Moment of Impact

In the days following what I now call our "moment of impact" I had to tell and retell what happened. It seemed everyone wanted to know. Within the first 2 hours I must have told at least 5 people. With each new time I had to relive those moments, it became more real. At first I felt like I was telling someone else's story. This didn't happen to MY husband. Not MY family. It couldn't have possibly happened to US! With each phone call I made, each person I told the most devastating news to, I slipped further and further into a panic. Finally, after realizing many really didn't truly care, they just wanted info, to be a part of this tragedy, I refused to talk anymore. And the mass of people who did care and really were trying to help, I appreciate you more than I've ever put in words. Friends and family showed up and pitched in wherever needed, and I can't thank you enough!! However, it was also exhausting trying to assure the masses that I was ok, when in reality I wasn't sure how I was. I  made a decision and notified a few key people and simply said "please tell people we need our space and would like some privacy. Please hold all calls and visits and let people know I will not be answering any questions about what happened or how. I can't do it." And I was so relieved when our preacher, and best friend, Paul, announced at church that we'd like our privacy and just simply stop asking. And I'm thankful that few have since asked, even though I know most are curious.

So here it is...the events that happened that forever turned our lives upside down. The moment of impact.

Thursday 11-14-13, Buddy wasn't feeling well and missed his Dr appt that morning because he didn't feel up to going. As the day progressed, I got more worried about him. The kids had been sick with a stomach virus the previous weekend and he was convinced he had gotten it as well. Many events occurred that day between his Drs nurses and the two of us that  I cannot speak about at the moment so I'll stop there with that.  From this point on I'm going from memory, which is mostly a fog now. There are a lot of things I don't remember, which is why I wrote it all down immediately, at the insistence of a wise friend. I will not consult that log though...so this is an estimate, as most things in my writings here will be. The times and dates may be off, but the reality is the same.

The day went as usual...kids got home, we had dinner, baths and bed time. Buddy wasn't feeling well so he stayed in bed but did get up some to get drinks and stuff. The boys went in our bedroom and watched tv with him some; meaning they watched tv and he slept for the most part. Right before bed, Tyler made a Get Well Soon card and asked everyone to sign it. I mention this because I still have it, and it is forever burned into my mind with such pain. We all signed his card and the boys went in before bed time to give it to him, have him his nightly hugs, kisses and snuggles and I tucked them in for the night. Caylee stayed up wrestless and itching as usual. I got her to sleep around 10:30pm and went in to check on Buddy. I refilled his water, talked with him a little and was more worried about him. I always worry when one of my loves isn't feeling well. He assured me again that he was fine and that he had a Dr appt in the morning. He asked that I take him this time because he wasn't sure he could drive. I agreed that we'd get up earlier and get the kids to school so we could make his appt when they opened. At some point Caylee woke up and I left him in bed to tend to her. Once I got  her back to sleep I went back in to check on Buddy and he was sleeping. I went back in the living room to read, before going to bed myself. My nightly relaxation. I was trying to finish reading a book so I could read the new book in the series that I had just purchased. Around midnight, Buddy called for me. He was cold. I checked the thermostat which was set at it's usual temperature but turned the heat up a little for him. I helped fluff his pillows and get comfortable in bed and we just say and talked. Those 30 min mean the absolute world to me now. Though had I known it was the last time I would speak to him I'd probably have so much more to ask now. I am content though, that while I didn't say goodbye, we shared a beautiful 30 min together. We talked briefly about the new baby on the way and confirmed that yes we were decided on the name Caleb Austin. He talked about his plans of fishing the upstairs bathroom and getting the guest room set up in time for my family to come for thanksgiving.  We laughed about the silly things the kids had done, and said, that day. I talked about Christmas plans and being so excited about having our first Christmas in our new dream home and how I couldn't wait to have the Christmas tree next to the fireplace, with the stocking hung from the new mantel he would build me. During my rambling on, he fell asleep, in true Buddy fashion. I can't think of many nights that he didn't fall asleep to the sound of my voice. It was just out thing to talk at night and well, I usually did a lot of the talking. It's so odd to me now, the next few things that happened. And it makes me wonder if we have some sense of when something isn't right, or that our world is about to change. Buddy and I never went to bed without a goodnight kiss or saying I love you. Not once. Even if one of us were upset with the other, it was common place for the one who wasn't upset, to kiss the other and jokingly (and sometimes not, on my part) say "I love you, even though you are a jerk!" But this night was just different. I sat there for a few minutes, just watching him sleep. Watching the rise and fall of his chest, and I layed my head on his chest and just listened to the sound of his heart beat. I closed my eyes, and just listened. I got up slow ly, as not to wake him, and ran my hand down the side of his face, and just paused. I held my hand on his face and leaned down and kissed his nose, then his forehead and whispered "I love you baby, sleep well." I walked out of my bedroom and paused at the doorway. And for reasons I may never understand, I started crying. And very vividly I remember thinking to myself, "don't look back". For just a few seconds, I felt this unexplainable pain, sadness, fear. I felt utterly lost, and I collapsed against the wall in the hallway crying my eyes out. Immediately I shook it off and thought how silly and hormonal I must be! I wiped my eyes as I walked back to the living room and reminded myself that we had to be up early. It's was around 12:45am now and I decided I'd just stay up through the night to check on him and make sure we didn't over sleep. So I began reading.

The moment of impact....
Caylee woke up screaming. I wasn't sure what time it was, because I had fallen asleep on the couch, reading. I went to her room and got her out of bed and brought her to the living room and noticed she was soaking wet and had an explosive diaper. She and I were both covered in poop. Oh the joys of parenthood! I got her changed and took her to her room with me to get her new clothes and change her sheets. Thankfully I've learned a trick and put 2 sheets on her bed with a waterproof pad between the first and second set so all I had to do was remove the top sheet and pad, and was able to do that holding her. I got her dressed and made her a new bottle and put her on the couch. She immediately laid down and drifted back to sleep so I left her on the couch to go change my soiled shirt. I went in my bedroom. The tv was on, as usual, but it was dark. I made my way to my side of the room and just blindly grabbed a shirt and changed. I noticed it was eerily quiet while changing. Once the light from the tv shone brighter, that silence became deafening. The image is forever burned into my mind, and has become the nightmare of my life, that I will probably forever try to forget. I saw my Love's face with blood stained fluid coming from his nose, mouth and ears. It felt like a lifetime, but probably was no more than a second, that I just stood, staring, in disbelief. The first thing that popped in my mind was my earlier breakdown in the hall. That feeling of utter despair, gut wrenching fear and blinding pain. I knew. I rushed to him, calling out "baby! Baby!!! BABY!! Baby PLEASE!!!! Oh no, God please don't do this!" I grabbed his hand. I beat on his chest. I lifted his head and started attempting CPR. Internally I was screaming and begging God. I kept repeating "God no. Please no. Please please please" over and over. From this point on it's almost like my body was on autopilot and I was somewhere else. (This is in fact, how I still am much today, 8 1/2 months later) It's like I became 2 people and there was the part of my that was dying, lost and frantic, and then there was the part of me that was commanding the next move, the next action to take. The rational side of me screamed to the irrational part, that was still pumping his chest and breathing into his mouth, that I was too late, the blood is dry, he's been gone too long. And at that moment, I surrendered. I surrendered to my darkest fears and the fate of what I could not change. The father of my children, the man of my dreams, the love of my life, the very breath of my existence, is dead. I sat beside him, holding his hand, and just cried. I sat there and just strokes his hair and told him everything I've already said a million times in our lifetime together. I told him I loved him. I told him thank you for loving me so completely and giving me everything I ever wanted. I told him to save me a seat. I started praying again, begging God...he's raised the dead before. He's God! He can do anything! I pleaded...I'll give up our dream home, I'll be homeless, I'll never ask for anything else as long as I live! Take the time I have left and divide it, please! Take me instead! Anything! But not this!! And at that moment I heard a little voice, "momma? Momma what's wrong?" I turned to see Tyler, our 8 year old, walking to my door. Then Caylee began to cry almost instantly. And I heard Buddy. I heard him clear as day, "don't let my babies see me like this." Maybe I imagined it, maybe it was me, maybe it really was him. I can't answer that, but I do know that he wouldn't have wanted that for his babies. It's amazing how strength can kick in. God answered my prayers, but not in the way I asked. He did give me strength though. I ran to my door and pulled myself together in an instant, and closed our door behind me. I hurried Tyler away and hurried him to the living room where Caylee has just woken back up on the couch. I sat him down with her and said "I need you to sit here with your sister and hold her ok? I need to make some calls and I'm just going on the porch for a minute. You stay right here with her ok?" I grabbed my phone, opened the blind so I could see them and went on the porch. I didn't want the police, medical examiner and anyone showing up with the kids here. I knew I had to get them to safety. I couldn't do anything else for Buddy, but I could protect our babies.

I found Buddy right at 2am. At 2:28am I called my best friend, Allison, to come and get the kids. She feels so bad about our conversations that morning. I find them humorous and think they fit Buddy's humor so much that it was just fitting. When I called the first time I was again sobbing hysterically and stumbling over my words. I said something to the effect of "you have to come get the kids NOW. I just found Buddy. Allison, he's dead." <click> She hung up. I stood there for a second thinking oh good she's coming! Then I thought, no she would have said something...she didn't understand. So I called back. <click> At that point I  realized she was sleeping and it didn't register. (I later found out, talking about these events with her and Paul, that she jumped out of bed and went and woke her girls up to get ready for school, then realized what time it was) I called back again and she answered, half asleep and confused "you need me? How's Buddy?" All I could get out was "not good." She then obviously woke up a little and was thinking over everything and said "he's alive right? He IS alive!" And I said "no, he's dead, Allsion. He's dead!" and started sobbing all over. I managed to tell her to come quickly and I was waiting a few minutes to call the police because they needed to be gone before anyone arrived. I don't remember my words or what communication took place. I just remember her saying "we'll be right there. I love you!"

I went in and checked on Caylee and Tyler. I could tell he was a little confused, but I just told him everything would be ok and they were going to go to Mrs. Allison's house a little earlier now. I started throwing things in bags for the kids. Trying to think of everything they would need, especially Caylee with all her allergies. In a way, it was a welcome focus to think about something else. But my mind kept thinking back to Buddy, laying in our bed. I wanted nothing more than to just crawl in that bed with him, and leave with him as well. I had to focus though.

I waited and stepped back outside and called the police. I'm still amazed at how numb I was by that point. Autopilot. "Yes, I need you to send an officer. I just found my husband in our bed. He's dead." The words I spoke seem so cold and factual now. Autopilot. The lady asked "is he breathing?" My sarcastic humor is always my default "last I checked, dead meant not breathing, moron! I think I know what dead means!" She assured me that she was dispatching an officer and notifying the proper authorities. I hung up the phone and looked at it and actually laughed. Did she really just ask me if I was sure? Ummmmm....idiot!!

I went inside, woke up Mykael and told him to get dressed. Allison and Paul arrived. They went to our room immediately, and I will never forget the look on Paul's face. Hopeless. He looked at me. The look in his eyes was pure empathetic pain. He looked at Allison, he looked at me, he looked at Buddy and said "come on. Help me. What do I do? Have you tried CPR? Come on!....." I told him I tried. I told him it was too late. And I recognized the look in their eyes...they too had to accept the fact of what was. I began explaining the logic of how I tried, how long it had been.... Paul looked defeated. We all just stood there staring, lost. I heard the commotion of the kids again. Allison and I ran out to keep the kids away. Paul stayed with Buddy for some time. We got everything packed and thankfully she thought to remember that school would still be in and we discussed how it was probably best to send them to school for a normal day while I took care of the tasks at hand. Pail come and helped load the kids up, get the car seat installed and I watched Allison drive off, knowing today, Friday November 15, 2013 was their last normal day of life, as we know it.

Paul stayed with me. I am forever grateful that he stayed, and that Allison loaned me her precious husband, to just be there. I'm not sure how things would have been, had he not been there as support. We waited for what seemed like hours. Around 4am, the first officer showed. I answered all his questions, gave a statement and he went to our bedroom. I remember sitting at the dining room table wanting to pounce on him. I felt so protective of Buddy. I didn't like that officer in there and I was growing increasingly annoyed by him and kept wishing I could just make him leave. Make everyone leave. Just leave me, with my Honey, and let us be. A second officer arrived and then the two went back to our room. Eventually more people arrived and that's where all the events get fuzzy. I know there were 2 officers and either a paramedic or a fireman. I couldn't tell you which. Each new person that arrived meant yet another person that I had to recount the days events and what happened. Questions. Constant questions. All I wanted to do was scream. At some point my mom called me back...though I don't remember calling her in the first place. I just remember her saying "oh God! Ok, we're coming!" My sister arrived at some point not long after that. My mom called her. Paul, my sister and I stayed in the dining room and kitchen. I'm sure we talked, or maybe we didn't. I don't remember. I just remember people coming in and out and each time someone walked in that room, OUR ROOM, I had to stop myself from going crazy and just kicking them all out. The coroner arrived as well, and at some point an elderly couple from the funeral home. She came and spoke to me and advised we go sit in the living room because they were about to take Buddy out and that "this will be the hard part." Looking back, that was the easiest part. I was numb. I was in a fog. This wasn't happening to me. It was an out of body type of thing. They wheeled him out, in a dark blue body bag, on a stretcher. They were taking him for an autopsy and said the funeral home would be in touch with me later. This isn't real.

For the rest of the day...Paul had to go home at some point because they had a friend flying in from New Jersey. My sister stayed with me. My mom and step dad arrived. Food arrived, calls came in, decisions to be made, calls I had to make. It seemed never ending. Autopilot. If it hadn't been for my own mom, I don't think I would have remembered to eat or do any normal function.

The kids arrived home later that evening. We...I had to break the news to them. I'm not sure how I did it. I don't remember what I said. I just remember their crying. Their tears. Their pain. We spent a while taking, me answering questions they had and as resilient as kids are, they eventually went to play. They too were on their own form of autopilot.

The last thing I remember of that day, was my mom telling me I needed to get some rest. In the last 48 hrs I had gotten maybe 3 hours of sleep, but I didn't notice. I went to our room and couldn't stand to lay where he last laid. Paul had his cousin come over earlier and clean our mattress. The bed was made with new sheets and comforter that Buddy and I had picked out the previous week. I should have been exhausted, and maybe I was, but the feeling of loneliness far out weighed any normal feeling I should have felt. Once I sat down I started feeling the impact of how long I had been awake, standing, almost 32 weeks pregnant. I finally settled on making the bed the opposite way and laying at the foot of the bed. I cried, uncontrollably, as soon as I felt our son move within. I held my bulging tummy, thinking of all that should have been, but would never be. I needed the one person who could hold me and make me feel ok. The one person who knew me better than I even knew myself at times. The one person who completed me. The one person I could never have again. I became desperate for him. I was lost. I still am lost. I got up and searched my room. Immediately I noticed my favorite shirt he wore, just 8 days before, when we went out on our last date alone, to celebrate our anniversary. I pulled it down from where it was draped on the closet door, and held it close. It smelled just like him. I breathed in the scent of my Love and panicked thinking it would one day lose it's smell. I went through a pile of his clothes and found another shirt he'd worn that day. It too carried his scent. I curled up at the foot of our bed, clutching his shirts and buried my face in them and cried, until I fell asleep. A full 24 hrs had passed. 24 hours without the man I didn't want to spend another second without...