for the better."
And that has left me despondent.

Saved by Softball

Of all the phone calls I made the day my daughter died one of the most difficult was to Lauren's college softball coach Carlos. I briefly wrote earlier about the less than stellar performance by Lauren's team the night she played in her final game. Both games of the double header were lost by evoking the 10 run and 8 run rules. For those of you unfamiliar with softball, when a team is losing by 10 runs by the 4th inning they are put out of their misery. In college, as I had learned only a week earlier, a similar rule exists for teams losing by 8 runs in the 5th inning. This being said, needless to say Coach Carlos was less than thrilled with his team.
Lauren and I had been texting back and forth the night she rode the bus with her team back to school for the last time. She expressed that Carlos was still upset with the team and was giving them the silent treatment. Having been a coach myself, I completely understood his pain. It is beyond frustrating to watch a group of talented girls play so beneath their ability. And of course there is the fact that it is a poor reflection on you as the coach. This is a sad but true perception in all sports.
I need to take you back in time to when Lauren decided to play softball again. She had given up on ball halfway into the season her senior year of high school and ended up quitting the team. I was not pleased with her decision but as always supported her independent right to make it. As time went on and she watched her friends post softball successes on facebook she became riddled with regret. Had she given up too soon? Was a comeback still possible?
Lauren would occasionally become frustrated socially and hit overload status. The spring of 2013 she started complaining that the local state college she was attending was just like high school and she wished she could get away. "I just want to go to school in the middle of nowhere!" she exclaimed one day. Being the control freak I am...the search for a new school began.
I started my research looking for community and state colleges with dorms. There are only a few. South Florida State College appeared on the list offering a student housing facility three miles from the campus. Then I remembered that the softball coach had shown some interest in Lauren when she was still in high school. The school is located in Avon Park, Florida. Talk about middle of nowhere. It was perfect.
Lauren started communicating with Coach Carlos through email. We looked up the softball schedule online and picked a day to visit the school and attend a game. I'll never forget the day Lauren, my mother and I went to the school for the first time. Carlos was so gracious as we paraded into his office. We talked about Lauren's pitching ability and her deep desire to return to the game. Carlos announced she could consider herself on the team. What a wonderful man to give my baby a chance on the spot, sight unseen.
So it was settled. Lauren would start school at SFSC the following Fall and play softball. We could not be more thrilled. I worked almost everyday at the restaurant that summer to save enough money to cover the fees for tuition and housing.  August came around quickly and she was off. Living at school, attending classes and playing softball again. Life was good.
Just before Christmas break I received a call from Lauren relaying great news. She told me that Coach Carlos had asked her to come to his office. When she arrived he showed her a sheet of paper and asked her to verify that all of her information was correct like her address, birth date, social security number, etc. She said to me "Mom, I saw something that said scholarship but I didn't want to say anything". My wonderfully gracious girl would never make assumptions. When she assured Carlos that all was correct he asked her to sign the form. It was then that he announced she had just signed her scholarship. She was so excited when she called. Kevin and I drove out to school that very night to celebrate. We took Lauren to a restaurant of her choice. She ALWAYS chose a buffet that featured all you can eat sushi and other Chinese and Japanese cuisines.
The team had it's challenges as does any group of late adolescent females but Lauren was having the time of her life. She was growing so much. She would defend others on the team if they were being picked on. In the past she would tell me these stories of her altruistic attempts to stand up for someone and the end result sometimes didn't hit the mark. Lauren would relay this super sassy diatribe and I would ask "Did you really say that?" and she would respond "No....but I thought it." and we would chuckle. Now recently I would ask the same question and she would boldly answer "YES I did!" I would smile and think "You go girl!!" She was becoming quite a force to be reckoned with and I couldn't be prouder.
Her softball team has been so supportive since the day Lauren died. The have organized fundraisers by selling t-shirts and bracelets which honor my girl and have even established a website to collect donations. I was thrilled to tell them I plan to start a scholarship in Lauren's name at the school. This way she can continue to help others as she always loved to do.
The team also paid tribute the Tuesday prior to Lauren's service. It was beautiful. Carlos presented me with several of Lauren's jerseys for my keeping. I promptly changed into one of them to wear for the rest of the evening. The girls also released balloons in Lauren's memory, created a sign in the outfield with her number, 20, and the other team also participated. Before the game that Thursday they released lanterns from the field. I did not attend this event but the pictures I received are gorgeous. My heart was filled with appreciation.
I am forever indebted to Carlos and his girls for taking such good care of my Lauren, in life and after. I thank them, love them, and pray God always blesses them.