Picking Up The Pieces

After a tragic event on any scale… one is left to pick up the pieces. It is no secret that over the past two years, I have been unsuccessful in picking up and putting back together the pieces of my grief that has followed the loss of my dear sister. Two years ago, on August 14th, my sister was coming home from her very first ultrasound appointment and was killed in a car accident. She was three months pregnant. Her husband was following behind her, and witnessed the whole accident. Life does not always follow the patterns we would like. Sometimes… despite our best efforts… we are left to try and pick up the pieces.

The trouble is that in life, we create expectations without realizing them. In every vision of my life… I expected my sister to be there.  Graduating with my Master’s, the birth of my child, birthdays, anniversaries, loss, and life in general.  These are all things that my sister has not or will not be present for in my life.  It’s hard when we create an expectation in our minds, and then life produces an event that alters all future events. Sickness, disease, death, addictions, gossip, depression, infidelity, and an array of tragic events all have the power and ability to destroy.  What you’re left with after encountering these types of events can challenge you to your core because you were not expecting these unwanted events.  When we make plans in life, we expect God to fit into OUR expectations. God does not work that way. Our prayers are not room service, our desires are not made-to-order the way we envision them. The book of Ecclesiastes tells us no man knows when his hour will come, and that just like we do not understand the wind, we can understand the work of God.   We must find a way to go on, even when we don’t understand. We won’t always understand, but we must go on. We may never get closure, we may never get a cure, we may never get sobriety, we may never get an apology; but we must go on.  We might always grieve shared embraces, re-live memories, and always feel quite empty…even in crowded rooms… but we must go on…we must find a way to pick up the pieces…because our hour has not yet come. God is not finished with us yet.

My sister was amazing. I don’t say that for effect, I don’t say that just because… I say that because it’s true. She was beautiful inside and out, she was strong, she was bold, she was funny, she was caring, and most of all she was LOVING. Mandi loved God, her family, her friends, people in general, animals and life. When I say animals, I mean… this girl LOVED animals, namely dogs. I don’t know how else to explain their importance to her except to tell this story. Shortly after my sister’s obituary was printed in the paper, my grandmother called me very upset that Dixie, Princess, and Bandit (my sister’s Rat Terriers) were mentioned in the obituary directly above my own name. She stated that whoever wrote it that way had made a poor choice. She could only laugh when I told her that I myself, had sat at the table and suggested it be written that way, and that everyone was in agreement. If you knew Mandi, you knew that that’s the ONLY way it should have been written. There are plenty of things Mandi enjoyed, including: Yankee candles, decorating for the holidays, the holidays themselves, cooking and baking, riding four-wheelers, spending time with her family and friends, Japanese food, the color purple, birthday cake (even when it wasn’t someone’s birthday!), Dansko shoes, crazy colored toenail polish, lip gloss, the Fall, Blessed Hope Church, country music, anything John Deere, fun printed socks, and I could keep going. The most important thing Mandi loved was God. Mandi loved and lived for God daily. It was apparent in her actions and her words.  She would give to any worthy cause, incuding her time, effort and money.  She loved to laugh. She had a gorgeous smile and a laugh that I will never forget. Even though I don’t understand, even though there are days that “going on” seems too hard, I am so grateful for each and every day with her by my side.  Although tears will continue to flow, I wanted to express positive words as the second anniversary of her death approaches. Because… this is the second anniversary of her rebirth into Heaven. The second anniversary of her release from the pain and chains of this life and into her eternal life with her Savior in Paradise.  Though we don’t understand, I know that she will be waiting for us, and I will see her again.  That is enough to get me through most days. Until we meet again.

Addisyn visiting Aunt Mandi’s grave at 3 months old.