Friday, November 6, 2015

September Sadness

September 2015 will go down as one of the hardest months of my entire life.  I'm 51 years old, so that's a lot of life.

My work in non-profit requires exceptional amounts of fundraising.  One of our biggest and most financially dependent events of the year is our annual banquet.  This year it was scheduled for September 15.  We had a sold out crowd, a great speaker lined up and a wonderful evening of entertainment.  This is the time when I can shake hands and personally thank our donors, share our vision for the future and report the great work we've done throughout the year.  I always look forward to this event, but this year, for the first time, I missed it.

One of my favorite side jobs is decorating, designing and staging properties for my daughter's property management company.  As I was driving to meet with one of my newest client's the Thursday before our banquet, I received a phone call from my Uncle Alan.  It was September 10, 2015.  The tone of Alan's voice worried me.  I was right to be worried.  He was calling to give me some very bad news.  My Uncle Leon and Aunt Neda, who were like parents to me growing up, had been in a car accident on their way to a Classic Car Show in Gatlinburg.  The semi in front of them had blown a tire and in the hopes of avoiding the debris, my Uncle Leon swerved to miss it.  He lost control of the car and they hit the guardrail and rolled several times.  My Uncle Leon, the man I'd respected and loved my whole life was gone.  My Aunt was and is still devastated.

Needless to say, my banquet became less significant, yet I was still torn because I knew so many were depending on me.  But, I had to get to N.C. for his funeral, which was held the same day as our banquet on September 15.   Thanks to the incredible staff I lead and I'm privileged to work with and a supporting board, they took care of everything and the banquet was a huge success.  They really don't need me that much after all.

Our family was heartbroken over the loss of Uncle Leon.  This was supposed to be a happy time! Kendra, my daughter, and Brandon's Wedding was coming up in just two more weeks!  Uncle Leon and Aunt Neda had already RSVP'd and now it was not to be.  There would now be two empty seats. The morning following his funeral, I had to fly to NY to speak at another fundraising event and then returned back to Nashville to prepare for Kendra's wedding, which was taking place in N.C. on Friday, September 25.

I did my very best to check on my Aunt Neda daily and in keeping my feelings under control.  I didn't want to take away from Kendra and Brandon's wedding festivities.  This should be the happiest time of their lives and I was determined to do my very best to keep it that way.

The week of wedding and family fun went well.   We were all together.  We loved sharing memories of Uncle Leon, even though we were still in shock.  During the week, I made the hour drive back to see my Aunt in the midst of  "wedding week" because she was struggling badly.  Kendra was so gracious to understand this.

On Thursday night, Brandon's parents hosted a beautiful Rehearsal Dinner.  All the parent's were given the opportunity to speak.  I was able to talk about what Kendra means to me and how happy I am that she'd found a man as perfect for her as Brandon, who absolutely adores my daughter.

The next morning, the day of the Wedding, was now upon us.  It was raining.  We realized their dreams of an outdoor wedding were not to be.  This broke my heart for them.  Kendra and Brandon had wanted to be married outside in the woods, surrounded by nature and had already chosen the perfect spot.  She cried when she realized it wasn't going to happen.  I reminded her it didn't matter where the wedding took place, as long as she was Brandon's wife.  She agreed. We had no choice, so the decision was made to bring the wedding inside.  The venue was gorgeous regardless, although the venue hostess caused Kendra too much unnecessary grief over the simplest things.  Kendra cried more than she should have.  That woman's job was to make her feel secure, not an emotional mess because "that can't go there" and "I don't know if I'll allow you to do this" kind of crap.  I thought I was going to have to go "mommy crazy" on her!  Tawni and Teryn, instead, took care of it for me. They asked her to only speak to them and stay away from Kendra.  She was stressed out enough. There was some drama with robes not showing up, people arguing, etc.  Regular wedding day stuff.

We arrived at the venue around 9 am to begin the wedding preparations.  The make-up and hair people would be arriving at noon.  I would be the first in the "chair".  Hair took around 30 minutes. Now, it was time for make-up.  I proceeded to sit in the make-up chair and was so excited! Everything was coming together.  It was my daughter's wedding day!  Kendra would be marrying the man of her dreams.  She'd had had such a rough week with the venue hostess that I just wanted this day to be perfect for her.  Everyone did.

The make-up artist and I shared a conversation about the wedding and how much I loved Brandon and was so excited about him joining our family.  After a few minutes, while she was putting mascara on me, out of nowhere, I felt a sudden sharp pain in my side.  I thought I'd pulled a muscle while decorating tables for the reception.  I told her I needed to take a break for a minute and catch my breath.  I decided to walk down the hallway and find Teryn and Tawni, who were outside.  Each step I took, the pain increased.  What the hell was happening to me?!  This was just the beginning of the worst thing I've ever been through.

By the time I reached Teryn and Tawni, I could barely walk.  I begged them not to say a word to Kendra, who was in another room getting ready.  I was convinced I could lay down for a little while, take some Tylenol and I'd be fine.

Tawni, who's a nurse, and Teryn, brought me into the bathroom.  Almost immediately, I began vomiting from the pain.  It was not letting up.  By now, it was around 2:00.  The wedding was at 6:00.  Tawni called a friend of ours, who is also a doctor, who called in some pain medicine that she thought could get me through the wedding.  We still believed I'd pulled a muscle.

Tawni drove to the pharmacy to pick up the pain killer.  When she returned, I immediately downed the pill.  She informed me it should start working within 30 minutes.  Thirty minutes came and went, then an hour went by. Nothing.  There was no relief, as the pain grew more intense.  It was unbearable, yet I was going to do everything in my power to push through it.  Around the same time, I began convulsing and passing out on the bathroom floor of the bridal suite.  I was sobbing uncontrollably and begging the girls' not to let me miss my daughter's wedding, but the vomiting continued and the pain worsened.  I truly thought I was dying. I'd never experienced such pain, even during childbirth.  I continued like this for hours, praying it would subside.  I longed to watch my daughter walk down the aisle, to experience the moment when I saw her for the first time and then put her veil on.  I wanted those memories that every mother wants at her daughter's wedding.

But, nothing we did was helping my situation.  Tawni gave me the news that I'd dreaded, but knew was coming by this point.  She said we had to take me to the hospital.  I begged her not to.  I pleaded and sobbed at the thought of missing Kendra's wedding.  Tawni promised she'd do everything she could to get me back in time, but her profession told her something serious was going on.  She knew nothing could keep me from being with my daughter on the most important day of her life and she'd never seen me or anyone in that much pain.  I knew she was right.  I had to go.

I was unable to walk on my own to the car, so was carried by my daughters and a couple bridesmaids. During the ride to the hospital, Tawni informed me later, I kept passing out, as she continued to slap me, trying to keep me conscious.  I truly believe both of us thought I was dying.  At that moment, I wanted to, but I begged God not to take me on my daughter's wedding day.  Tomorrow, the next day, but not today.  "Please God, if this is my time, don't let it be today!"  I couldn't bear the thought of dying on the most special day of her life.

When we arrived at the hospital, by now, it was around 4:45.  I still had time.  The venue was 30 minutes away.  Maybe they could just drug me enough so I could make it back in time.  The wedding was at 6:00.  Still determined to make it, I begged and pleaded with the doctor to give me something so I could go back.  By now, Kendra knew it was bad.  Tawni promised to call from the hospital with updates.  They would postpone the wedding until they heard from her.

The news came.  The doctor told me there was no way I was going to make her wedding.  So, my sister, Brenda, met us at the hospital and promised to stay with me so Tawni could return to the wedding.  Tawni had to be there.  She was a bridesmaid.  More importantly, she's the bride's sister. She was very emotional and didn't want to leave me, but I insisted.  I told her she had to be there. There was no way I would allow her to stay with me.  We couldn't do that to Kendra.  It was bad enough, her own mother was missing her wedding day.  

After blood tests and a CT Scan, the doctor's suspicions were confirmed.  My body was passing four kidney stones, one of them was "stuck".  I've never had them in my life and pray to God I never have them again.  Out of nowhere, my body was attacked.  It failed me and I felt I'd failed my daughter.

The wedding ended up being postponed for 45 minutes when it was evident I wasn't going to make it. It's very difficult for me to see the pictures and their wedding video because it's a reminder I wasn't there.  I'm not in any pictures, not one.  I'm so thankful it turned out as beautiful as I knew it would.  My daughter was a beautiful bride. Thanks to my brother-in-law, my sister and I were able to see Kendra walk down the aisle on FaceTime from my hospital bed before the phone died.  After they released me from the hospital, Kendra and Brandon, my daughter's and Brandon's parent's came to the hotel and performed their ceremony again in the lobby of the hotel just for me.  In between the vomiting in a trash can, I sobbed.  I cried for a week straight and couldn't comprehend what had happened.

So many have asked why I'm not in wedding pictures or their wedding video. Well, now you know.  I know it wasn't my fault what happened.  I couldn't stop it.  Trust me, I tried.  There is literally nothing but death, and apparently kidney stones, that could keep me from anything as important as one of my daughter's weddings, but it still hurts.  More than I can explain.  I cry when I see pictures. I cry as I watch their wedding video.  Sometimes, I sob.  I know time will heal, but right now, it's still too fresh.

I don't know why things happen.  There are others who've gone through much worse than I ever have or even did this month.  Yes, I questioned God so many times this month, especially that day.  Why?Why today? Why did this have to happen to me on that specific day?

I'm so proud to say my four daughters rose to the occasion.  The wedding went off without a hitch (well, you know what I mean) and by the end of the evening, Kendra became Mrs. Brandon Murr. The joy on their faces is evident of the pure happiness, respect and love they have for one another.  I could not be more proud they each call me Mommy.

Most of my life, I've been a single mother, even when I was married.  So, I won't apologize when I tell you these young women are the four best things I've ever done.  God helped me raise these incredible human beings and He entrusted me with each one of them, when so many others had let them down.  I haven't done everything right in my life, but they don't fit into that category.  I've prided myself to be there for my girls' in every area of their lives in a way no one was for me growing up, so on this day when there was something happening beyond my control keeping me from such a significant moment in one of my daughter's lives, it was hard to take.  It hurts so much.

There may come a day when I'll understand why my Uncle Leon was taken in the prime of his life in a freak accident.  Or, why I was laying in a hospital bed, rather than on the front row of my daughter's wedding.  Then again, I may never know.  But, I do know this.  God is still good.  I am still who He says I am and my daughter will live happily ever after.

My body has healed from the experience of that day, but it will take much longer for my heart.