Early 2000's
The millennium turned in the blink of an eye and the world did not come to a crashing halt. I did well in high school. I think my experience would be considered average for a teenager. I had a lot of friends from different grades and classes. My home became the central place for everyone to gather. I don't know how this happened except to say that my parents were always welcoming and always had food in the cabinets. We also lived centrally, right outside of the town so our house was easily accessible and big enough to hold everyone. As an only child I never felt alone because my friends were always welcome in the house. It was a difficult adjustment, especially for my mom when all of her kids left the nest and were not coming over anymore. I was in the National Honor's Society, I participated in theatre and chorus as my elective classes. I was the manager for the boys Varsity Soccer team with several friends all four years of high school. I spent my free time socializing at sporting events or going to movies and shopping in Roanoke or Lynchburg. I had boyfriends--some who were great, others not so great--typical teenager stuff. I never partied in high school, I was not exposed to drugs in a direct way, nor alcohol until I had graduated. This is not to say that it wasn't around or that some of my friends did not experiment with these things as we got older, but I had no desire to be involved with those activities. My life was full and wonderful. I was so blessed to be in a healthy environment and I am certain that I often took that for granted.
I believe it was either my sophomore or junior year of high school that I was introduced to Hollins University. The Wyndham Robertson Library had just been built and on a trip to visit my Grandma Becky in Salem we drove by Hollins because Dad wanted to see it. I saw the campus from just over the hill of the library and I was instantly enchanted. Then I was told that Hollins has one of the best creative writing programs in the nation and my longing to attend was solidified. I loved to write, one of my favorite activities was to write poetry and was heavily involved in writing skits and things for Youth Sundays at church. I asked my parents timidly if it was very expensive to go to Hollins and I was told that it was indeed. But, I recall my Dad saying after a time that if Hollins was really where I wanted to go, they would get me there. I was able to attend Hollinsummer-- an awesome program which was really just taking shape back then. I did the creative writing program-a two weeks summer intensive program. I met one of my favorite people there; little did I know that Kayte Neas Geise would become a lifelong friend in college. Oh yes, I very much did want to be at Hollins University.
The summer before my senior year at Liberty High School I visited many colleges. No need to put all of our eggs in one basket. I visited many Presbyterian schools--Presbyterian College, Warren Wilson, St. Andrew's, and Montreat College. I also visited Appalachian State several times and UNC Asheville. Funny now to think that I have some good friends who did attend these great schools. But they just were not for me. I came back from the North Carolina tour and visited Longwood, Sweet Briar, and Roanoke College. Again, great schools but nothing held a candle to Hollins. I applied early admission to Hollins University and got accepted in October of 2001. I never applied anywhere else and I never looked back.
The Accident
The summer of 2002 finally came. In fact, I probably thought that it had dragged on as an 18 year old, but my high school graduation came and went in a flash. My family summer was mapped out. I went to Senior Beach week with my girlfriends right after graduation. Mom and I had two trips to Montreat; the Worship & Music Conference and the Youth Conference (my last one and Mom was a chaperone). After those trips we would have a month or so to get ready for my move to Hollins. Mom was a great planner so I was not stressed about any of this really. I was just ready to spend as much time as possible with my friends and boyfriend before we all went our separate ways.
The first half of summer was great-filled with adventures. When we came back from youth conference our cousins from Texas were in town, staying in Salem so we had plans for a big family get together for dinner. It was mid-July, dry and hot as I can remember. It was a Saturday and Mom was cleaning house. My room looked like a tornado and had cleared a path from my door, two feet to my bed and that was it. But, I had no interest in cleaning, neither did Dad....so we made ourselves scarce as was our typical behavior (sorry, Mom). I had finally gotten my housing assignment for college and desperately wanted to see where I was living (Shout Out, Randy 2!). My boyfriend, Andrew, and I headed off to Roanoke early so that we could check out the campus before dinner with my family. The evening, what I can remember of it was a fun one. My cousins from Texas are dear to us and we rarely saw them at the time so it was a special treat. Having two separate cars, my boyfriend and I returned to Bedford early, leaving my parents visiting with family longer.
My parents were driving through an intersection in Roanoke, having been given a green light. They never saw the drunk driver coming. He plowed into the passenger side of the car where my mother sat. Thank God for seat belts and airbags for both of them. I thank God also that a rescue squad was located right around the corner and there was a cop on the other side of the road across the intersection. What a miracle in itself. The jaws of life were brought to extract mom from the car--her seat now a fourth of it's original size. Dad had a few lacerations, his blood pressure was high-how could it not be. Mom retained two collapsed lungs, shattered ribs, a broken pelvis, and mild brain damage. I got a call from Dad--he'd rang a million times before I heard the phone, I'd been outside stargazing. He told me there had been an accident--he didn't know--mom was bad--I better come--"don't come alone" he had said. My boyfriend didn't hesitate to drive me to Roanoke. Can you imagine? Can you imagine being a seventeen-year-old boy driving your eighteen-year-old girlfriend to a hospital late at night and having no idea what news you would find upon arriving? He was brave and supportive. I will never forget it.
When we arrived at the hospital I was met at the door by a hospital chaplain. I learned in that instance what not to do for pastoral care. His first words to me were, "we need to talk" and I told him I was not going to talk to anyone until he took me to my father. Dad was in a holding bay in the emergency room. We were waiting to hear news of Mom, he knew nothing at all really. Our pastor, Joseph Gaston and his wife Karen came to be with us. They, and boyfriend Andrew stayed with us all night. It was hours before we got to see her. She was not herself. Hooked to all manner of machines, in a coma and extremely critical. We went to my grandma's house in the wee hours of the morning to sleep and I just remember laying on the fold-out couch praying, "Lord, don't take her from me."
In the days and weeks following we were surrounded by love and kindness. Pastors and church friends called and visited daily. Neighbors brought food measured in pounds, both to grandma's house and back to our house once we started sleeping at home. My friends were all there, someone almost every day. One night a dozen of them came and got me, took me back to Bedford, and had a movie night with me. She was their Mom too. Daily, I would go to Mom's bedside and talk or sing to her. The nurses were extremely kind and patient to explain things to me. You know that sucking sound a ventilator makes--I'll never forget it. The beeps and bells and green squiggly-lined monitors. I'll never forget it. I made her two binders filled with the cards and letters she received. I wanted her to be able to read them all when she woke up. Hundreds of them, I'd guess. Mom's work friends were amazing. They brought us groceries and her doctor co-workers would stroll into the ICU and get medical updates then translate them for me! Time marched on for Dad and I, even though for Mom it stood still. While she lay unconscious, medically induced so she could heal-she got pneumonia and MRSA--Dad went back to work and I had to get ready for college. When we couldn't get to the account with my college funds in it without Mom's signature, a friend of hers offered to pay my semester's tuition, but the man at the bank bent the rules for us. My best friend Whitney and her mom took me shopping for college. When I over-drafted my bank account buying college gear, my uncle footed the bill (I was too scared to tell Dad). Dad, Andrew, and a neighbor, Earl Agee, moved me into Hollins. It was probably the hottest day of summer.
For weeks this went on. Was it 6 or 8? Hard for me to remember now. I entered her room one day and it was eerily quiet. Something was different...what was it? Oh my god. The ventilator was gone. She was breathing on her own! This should have been really exciting to me, and it was, but in a sense it was also terrifying--what if she couldn't do it on her own? One afternoon, a few weeks into my first year at Hollins, Dad called. Mom was awake. She had been weened off the medication and had woken in the middle of the night asking for him. What a reunion that was for me to see her awake and speaking to us! She was confused for a long time and didn't remember anything from our summer- months had been wiped away and missed. To trade those few months for the rest of her life was absolutely worth it--and eventually memories came back. Eventually, she went back to Lynchburg for rehabilitation. I was sad she was not as close by anymore but she went to the right place. The day she came home--mid-October, right at my birthday, friends "flocked" our yard--dozens and dozens of pink flamingos flocked us! Friends of mine from High School and College sent her messages for a big card to welcome her back. There has never been a sweeter homecoming.
Later on, Mom said that she wasn't angry and that she'd forgiven the man who hit them while driving intoxicated. She said everyone makes mistakes. I held anger for a long time. You see, this man, had he not plead guilty, could have gotten off free. Because the officer on the scene thought my mom would die. He thought he could charge this man with manslaughter. And because he was going on vacation the next day, he didn't do all the paperwork right, and he didn't get a BAC level recorded. The laws and requirements have changed a lot since then, they are much more strict and I am so thankful for that. No family should ever have to experience such hardships--or even worse!
I have to thank God for the angels watching over my parents that night, and for each day they have guarded us since. See, another family miracle.
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