Intrusion of Death

Most mothers would say that they know their child's heart...in a theoretical way. I, on the other hand, know my daughter's heart literally. I know exactly how much it weighs, it's color and the condition of its interior. The state of Florida requires an autopsy be performed for all accidental deaths. Since receiving a copy of Lauren's autopsy report last week I am now privy to more details about her heart and other areas of her body than any mother ever needs to be.
Death keeps no secrets. There is no veil of protection from the most intimate details of a person's life once they are gone. Death requires those left behind to delve into all areas of their loved one's existence. Financial, health, recreation, friends, dreams....no area is left untouched.
I have lost loved ones in the past but have never been responsible for handling the "business" that comes following their passing. Never have I been within the generation who would need to take on such a role. Therefore I was not aware of how much time and effort goes into sorting out the affairs of someone you have lost.
As your children grow older their right to and need for privacy increases. After all, they are becoming young adults. When my daughter Lauren died I had to go and pack all of her belongings and remove them from her dorm room at school. Aside from functioning in a fog, as I was completing this task a mere week after her accident, I felt so intrusive. No drawer could be left unopened, no paper untouched. Every part of her room, her life, open to examination.
It isn't that I feared what I might find. I knew my child well. But I still believed that she had the right to parts of her life which were her own and not to be shared with me or anyone else unless she chose to do so. Yet in death nothing can be kept hidden. Everything is revealed. Her autopsy included a toxicology report. It came as no surprise to me that the only substance found in her blood was caffeine.
I made the mistake of opening Lauren's autopsy while in my office at work. I thought to myself "I already know what I know so how bad can it be?" Let me tell you...I did not know what I thought I knew. Although her death certificate had to list the cause of death and I had already processed that information, I was not aware of how much additional damage had been done to her precious body that fateful night.
I wept as I read the details of the injuries that had taken place as the car flipped multiple times finding its final resting place upside down beside the road. I prayed that her death had been swift and merciful upon impact and her injuries were unknown to and not felt by her that night. Please Dear Lord I hope my baby was not in pain.
After reading the report I think back and am extremely thankful that I was able to see Lauren and say good bye. It was truly a blessing from God that I was able to leave her casket open for others to also see her one last time if they chose to. All things considered, she looked absolutely beautiful that day.
A dear friend of mine, Shelly, comforted me perfectly after I shared my feelings about Lauren's report with her. She texted me the next day and wrote "You have been in my thoughts last night and this morning. I am so sorry that you had to read all the trauma that your baby's body had to go through. I won't say that I know what you're going through because I just don't. I have been praying for you to have comfort and peace of mind that God scooped Lauren's soul up straight to Heaven without a scratch in it. Her poor body was left to take the worse but she was already enjoying the peace and joy of God's love in Heaven."
Amen.....I couldn't have said it better myself.

Miscommunication and Mishaps

Although her expressive language skills were top notch...at times Lauren's receptive communication abilities were lacking. She didn't always understand what Ray and I were asking her to do. We even had her hearing checked as she had suffered with meningitis at age 4 and hearing loss can be a side effect. But all results were within normal limits and life went on pretty smoothly.
Most of the time a simple restatement on our part provided the clarity Lauren needed to get our gist. I remember one occasion, however, that Ray delivered a message that Lauren got completely wrong. She was about 7 or 8 at the time and we were living in Lakeland. Our house sat far back on a long lot and we had a pretty lengthy driveway. The toilet in our guest bathroom was not working properly so Ray was working on it. He had used our wet/dry shop vac which he had just cleaned thoroughly and ensured was in perfect working order prior to starting the project. He was sitting on the floor of the bathroom and needed a bit more working space so he called Lauren who was playing in her room directly across the hall. "Take the shop vac and set it by the Jeep." he instructed. We owned a refurbished 1986 Jeep CJ 7 at the time and it was parked right in front of the garage door. Ray then went about his work.
I was cleaning the kitchen when about 5 minutes later Lauren entered the house from the garage and asked Ray..."Was somebody supposed to come and get that vroom vroom thing?" "Uh...you mean the shop vac?" Ray said. "Yeah...that thing" Lauren answered. Ray was now curious and said "No...why?" Lauren sincerely explained "Well I set it by the street like you said and a van came by and picked it up." "STREET..I said to put it by the JEEP!" Ray exclaimed while rushing out the door to see if the van was still in sight. Poor Lauren. We never let her live that one down. Anytime we saw a shop vac we harassed her. Hey, that's what families are for right?
Another mishap took place when Ray's wedding ring went missing. We searched and searched everywhere. I checked the laundry area in the garage, tore apart our bedroom and even looked in the traps under the sinks. We eventually gave up and went to purchase another identical ring...although the original one was engraved on the inside. But the new one would have to do.
Months later I was giving Lauren's room a thorough Spring cleaning part of which was to completely remove everything from her closet. Sitting atop her closet shelf was a RoboParrot toy we had gotten her a few years earlier. I grabbed it by the back and pulled it down from the shelf. Low and behold but what did I find pinned in its lovely little robobeak....Ray's wedding ring! Good gravy, I thought, what am I gonna do with that kid! Love her....that's what I did.

The Chameleon

I treated Lauren to her first highlights in her hair for her birthday when she turned 12. She had been talking about them for some time but I didn't think it was appropriate to start such processes too young. Some might think 12 is too young but I promise, it was only little touches to her already dirty blond hair.
Then as she got older Lauren loved to experiment with her hair color. The only thing I insisted upon was that she always stay within some natural hair color family....red, blond, brunette or even black but no green, purple or pink. She respected my boundaries but did push them to the limits sometimes. The trouble with me trying to tame her hair color changing obsession was that she could pull off every single color she tried.
She was beautiful as a blond, ravishing as a red head, a bombshell as a brunette and even when she did a little funky black color with a touch of red around her face she looked cute as could be. Lauren's skin, although she battled an occasional breakout, was gorgeous. It was pale like mine but not as freckled thanks to her dad. He eyes were a bright green ringed with a little blue. The perfect combination of natural coloring to be capable of looking great with any hair color she chose.
When she was little we allowed her hair to grow all the way down her back. It was naturally blond and had just a little curl in it. When we moved to the lake front house in Lakeland we finally had to cut it up to her shoulders. No matter what product I tried I could never remove all of the minerals from the lake water and combing it out became a battle that was not worth fighting.
Every now and then Lauren would choose a red that was a little orange and bright. But people loved it and would compliment her only fueling her desire to keep coloring it. One complication from her desire to color her hair was the fact that her bathroom looked like someone had been injured in there if I didn't stay on her to clean up properly. Especially when using red hair dye. My toilet seat still has stains on the lid where she forgot to wipe it all up before it dried.
Another issue came into play when she didn't keep up with the applications and the darker roots started showing. I remember one such occasion where she had gone too long between dye jobs . I had affectionately referred to Lauren as "Rainbow Bright" for about a week in an attempt to give her the hint to fix her hair. The ends had faded back to dark blond, the shafts were still red and the roots were brown. She and I went to dinner at one of our favorite restaurants one night and I couldn't take it anymore. After dinner we walked down the plaza to a fairly new hair salon and asked if they could fit her in. About $180.00 later she was a stunning red head again.
All of this drove my mother crazy but I reminded her that this was a pretty innocuous way for Lauren to express herself. She was very artistic so she innately desired expression. I thought she handled it well.
I suppose she had decided on a color she liked just before her accident. When I went to pack all of her things in her dorm room she had pinned a portion of the box of hair color to her bulletin board. I guess this was her way of remembering which type to buy the next time.
I considered getting the same color and doing my hair as a way of honoring her...you think of anything and everything possible to do to feel close to your child when she is gone. But I would never be able to pull it off like my beautiful Lauren did. So I stick to my own color and keep moving on remembering my little chameleon and how gorgeous she was, inside and out, regardless of the color of her hair.

Facing the Unexpected

Kevin and I attended church Sunday for Father's Day. I knew the day was going to be emotionally tough as I worried about Ray and how he was handling everything. I remember all too well how difficult Mother's Day had been on me.
The sermon that morning was delivered by our Pastor of College and Youth Singles. He did a phenomenal job. He was extremely candid about the tragedy he and his wife have endured since January by losing not one but two babies to miscarriages. The most recent took place a couple of weeks after Easter. The message revolved around what happens when we are faced with something unexpected in our lives. Needless to say, a State Trooper at my door around 4:15 in the morning on March 28 delivering the devastating news of my beautiful daughter's death was totally unexpected. Never in my wildest imagination would I have considered such an event occurring upon going to sleep that night before.
The pastor talked about turning an unexpected tragedy into an unexpected opportunity. An opportunity to blow others' expectations away. He spoke of how his own loss has brought him even closer to his wife and strengthened their marriage. He expressed how he had to humble himself before the Lord and completely rely on His grace to see him out of the "Hell on Earth" he was traveling through. He could not "fix" this (as most men want to do) and had to depend on his faith in God. God will see us through if we allow Him to.
It was as if the entire message was just for me. I do not fancy myself to be the only person in the sanctuary who is going through a traumatic loss, but I desperately needed to hear the exact words being uttered that morning. Of course I cried the entire time and even turned to Kevin at one point and said "Please don't let me ever come to church again without tissues....ever!" while I attempted to wipe my tear stained cheeks with my bare hands.
Using your story was also emphasized throughout the sermon. Creating a testimony for God's love and work through your own tragedy. I have been struggling with this for weeks. I don't particularly like my story....especially the latest chapter. I write it here as a way to purge my broken heart and cleanse my mind if only very temporarily. But what is its message? I pray for clarity. All I can see now is misery and pain. How can this help anyone?
My favorite part of the sermon was when the young and enthusiastic pastor informed the congregation that Jesus is not inept. When something tragic happens in our lives our Savior is not running around Heaven in a panic asking "What do I do now?" He sits at the right hand of God and is more than capable of knowing what to do next. It is I who feels inept. I who struggles to move forward each and every day. I who debates whether or not to hang my dead daughter's stocking this Christmas. And I who doesn't yet understand what to do with my story. After all, even though I don't like it, it's the only one I've got.

Ugly Kitty

Lauren always loved kittens. Unfortunately she had a bad run of luck in recent years with being a kitty mommy. I allowed her to talk me into a kitten from a litter that her friend's cat had given birth to. This little orange kitty was tiny but feisty so we decided to call him Napoleon....he had a complex! He was a sweet little guy and Lauren loved him. The agreement was she could have him inside to visit but he mostly had to live outside. We were not going to start keeping a litter box inside because I knew she would not keep up with it.
Around the same time I had adopted a mutt from a friend of mine to keep my dog KC company. Kody, as I named him, was a Treeing Walker Coon hound mix that had wandered up onto my friend's property way out in the country. This tends to happen at times when a hunting dog doesn't perform well. The owner drives them way out into the woods and leaves them there. The deal I made with my friend Ruby was if her husband came over to help me put gates up and close in my otherwise completely fenced back yard I would take the pooch.
My shower has a window overlooking the back yard. I would be in the shower getting ready for work in the morning with the window open to allow steam to escape and that darn cat would be meowing in a tree right behind the house. Being the sappy sucker I am I would get my ladder (after exiting the shower and getting dressed of course) and rescue poor Napoleon. Now I am telling you this happened at least twice a week in the exact same tree. I always scolded the little guy but it didn't seem to help.
Morning time is also when I let the dogs out for potty and exercise. I never put two and two together until the fateful morning that little Napoleon didn't make it to the tree in time and Kody, the innately programmed hunting dog, caught him. Again I was in the shower when I heard the ruckus. I immediately started shouting at Kody out the open window to leave Napoleon alone as I scrambled to get out of the water, grab my robe and run to the back yard. Sadly I was too late. Then I had to break the news to Lauren. My heart broke for her.
Kody was removed from our home the following week. He wasn't a good fit for our family for many other reasons and not based on this incident alone. I fully understand he was just doing what came naturally. I lamented over the fact that I had fussed at poor Napoleon for running to that tree and getting stuck. Little did I know he was trying to survive. Shame on me.
Time passed and once again Lauren got the "itch" to get another kitten as soon as she heard that my sister Beth's neighbor had some available. The same deal was made about no litter box and she went to select her new baby. My sister accompanied her to look at the kittens. I have to tell you that Lauren picked the ugliest little kitten out of the bunch. Even my sister recalls asking her if she was sure she wanted the one she picked out. The kitten is a black ¨tortoiseshell¨ cat which means she has blotches of color throughout her black coat. And her nose is completely covered with an orange stripe.
When Lauren brought her home we started talking about names. The little kitty was somewhat uncoordinated and would knock things off our side tables when she jumped atop of them. Then she would give us a look as if saying she was sorry. All of a sudden a name came to me....Gilly.
Kristen Wiig had a running bit on Saturday Night Live in which she portrays a bratty little girl named Gilly. In these skits Gilly wreaks all sorts of havoc and the other characters say her name..."Giiiiillllllyyyyyyy?", dragging it out and then the camera closes in on her as she says "Shawy" (sorry) in a funny, lispy voice. Lauren loved those skits and made me watch them with her on YouTube all the time. When I suggested the name we laughed and laughed. Lauren loved it instantly.
So, the ugly little kitty was named Gilly. Gilly was a good little kitty and spent some time inside but mostly outside. I have another cat named Sophie who is not the most welcoming of gals but she was starting to become a little accepting of Gilly. Then all of a sudden Gilly was gone. We checked to make sure we hadn't accidentally closed her up in our detached garage but she wasn't there. Kevin worried that maybe a hawk had snatched her as she was still pretty small. I looked on the roads daily as I went to and from work worried that maybe she had been hit by a car. She simply disappeared. Poor Lauren. Months went by with no sign of Gilly.
Then all of a sudden we had a sighting. We would see her on occasion and then weeks would go by with nothing. I was worried she would come back pregnant. We had not gotten her spayed yet. That was all I needed...a bunch of kittens. This pattern remained up until Lauren's death. Then Gilly started coming around a little more. She would be in our driveway when we came home or Kevin would see her eating the food we put on the back porch for Sophie.
In recent weeks she has been at the house daily. The other night I set out a little bowl of food and water on the carport for her. Kevin is less than thrilled that I am setting up an additional pet area at our house. I informed him that I am worried that Sophie will run Gilly off too much in the back and I see nothing wrong with having a back porch kitty AND a carport kitty. He loves me and will tolerate me like the great husband he is. I am truly blessed.
Something about having that little ugly kitty around helps my heart feel better. She is a reminder of my sweet Lauren's love and acceptance. She always stuck up for the under dog and didn't judge others based on outward appearances...not even kittens. I can happily report that Gilly is not pregnant. Probably because she is so durn ugly the other cats won't have her. I know, I know...I'm terrible.

Deciding on Dad

When Lauren was born I was a single mom. Her father Mitchell and I had dated for a while but in the end did not work out long term. I was working as a server in a local restaurant and going to school. Dating wasn't really a high priority.
Then I received a call out of the blue from Mitchell's sister Christine. She announced that she was getting married soon and wanted me to be her maid of honor. She also wanted me to meet her finance's friend because she thought we would hit it off. I asked a little about him. She informed me that he was recently divorced and had two kids. Great...I thought, this is going to be interesting.
Needless to say, without going into too much detail, I did end up really liking this guy. Ray and I were married three and a half months from the day we met. Lauren was only 21 months old. I became step mom to his two kiddos and he became dad to Lauren. Unfortunately Mitchell and I had not remained in contact and therefore Lauren had not even met him.
So, for the 12 years Ray and I were married he was Lauren's dad. When she was little he used to read her Disney books and loved messing up the words to make Lauren giggle. Cinderella became ¨Send her a fella¨ and his favorite was Sleeping Beauty who he immediately named ¨Sleeping Booty¨. Lauren acted upset and tried to correct him but she was laughing too hard.
Ray provided a great parental balance and contributed to raising Lauren to become the wonderful person she was when we tragically lost her. He was firm where I was lenient and he was tender where I was tough. It worked out well and Lauren even thanked us as she got older for the manner in which we brought her up and taught her respect for others and their property. The respect for property was a little extreme due to Ray's borderline obsessive compulsive disorder and anal retentiveness but we still loved him anyway.
When our marriage took a turn for the worse my heart broke for Lauren. It wasn't her fault that Ray and I couldn't get off the crazy merry go round we found ourselves stuck on and get our acts together yet her life was altered immensely from our decision to divorce. And because we had never completed a legal adoption Ray technically had no obligation to Lauren as a father.....legally at least.
I had some people in my life who felt I should force Lauren to no longer see Ray. He was not paying child support so he didn't have the right to see the child. This was the rationale those folks used to try to convince me. Again, always relates to the all mighty dollar.
I admit it was tough being a single mom again and I could have used a bit more financial help at times but here's the thing....Ray was Lauren's dad in her heart. Keeping him in her life was not a decision for me to make. She was old enough to decide for herself. Although they encountered a few rough patches along the way Lauren never stopped loving Ray as her dad.
When she and I moved back to Brandon after the divorce I also reconnected with Mitchell and his family who lived about an hour away. Lauren was thrilled with the opportunity to get to know Mitchell and gaining another sister, Morgan, was a definite bonus.
This Sunday is Father's Day. Ray will surely celebrate with his children Donnie and Lauren Michelle. But I know he will also be heartbroken as he misses our Lauren. After all, she had decided that he was her dad.

Hopewell

Hopewell is an unincorporated community in Hillsborough County. It is also where my daughter Lauren died. I find it ironic that within about 50 yards of the scene of the fatal car crash that took her life is a standard green department of transportation sign indicating to drivers that they have just entered Hopewell.
Now there are three more signs accompanying the green Hopewell marker. The department of transportation has erected memorial the signs we requested for Lauren, Joe and Jenna reminding all to drive safely. These signs are affectionately referred to in the biz as "lollipop" signs due to their round white tops.
This "area" is so small that as I researched it further all I found was a definition in the GNIS or Geographic Names Information System. It is categorized as a "populated place". Defined as a place or area with clustered or scattered buildings and a permanent human population (city, settlement, town, village). A populated place is usually not incorporated and by definition has no legal boundaries. However, a populated place may have a corresponding "civil" record, the legal boundaries of which may or may not coincide with the perceived populated place.
I have driven on this stretch of road countless times and I don't recall ever noticing this Hopewell sign. I always considered this part of the state road to be Plant City, the larger town near by. Perhaps the locals would quickly inform me that Hopewell is its own very distinct area but until this tragedy I had never given it a second thought.
I tell you all of this to emphasize the minimal importance of this specific location to most of the general population. But to me it is by far one of the most significant areas in the world. It is here that my life was changed forever. It is here that a piece of me died along with my precious daughter. And it is here that events unfolded that caused my faith in God to be thrust into focus with such urgency, intensity and desperation that it almost left me breathless. I still smile at the name on this sign as I pray for continued strength and think to myself...I HOPE all is WELL with my Lauren.