(You just have to be one of us to get it...)
The sun began to peek over the mountain and the sky seemed faded in the distance. All around me the colors of the season seemed to beckon my name -- They too were fading.
I entered the freeway hoping, praying. I was headed to a place where peace instills itself into one's soul. A place where the bonds of this life extend themselves into the eternities. I needed that peace today. I needed the assurance that this life really is just a test.
I am sometimes overcome by jealousy. Jealousy that some have met the requirements they are supposed to meet, and their journey is through. No more aches. No more pains. No more broken hearts from the hurtful things that are said by those who just. don't. get it. That jealousy is often rebuked when I realize that my children need me.
They need their mother.
My husband needs his wife.
As I allowed myself to be encompassed by the beautiful blue sky of today, my thoughts turned once again to my sister. She left this earth life three years ago today.
I remember everything about that day.
I spent the day reading a book. A book about a young family. A father, a mother, and a young baby. The mother died, and the book took me through the father's grief. I imagined Brian and Azure. They were just like this young family and I thought that this story would be theirs if anything ever happened to her.
I was interrupted by a phone call from Azure. She was just calling to tell me she loved me. A simple act, that I will cherish for the rest of my life. Her phone dropped the call and I had a crazy thought... "that would suck if that is the last time I talk to her." I replaced that thought with "Oh, she's just in a place where she no longer has coverage..."
Within minutes of finishing the book, I received a phone call from my mom. Azure had been in an accident. I immediately blamed myself. I was the one on the phone with her. Was I was the one that had distracted her while driving? Did someone hit her because she was talking to me? My mom told me that it was a single car accident, and that things didn't look good.
Ok, so she wasn't hit, but was it me?
I began looking for flights. The plan was that I would fly to Phoenix and ride with Ben to Flagstaff. She was being flown to Flagstaff. I pulled out a suitcase and contemplated what to pack. I was buying a one way ticket. I may be there for days, weeks. Would I have the opportunity to go to church? Was I flying to a funeral? Either way, I needed a dress. I packed a few things and we made arrangements for the kids.
My flight was leaving in 2 hours. I was running out of time.
Our trip to Salt Lake was surreal.
I had hope that I would get a phone call that told me she was going to be fine.
Deep down, I knew better.
As I entered the double doors of the Salt Lake City airport, my phone rang. It was my brother. Right then I knew. He asked me if I had heard from my parents. I had not.
He broke down and told me that she had passed away.
I couldn't stop crying. I didn't sob uncontrollably. I was in public.
However, the tears wouldn't stop.
The security guard asked me if I was ok. I told him as nicely as I could that no, my sister had just passed away. He said "I'm sorry sweetie, but at least we know she is in a better place."
I wanted to slap him.
How could she be in a better place? How could leaving a 5 1/2 month old baby be better than staying to raise him?
Tears streamed down my face as I entered what they call the "friendly skies". I spent the longest hour and a half on a plane in what we often refer to as "heaven."
Where was she? How bad did she look? What were her last moments like?
My brother picked me up from the airport. I reeked. I could smell myself. I had no control over the sweat that had decided to take up shop in my shirt. Ben kindly stopped at a store 1/2 way home and picked up a car freshener. I tease him about it, but I don't blame him. Heck, I could smell myself. I can only imagine what it was doing to him.
We stopped at the grocery store and picked up plates, and drinks, and who knows what else before we headed up the mountain.
As we entered Azure's house, we were greeted by family. People were everywhere. I went into the restroom and I lost it. The sobbing had come, and it was there to stay for a brief moment. I allowed it to just take over. I was in her home for the first time and she wasn't there to show me. She had been so proud of her new house, and she wasn't even the one that was able to show me.
As I go back over those events today, I am thankful for the name my parents chose for her. Azure.
A beautiful blue.
A color of the sky.
She is in those skies. Those Azure skies.
(Brett snapped this photo the day after her funeral. It pulls at my heart.)
