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kind of reckless

Remember this one really bad day? Well I forgot to write about the rest of the weekend. And the rest of the weekend was good.

We stayed with the Vests who are really just incredible. President Vest sat with me for hours in the Amarillo hospital before I was transferred to UMC. Of course, I only remember about thirty seconds of those long hours, but the fact that I remember him at all is impressive.

They had a beautiful home that they so graciously shared with us. They didn’t even mind when I preferred to sleep on the couch instead of a bed. It was obviously a rough weekend emotionally, and they were the perfect people to be around. They were so concerned for us, so keenly aware of our pain and so gentle in their words in actions. As we were leaving the house to go see Jada’s body I stopped in the hallway mirror and tried to pin my bangs out of my face. Something easier said than done, since I can’t hold my right arm up very well. After a few failed attempts I burst into frustrated tears. Stupid hair. Kelli recognized my obvious predicament and busted out the comb and the hairspray and got that hair out of my face. They were just so kind and nurturing to us that awful weekend when I felt raw and empty.

Oh, and they had the cutest little kids. Honestly, THE CUTEST.

Like this little guy who would drag the Blue Bell out of the freezer, plunk it on to the counter, scurry up onto the wooden stool, and wait patiently at the counter until his mom noticed. At which time he’d profess his desire for ice cream in little kid language—you know, the endearing voices that can’t really say L’s or R’s.
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Jace totally got suckered into loving the little boys. He got a taste for having little brothers and I think he secretly loved every minute of it.

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[Yeah, I take pictures in church. So what.]

Meanwhile I spent time bullying little kids. I spent most of church wrestling their little boy who happened to have an arm brace on. He would use all his body weight to shove himself against me and I’m pretty sure he messed up his arm even more.

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[My mom took this one. Therefore I can’t get in trouble for being disruptive because she was too!]

Kenyan, perpetually happy-go-lucky, just drug herself into the first bedroom she could find and stayed there most of the weekend.

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And little Aria had the time of her life. Three of the four kids were younger than her and she loved being the oldest, the leader, the cool one.

There was a lot of consumption of pizza and ice cream. I stayed up late talking to Julie, and discovering how wonderful people really can be. People that don’t even know us going so far out of their way to help us. To do little things that make all of this so much easier. To make us feel loved when we don’t even feel like getting out of bed.

I mean seriously, this was what I found waiting for us in the bathroom, accompanied by candles lit in preparation for our arrival:
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Clean towels would be one thing. Towels neatly folded and wrapped up with a bow? Who does that? The good people of Texas, that’s who.

It’s not so hard looking back on that weekend, which was easily the worst one of my life. That feeling—the hollowness, the confusion, the depression, the weight of death—that’s something I will never forget. But it doesn’t hurt as much now. I can feel myself healing on the inside just as much as the outside. Getting back to normal a little bit. I had plans, goals, expectations for this summer and for getting settled in a new place. Those plans got derailed. Those goals got thrown out the window. Some of them seem pointless now, and some of them are more important. Little Jada and I had joint goals—habits we were going to make and break. I suppose the best thing for me to do now is to keep carrying them; to do the best I can for both of us.
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There’s starting to be joy in our house again. Even though it’s not our house and we’re lacking a lot of things that help us create stability and security, we love it. Jace and Aria (the healthy ones) are our entertainment.
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My mom tries to keep up with them. Unsuccessfully :)

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So she decides that Kenyan needs to join her.

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And they dance.

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[Please look at the pure joy on her face in that picture. That is one happy child.]

This is all well and good, aside from the side effects of Kenyan getting tired.
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So we break for the day.
Anticipating tomorrow.

[Title from Sparks Fly by Taylor Swift]

4 comments:

  1. And who would have thought that fateful Tuesday night that I could call my local Bishop of our church in the Dallas area and get the cell phone of the Stake President that was sitting beside your Mom in the Amarillo hospital?

    Our church organization is truly nothing short of amazing. This accident, as tragic as it was just shows how our church is prepared and ready to assist even complete strangers.

    Thanks Bridian again for sharing, you are all truly "Texan's" now.

    And thanks to the many church members in both Amarillo and Lubbock for taking such good care of our friends!

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  2. You are wise beyond your years to be able to express your feelings so well. I have a lot to learn from you. :)

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  3. We all can learn much from your amzing family, and yor beautiful lessons on your blog! I love you!

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  4. Thought I would take a peek at your blog since I saw Kolby's picture. Thank you for your kind words. I hope you know that you are always welcome at our home. We love your family very much. You are a beautiful young woman, Bridian.

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