Barbara, I miss you

March 6th, 2011 § 1 comment

written September 17, 2009

I didn’t even recognize his voice when
I answered the phone last night.
It was my husband.
And through the sobs
He told me there had been an accident.
A car crash.
His parents.
Driving from their home in Jackson Hole
To their home in Scottsdale.
A truck had tried to pass some other vehicles
Around a slight bend.
The truck only got alongside an oversized load
when they collided,
at highway speed,
Head on.
In their lane.
The passenger side took the impact.
My beloved mother-in-law,
Killed instantly.

Mother to six,
Grandmother to nine,
Including newest grandson Owen born only two days ago.
Truly beloved woman.
We all grieve her loss.
We ache.
We are stunned.

Clarke’s father, airlifted to Salt Lake City.
Awaits surgeries for his injuries.
Already surrounded by relatives.
More scramble and scurry to be at his side.

We cry and mourn and try to make sense.
There is none to be made.
No reason,
No explanation.

Or maybe there is:
A stupid decision
By a stupid driver.

A moment’s impatience
Let to a
A split second acceleration
But a miscalculation
Let to a

Wrong person died.
Wrong person paid the price.

Don’t tell me any logic.
Don’t tell me any cause.
Don’t tell me any plan.
Don’t tell me she’s in a better place.
Don’t tell me she’s looking down on me.
Don’t tell me anything good.
Don’t tell me anything about anything.

Right now
All I feel is pain.
All I know is hurt.

And now?
Now we have to tell our children.
Grandma’s dead.

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§ One Response to Barbara, I miss you

  • Mary Helen says:

    Oh, Lisa. My heart breaks reading your posts today. You write so beautifully of what had to be a horrific time in your life.

    I lost what would have been my mother-in-law to cancer two months before my husband and I married. We had dated for eight years, so Betty and I had plenty of time to get close. I was closer to her than to my own mother, who, in a horrible coincidence, died three months AFTER we got married. Also of cancer.

    Not a day goes by, especially after having my girls, that I don’t wish they were here to share our lives. The girls are blessed to have two very loving grandfathers, but it’s not a grandma. It’s just not the same.

    I’m so sorry for your loss, Lisa. She sounds like an amazing woman.

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