I remember the night before on May 16th, we had gone to church and my dad was particularly -obviously- upset as he lead worship. While he was usually characteristically charismatic and enthusiastic as he sang, I remember his eyes were dead, and his face held the same blank expression the entire service. I remember feeling so concerned.
A week before, at a "Dads and Daughters" event, I was in the classroom with other kids after the service. A baby bird fell from her nest and was caught under a bush outside the window (we were in an underground room, and so the window was high up looking out onto the ground outside). I loved animals, and hoisted my small frame out the window to rescue the quivering blue bird. When my dad came to pick me up from the classroom at the end of the night, I cupped the little bird against my chest and begged him to let me keep it. My dad and I shared a special bond over our love for animals, and I had had several wild "pets" in previous years, including a dying chipmunk, a bird with a broken wing, and a baby snake. I fully expected him to let me take this new favorite of mine home in a box and nurse it to full robust health. But, he didn't even look at me when I asked. I didn't understand the same blank expression on his face I would see again a week later in the church service. His voice was heavy and deep when he brushed me off and told me that of course I couldn't keep it, almost biting out each word. I was so hurt, and I cried as I let the little bird free.
Now, after the church service a week after the blue bird incident, I remember coming home and noticing through the window my mom on the back porch by herself, even before I had time to come into the house myself. She hugged herself and I watched her rock back and forth, wracked with heaving sobs. I was terrified - I had never ever seen my mom lose control in this way. I remember my siblings and I kept our voices at a whisper as we got ready for bed that night. My sister and I shared a room at that time, and I remember discussing with her what could be wrong. We slipped into our beds, and I felt so confused when my mom came to say goodnight. She had a huge smile plastered on her face and her voice was strangely sing-songy as she told us that of course everything was fine. I felt that things were positively not fine.
The next day, I woke up and the morning was like any other morning at our house. My sister and I were playing with our American Girl dolls, and I had my doll horse perched on the table in our room. I was brushing out the maine and tail. I heard my dad run down the stairs. His steps were heavy and fast on the hardwood steps above me, and I knew he was late for work. "Goodbye, I love you!" he yelled, as the door slammed behind him. Through the window next to the door, I saw him running down the sidewalk towards his truck as I yelled that I loved him too, while still brushing my horse. How many times have I wished that I would have run out the door after him!
Our day was not normal. My mom seemed very fragile - too collected, her voice too even. She played with us outside, which was not something we did very often. Usually my dad was outside and my mom was inside. Afterwards, we went to Chickfila and all of us ended our meal with ice cream - a very rare and very special treat! As we arrived home that night, I noticed that my dad's truck was not in the driveway. I didn't think a thing of it though. I took a bath, and combed my newly cut (very short) hair. I put on an all white nightgown that reminded me of Audrey Hepburn in My Fair Lady when she sang, "I could have danced all night". I remember vividly feeling quite pretty, and I floated up the stairs to help my siblings with their bath.
I was half-way up the stairs when I saw the policeman at the door. My mom was again hugging herself, wide-eyed, and nodding at the solemn man. She closed the door behind her as she talked with him for what seemed like forever. My sister and I helped bathe the little ones, all of us in an especially good mood after our very fun day full of play time and sugar. After they were clean, we watched our Mom talking with the policeman. "Something's fishy!" we squealed, giggling at the funny figure of speech. After a while, some of our neighbor's arrived and stood around my mom and the cop, serious expressions clouding their faces. We put a movie on downstairs to keep the little ones occupied.
Eventually, after a very long time, my Mom came into the room trailed by what seemed like everyone we knew. I was immediately scared, and I felt my breath catch in my throat. She sat on the couch, arms close by her side, clenching her hands together so her knuckles were white. Her eyes were wide again.
"Kids, you have a new Father"
I remember a million thoughts rushing through my ten-year-old brain. The first being that my parents were getting a divorce. The second thought was that my dad had been in a car accident. I could even see the white truck hit the guard rail on the highway in my head.
She continued to explain how we had a new Father because God was our father. I don't remember word for word what she said, but I remember not understanding that he was dead until much later on in the night. I think she explained that he committed suicide, but I don't think I knew much about what that was, or could even comprehend it at that point. Kayla started sobbing, screaming, loudly. I was suddenly sandwiched between two men, one I remember as Mr. Reggie, the other I can't remember. They held me upright as I was filled with an emotion I had never felt before: Enormous grief, devastation, and loss.
"Even as I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for You are with me"
The room was filled with heaving, groaning sobs. I remember looking over on the couch and seeing my brother Brandon staring blankly into space. I remember the room was filled with people. Filled. I was shaking, but the two men embraced me so tightly.
Later, as the immediate shock of the news wore off, I went to get water for the guests. As I filled up the paper cups in the bathroom with water, I looked intensely into the mirror at my reflection. I took a deep breath and felt my body tense. I felt the weight of needing to be strong for my family. "Okay, God" I said audibly to my reflection, "You're my father now". The cup grew soggy in my hand as I let the feeling sink in. I didn't feel alone. I felt peace. It was then that I knew the Lord was holding my heart tightly in His arms and I truly felt that He knew what I was feeling. I didn't cry anymore.
"Even as the deer longs for flowing streams, so my soul longs for You, Oh Lord"
I have quickly grown to love your blog. Thank you for sharing your thoughts. It takes a lot of courage to write about things you just want to keep inside. I've found that through my transparency comes healing. I'm praying for you and your whole family. God has surely blessed you all!
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