Protector

Nothing on earth can prepare you for the devastation of losing a spouse. It's unimaginable. It's honestly just impossible. So what happens when you kiss your best friend goodbye in the morning before work, and he never comes home? What happens when you're giving your 10-month-old a bath with supper on the stove and you get a phone call... a phone call that no one ever wants to be on the other side of? That there's been an accident and you need to "drop what you're doing" and "come now" because a life-light helicopter is on its way to lift your husband off the highway.

What do you do? Well, the first thing I did was collapsed to my knees. I physically fell down. I slammed my knuckles into the hardwood floor of the hallway outside our bathroom and screamed for God to save his life. I instantly went into shock. I had heard Riley's voice just minutes before on the phone. He was just 9 minutes from pulling into the driveway. 9 minutes from walking through the back door. 9 minutes from eating the chicken breasts on the stove. 9 minutes. Trembling, pacing, shaking, I called my mother-in-law and my mom, both two hours away. They were helpless, but they were on their way. Simultaneously, I sprinted to my closet and changed out of my pajama pants and put on the pair of light blue skinny jeans I had worn to school that day, and then slipped on my white sneakers. I was prepared to get Khloe out of the bath and take her with me, but then the first member of my army showed up; Christie.

I called her next, why? Because she is a woman who shows up for her people fiercely. She is a person you can lean on, bank on, trust, and be sure of. She is a woman who will take it all on. She is a human shield. Quite frankly, she is a badass. She has the ability to take charge and handle difficult circumstances and crisis situations, and believe me when I say this woman knows how to command a room. It was a no-brainer that she would be my next phone call. She dropped what she was doing and was at my front door in thirty seconds tops. She had no idea what she was signing up for that night. She had no idea what the consequences were of answering my phone call and sprinting across our yards in the dark. She had no idea what she was about to do for me. Neither of us did.

I remember feeling relief the moment she walked through my door. I wasn't alone. Together we got Khloe out of the bath and dressed while we frantically tried to come up with a plan. I assumed she would stay with Khloe while I drove to find Riley. I raced to the mudroom and put on my winter coat and purse. I hadn't cried yet. My brain was a jumbled-up mess. I couldn't think straight or rationally. I was about to run out the door when she made the executive decision that I was not capable of driving a vehicle. She was right. Instead, she sprinted to get her car and her family. Her husband Chase, and daughter Addy stayed with Khloe while we hit the gas out of our cul de sac and drove to find Riley. We called 911 to get the coordinates of the accident and were on our way.

I remember feeling like a caged animal. Like a horse ready to crush the race of a lifetime. My legs were trembling and every fiber of my being needed to run to wherever Riley was. Seconds felt like minutes and minutes felt like hours, but it was only 9 minutes. We finally got to the highway. As soon as Christie put the car in park I sprinted my guts out across the median on Highway 6. Not far behind me, Christie watched as the unimaginable began to unfold. She watched me push through the fireman. She watched me scream. She watched the police officers grab me by my shoulders and walk me away from the lights. She watched as I pleaded to enter the back of the ambulance to be with Riley. She watched when they said no. Together we stood in a place that would change the course of my life forever. Together we stood in the heart of a living nightmare. Together we stood smack dab in the center of hell itself.

The officers were kind, clear, and direct, but I remember looking at a particular officer dead in his face as my fingernails gripped his biceps with all of my strength. His voice was trying to be strong for me, but his tear-filled eyes told a different story. A story of confusion. A story of chaos. A story of hopelessness. He took down my information and told us to immediately drive to The MercyOne Emergency Department in Downtown Des Moines. He said he would call me as soon as the chopper took off. I began to sprint back to Christie's car. I was running so hard and fast that I tripped on the uneven ground and almost fell flat on my face. Then, the next member of my army showed up. My pastor, Eric. He was running toward me from the side of the road where he had just parked his pickup. It was dark and cold and we were in the middle of the median ditch. I collapsed into his arms and he held me while I sobbed. I screamed at him to start praying. He did. He pleaded with God in the pandemonium. He cried out to Him in the darkness. He too didn't know what he was signing up for that night, but he voluntarily joined Christie and me in the center of hell.

When we arrived at MercyOne, Christie, Eric, and I were immediately escorted to a private waiting room where I was greeted by a Chaplin. I spoke with flight nurses, nurse practitioners, doctors, and surgeons. Friends and family began to congregate in other waiting rooms, and the trauma bay was pure chaos. Someday, I will be able to write about these events. Someday, I will be able to articulate the pain, but truthfully in this time and space, I do not have the emotional capacity to put into words what transpired next that night, but Christie knows. She was there and watched it all. From the highway to the trauma bay she was beside me. She was even one of the handful of people who actually saw Riley that night. Oh, how my heart aches for her, an unbearable sight.

In the next hours and days, she would go on and do things a 29-year-old widow just cannot do. Christie made countless phone calls with detectives and insurance companies. She confidently drove to the sheriff's office and collected the police report and the manilla envelope holding Riley's belongings. She went through his car to search for his other personal things. She even walked the ditch where the accident took place. She fed my family. She bought me groceries. The list goes on and on. She protected my fragile state from so many things. But truthfully, her heart was fragile too. Because Riley was her friend, and no one should ever have to do the things she did after watching your friend die. But with deep love comes deep sacrifice, and she was willing to set aside her personal grief and trauma to take care of me. She put it all on her back and handled it so I didn't have to. She did what she could to make grieving my husband just a little more tangible.

Christie has lived beside me for the last 5 years. She's the neighbor that will text me at 10:00 p.m. to remind me to shut my garage door. She's the neighbor who will remind me to change my furnace filter and smoke detectors. She's the neighbor who will borrow me a screwdriver or carton of eggs at any hour of the day. She's truthfully as loyal as they come. She's a phenomenal friend and neighbor. But it's different now. It's different because when you experience trauma with another human, it will bond you for life. It's a bond you wish you didn't have, but you're just as grateful for it.

Right now I'm in the middle of the desert. Christie is in the desert too. She actually walked me there the night of January 12th. She walked me there but never left. Now, she's sitting beside me in this wasteland, and I can confidently say she's not going anywhere, no matter how hot it gets. Because there is an innate strength, bravery, and determination inside of her. It's truthfully awe-inspiring to watch. Christie actively and fearlessly defends the people in her life that she loves. She fiercely protects them, and I count it a privilege and honor that God assigned her to protect me.

Whoever goes to the Lord for safety, whoever remains under the protection of the Almighty,

can say to him, “You are my defender and protector. You are my God; in you I trust.”

Psalm 91: 1-2