March 19, 2000

I remember the details of this day like it was yesterday…it is still all so surreal. It was a day that changed many lives forever - a day friendships stood firm - a day of overwhelming grief - a day that changed my view on life forever. It was the day I realized how short life really is, and that we really only have a vapor of time to make a difference.

It was Sunday afternoon about 1:00 pm on March 19, 2000. My ‘then husband’ and I had just returned home from church, put our daughters (then, ages 2 ½ and five months old) down for a nap. It’s a beautiful spring sunny day outside, but all I can think about is my plush pillow top bed after the horrible night’s sleep I had the night before from being up with my five month old.

My ‘then’ husband was downstairs on the computer. Both daughters were asleep. The house was quiet…

The phone rang…

In that moment life changed forever…

Our pastor called looking for my dear friend, Carol. Her husband was currently on a mission’s trip in Iceland and he needed to reach her immediately. He knew Carol and I were close friends. He knew my ‘then’ husband and her husband David were best friends. He knew I would know how to reach her. But he would not tell me why.
Perplexed and knowing something was wrong… we hung up as he tried to locate her by calling someone else.

The phone rings again…

His unsuccessful attempt to locate Carol led him back to me. He proceeds to tell me that we must find Carol immediately. I explained to him – again - that I thought she was getting Easter pictures made of the girls at the mall…reaching her would be difficult.
He then tells me David had a heart attack. He was in the middle of drumming the song, “I Walk by Faith” at a church in Iceland when the drums stopped and he slumped over. That was it. Just like that. In a matter of seconds he went from praising God here on earth, to praising Him at the foot of his glorious throne.

In that moment life changed.

Forever.

My dear friend Carol was left to raise three daughters and was pregnant with their fourth. David was always so proud of his little harem, but he would never lay eyes on Anna.

I was with Carol and helped hold her up when our pastor told her the news.

I was in her living room looking for the phone book while she took Ashley (her nine year old) up stairs to tell her that her daddy had died. I cringed as that little girl wailed her heart out as her mother held her in her arms. I took Tara outside so she wouldn’t hear what was going on and get scared.

I stayed by her side for the next days, which turned into weeks, and then into months, and finally years. I helped her get all the paperwork and ugly details taken care of, like getting on food stamps (she did not work – she had 3 children – she was pregnant with her 4th) - I helped her get Social Security – I helped her finalize her tax returns – I helped her budget and think through going back to school.

I was there when she gave birth to Anna, an incredibly tender moment - a moment that we all wished her father could be present to witness. A moment we all cried as Anna breathed in her first breath of life.

I helped Carol box up David’s clothes. I helped her sell his drum equipment. I cried with her as we pulled out the Christmas lights for the Christmas tree and saw how he had neatly labeled each strand on where it belonged.

I was there the day the U-Haul pulled up to load all her belongs into the truck. I kept busy…vacuuming and wiping down window seals… grieving in my own small way over my dear friend moving… but knowing the whole time it was for the best. She needed to be close to her parents now.

She and I had become like sisters. Our daughters were like sisters. People must have thought we were crazy when the two of us showed up at the park or pool with six girls! But… the time was here. The time for her to move on. For me to move on. She asked me to do her one favor - to keep flowers on the grave every March.

Even now that she has moved away and remarried – and I have divorced... remarried... seperated... we can still pick up the phone after months of not talking and pick up right where we left off.

Yep… a rare find.

A life giving – life taking – life sustaining relationship.

Each year on March 19th, I take flowers to David’s gravesite for Carol and the girls. Each year in March as the tulips are bursting and the daffodils are waking to life, I take a moment to realize how short this life on earth really is. And I remind myself to live it to the fullest. To take time to make a difference. To take time to touch a life… for in the end, it’s the lives we touch that matter. I remind myself to slow down… smell the flowers… follow a butterfly's flutter… and stare at a few stars…