I remember all the vivid and surrealistic details of that fate-filled day. I can recite what I had on and the section of the coveted Sunday paper I was reading. It was still warm outside and sunny as if inviting you to come out and play. I was entrusted with watching my daughter Kendal’s dog while she went to the football game with one of her good friends. It was Labor Day weekend and everyone was home from college and I remember, though running late, she was excited to see everyone. It was 12:30 pm when she jetted out the door with an “I love you, Mom” and “I’ll be back soon.” I still wait for that day and perhaps I will forever….the day she will be back! My mind of course knows this is not a possibility, but try convincing my heart. Three and a half hours later she was dead.
She and four of her friends that she had not seen in a while decided to skip the game and go do something else. The friend who was driving was the drunk and impaired beyond belief driver and he killed Kendal. He was more than twice over the BAC limit, had 3 vehicular assault charges, 1 vehicular homicide (My Kendal), no driver’s license, no Insurance, resisting arrest, a cocktail of drugs in his system
and he got 3 months in a local women’s jail.
THREE months for my daughter’s life…..a slap on the hand for him and a knife in my heart.
At this point you are wondering
why she got in the car with him driving…..and I have no answer for that, and I will always wonder. I wonder why I asked her not to drive her car to the game, and she didn’t and if she had of, maybe she would have been driving…..the
“what ifs” knock on my door daily. Her autopsy showed nothing in her system, so why did she? I have to believe it was her ‘free will’ and the invincible attitude she had. There were no ‘good-byes’, no hugs, no preparation……we had spent the day together the day before….just like every weekend, we always spent at least one of the days together.
I was her confidant and she was mine, she was my best friend and yet she knew not to cross the fine line that made me her Mother. We were very close. When she was 3, I divorced her father who she remained very close to and it was just her and me. I remarried when she was 7 and she loved him with all her heart and he grieves as I do for all that is lost and never to be experienced.
We will never see her wedding, or hold her child in her arms for the first time, experience the joy that being a Grandmother can bring, watching her mature into a woman, what impact she would have had on the world and oh so many more.
Kendal was my only child, so there will be no Grandchildren for me. I often wonder who I am, as if her dying took my identity. If I am not Kendal’s Mom then who am I?