The Aftermath

On Friday, I took my mom and sister back to the house. It was another day where the minutes passed like hours. Faces still came and went as the word of my father’s shocking death traveled through the nation. Friends and family started booking flights and soon enough they were filling our home with support and comfort. When my aunt Cindy, Nana and Papa finally arrived we all fell into their arms with tears of relief. My heart felt a little less heavy knowing they were there to take a load off of my mom and I knew I wouldn’t feel so helpless anymore.

I was lost. I couldn’t feel sorry for myself because I so wanted to see my mom and sister smile again. I felt that if my mom saw the pain on my face she would feel worse. I couldn’t handle seeing my family like this. I barely cried at all that day for fear I would never stop. At one point I had gone into my parents room to get something for my mom and I saw my sister sitting on the floor holding things of our dad’s and weeping. She had on one of his tee shirts again. Tears were flowing down her cheeks and I felt nauseous. I wanted so badly for her to be happy again. She was letting out all the emotions I was too afraid to let go of. My heart wanted to sit down next to her, lean my head on her shoulder and cry with her…but I quickly reminded myself that it was my job to be strong. I helped her up and told her she needed to rest. I walked her to her bedroom and as she curled up on the bed grasping these things tightly to her chest I spotted one of his watches on her wrist. She wore that watch every single day after that until I saw her months later, it was sitting on her nightstand. I told her that if these things made her so upset then she shouldn’t look at them…she closed her eyes and cried herself to sleep refusing to let them out of her hands.

I left the room and told my mom. It was obvious that Haley and I couldn’t handle being at the house anymore. Mom booked a hotel room so Haley and I checked in that night. My best friend Kylie agreed to stay there with us so we wouldn’t be alone. The hotel was very nice and quiet, I thought we would start feeling better now that we were away from the house. I was wrong. I remember walking out of the room where haley would seem fine and coming back a few minutes later to find her sobbing. Later that night while she was in the shower I called one of my best friends Kandra who was living in Oregon. She was flying out for the funeral in a few days and I couldn’t wait to have her next to me. As I spoke very calmly one minute, the next minute I was crying out “Why did he leave us Kandra?! Why did he do this to my mom and sister?” She cried too. It was the first time that entire day I had really cried. “I can’t believe this is happening” she said. No one could believe it. She promised to be here soon and we got off the phone. Later that night as I got ready for bed I closed the bathroom door and sat on the edge of the bathtub. Completely alone in my thoughts I contemplated what life would be like after all was said and done. I knew in my heart my mom would not stay in Arizona. But what about me? These were thoughts that tortured me even after my family was gone. I couldn’t imagine that any of us would ever be “ok” again, and if they were to leave me in Arizona would I ever be happy again?

It was time to go to the morgue. Pastor and Sis Wiley came to pick us up in their church van and we all piled in. Mom, Nana, Papa, Aunt Cindy, Zack, his wife Sylvia, Haley, Kristopher, and myself. The morgue was in downtown Phoenix and seemed to be the longest drive. We rode in silence fearful for what was to come. The place seemed very nice and looked like a church with a lobby, a chapel to the left and offices to the right. The Funeral director led us down the hall into a large room that had a huge table in the center surrounded by chairs, and dozens of casket samples sticking out of the walls. I was scared and didn’t know what to do with myself. I had a million thoughts swirling around in my head and my heart felt like it would beat right out of my chest. I grasped tightly to Kristopher’s hand. In the middle of the room was a huge table with chairs. The family sat down while Kris and the Wiley’s stood in the corner of the room. The mortician was a man that had known us for a very long time and who used to attend our church many years ago. He asked us to please excuse him for being emotional, that this was a very difficult thing for him to do. We discussed the details of the viewing and funeral, what kind of casket we wanted for dad, and where he would be buried. I listened to my mom and brother speak while my sister and I remained silent. I glanced at Kris for support and he gave me an encouraging smile…but his eyes were filled with sorrow. It was a look that so many people would give me and that I would grow to hate. A while later we got up to look around the room at the different types of caskets. We all agreed on a beautifully designed one with what looked like pillars going up the side. My father always loved beautiful architecture, especially those with pillars (hence the design of PRC’s baptistery). After we were done planning he told us that we could see him now. Someone suggested that my mom go first, and alone.

We all gathered in another room down the hall as my mom was led to the chapel. Everyone stood in the room and hallway speaking quietly and nervously. Not even a moment later we heard a scream. It was the same scream I heard at the house that day. Everyone started to panic and my first thought was to get Haley outside. “Was that mom?!” she asked as I yanked her hand and started running down the hall. I looked back and saw the tears had already started to drip down her face. I called for Kris as we rushed Haley outside, I told him not to let her inside until I told him it was ok. By this time my brother had already ran into the chapel as I headed for the doors. I swung them open and saw at the very end of the chapel my mother lying over my father’s body. I only looked for a few seconds as I burst into to tears and turned away. It was the most heart wrenching thing for a daughter to see her own grieving mother laying over her father’s dead body. It was too much for me….I started hyperventilating as Sis Wiley led me to a chair and got me a cup of water. Kris and Haley finally made their way inside and I buried my face in Kris’s neck. After a while I calmed down and made my way back into the chapel with the rest of the family. My brother took my hand and led me up to where my dad was. I felt sick to my stomach. I looked at him lying there but didn’t get too close. I remember thinking that contrary to what people say, he DIDN’T look like he was sleeping.

A Daughter Loses Her Father

It was another hot august day….a day of really no significance. I was working at the bank then and was still pretty new as I had only been there for about 2 months. That morning came and went like any other morning before that. I had lunch and sat back down at my desk a little before one pm. I was living with my now husbands sister and was planning on going to my parents that night for dinner. I thought I would give my mom a call to touch base with her. When my mom answered I knew something was wrong. She put me on hold right away. I heard her talking to a man but couldn’t really understand what they were saying. I heard her say “it’s my daughter.” She got back on the phone and said “Kendra you need to come home now.” “Now?” I didn’t understand. “Yes Kendra you need to come home now.” “But mom I’m at work I can’t just leave.” “Kendra you just need to head home” she said. “Mom what happened? Is everything ok?” She wouldn't answer me. I said I was on my way and hung up the phone. I told my co worker that something had happened at home and my mom needed me now. By this time I was already shaking and crying. They told me it was fine and to hurry home. I got into my car, tears pouring down my face, and dialed my boyfriend’s number. He was at work but he answered. “Something’s wrong at home I just left work” I sobbed.  He reassured me that everything was going to be ok and to please drive safe and call him when I found out what was going on. I hung up with Kris and called my mom again. I asked her a million questions “What happened? Is everything ok with Zack? Is dad sick?” She wouldn’t answer. Suddenly I heard another voice get on the phone. It was Tina Wilson, a close friend of the family and my fathers church secretary. “Kendra, its sister Tina…listen to me you need to get home as quickly as you can. We just need you to drive safe.” I cried even harder because I knew that if people from the church were at my home something was very wrong. I hung up with Tina and called my brother. Maybe he knew what was going on. He didn’t answer. I wanted to scream! I didn’t know what to do but drive. I called my future sister in law Kristy Cooper. I told her what was happening and she immediately prayed with me. I remember that prayer was probably the only thing that go me home. I cried the whole way there and kept screaming “Not my daddy! Please God don’t take my daddy!” I think in my heart I already knew he wasn’t here anymore.

As I turned the corner into my neighborhood my heart was pounding. What was I going to see when I turn the corner and saw my house? Was I overreacting? I turned the last corner as my house came in to view. The first thing I saw was yellow tape. The house was taped off like a crime scene. There were cop cars everwhere and I saw the white coroners truck. My heart that was pounding so hard one second ago had stopped beating. I parked across the street and ran out of my car. Tina and our assistant pastors wife Corina Flores ran up to either side of me. I collapsed. They practically carried me out of the middle of the street and I kept crying “please tell me what happened to my dad!” My mom ran towards me “My baby!” I collapsed in her arms. I cried from the pit of my stomach and I couldn’t breathe. A woman in a pantsuit came over to us. “This is my daughter Kendra” my mom told her. She looked at me with the most emotionless expression on her face. “Hi Kendra my name is _______. I am a family counselor with the Avondale police department. I’m very sorry to tell you this Kendra but your father commited suicide today here in your home………..” Everything froze. I don’t know if she kept talking, everything became silent only for a split second. I snapped back to reality and couldn’t hold myself up. I screamed “No! No!!” over and over again. My mom, Tina, and Corina were holding me up. I looked into my moms face....she looked lost. I tried to find an answer in her eyes but they were screaming the same questions in my mind. Her face was pale and puffy from crying but there were no tears. She was numb. I wanted someone else to be crying to. Why wasn’t anyone else crying?! I realized soon that everyone already there was, by this time in shock.

Since it was so scorching hot outside and we weren’t allowed to go inside the house the councilor offered her car right across the street. I sat there still with the a/c blowing in my face but doing nothing to dry up the tears that wouldn’t stop flowing. Tina came over a few minutes later and held me. She was talking but I felt so far away and disconnected I couldn’t understand the words she was saying. When my mom came back to me I had stopped crying. The tears seemed to have dripped down my cheeks and neck and soak the neck of my shirt. She held me in her arms and told me that everything was going to be ok that she would take care of us and not to worry because we would get through it together. I asked her to please call Kris and tell him what had happened. I needed him to be there. She left the car to call him and I sat there staring at the other side of the street. On that side it looked so peaceful and motionless. The counselor came into the car and asked me if I had any questions. She asked if I wanted to know what had happened. I was terrified but I needed to know. I asked her how he did it and she told me he used a gun. I was sick and just sat there staring straight ahead.  I had my “This isn’t real….this is a dream” moment right then. It may have lasted longer except that it was interrupted by a blood curdling scream. I shot my head back to the house and saw the stretcher. The scream had come from my mom.  The tears came again…first my cheeks, streaming down my neck, soaking into my shirt. What was happening and WHY was this happening? I couldn’t see my mom anywhere.

About 45 minutes later Kris had gotten the the house and I was relieved. By this time the police had started leaving….the yellow tape was gone. We both sat on the sidewalk and cried. What seemed like hours had passed and I still hadn’t gone into the house. The biggest question in my mind was how we were going to tell Haley. The school day was not over yet as my mom left with the counselor and Kelsey Wilson (haley’s best friend) in tow. All I could think when she came home was how thankful I was that the yellow tape and that white truck were gone. She got out of the car with the same look my mom had. Screaming eyes but numb everywhere else. I saw her shaking and hugged her tight. It was her I felt for the most. Her and my father had the most unique, close relationship that every girls wants to have with her daddy. I envied her almost for being such a daddy’s girl all her life. By this time we had gone into the house. It felt different and empty. It wasn’t a home anymore, it was a place I didn’t like to be. In less that an hour people started to poor in. Our home was full of concerned hearts.

The rest of that day is sort of lost in my memory. I do remember looking for my sister….she was shut away in her room laying in her bed wearing one of our dad’s tee shirts. I didn’t know what to say to her. Her tears never stopped. My brother was stationed in Kansas at the time and remember feeling so badly for him because I couldn’t imagine being so far away from us at a time like this. He was very calm and reassured my mom, sister, and I that he would be home soon. He would MAKE the army let him come home. I don’t think it really hit him until the funeral.

As faces came and went in a blur, Pastor Stacey Wiley and his wife were there all the while. Pastor Wiley and Bro. Flores came to me and asked where my dad had kept his guns. I showed them where they were. They took them all away. They let us stay in their home that night. As I crawled into bed I was so exhausted and yet it took me forever to fall asleep. I lay there staring into the darkness feeling very far away. God? Are you here with me? I prayed that night for peace to sleep the whole night through. I slept very soundly that night.

I woke up the next more very early and extremely groggy. It wasn’t a dream. I went into the other room to check on my mom. She was up and getting her stuff together. She said that she wanted to go back home.

My father's daughter....

As the second anniversary of my fathers death approaches I can’t help but be consumed  by the memories of the worst day of my life. I remember growing up going through hard times and heart breaks and thinking “this is the worst day of my life” and I’m sure at that point in time, it truly was. But as I look back I can’t help but roll my eyes at myself for thinking I was so….”broken.”

Growing up I had the most wonderful, happy childhood any girl could dream of. I was lucky enough to have both parents and a stay at home mom which is rare these days. With my dad being a pastor he did most of his work in his office at home so even if he was working he was always around. I have so many memories of growing up. Really great, sweet, funny stories that warm my heart. I love to replay them in my mind and share them with my husband. One of my favorite stories was when my dad caught this foot long bass and decided to freeze it in our freezer. Oh how I hated that thing! One day when I was about 7 or 8 I opened up my closet to get a pair of shoes  and there it was laying on top of my shoes! I was so upset screaming and crying I decided to run away. And I did….about 3 houses away. My entire family still holds that over my head to this day.

As I grew up and not much changed. My parents always supported me and what I wanted to do as long as God was center in my life. My dad always gave the best advice, even when it came to my relationships and friendships. They recognized really early on that I wasn’t like most others my age and they usually supported my “growing up” decisions. I remember always being reminded of how beautiful and funny I was…we all were. They always made a point to make us feel confident and secure with who we were. I was so blessed to grow up in a home full of laughter. We all seemed to have our own trademark sense of humor. I am thankful for this because when I’m missing my family, I know I have a plethora of heart warming memories to think of and make me smile again. Some might say I was raised with a silver spoon in my mouth…and maybe I was. All I know is that I was loved the way a daughter should be and I was taught how to be a Godly woman. My parents were to me, perfect.

So as I’m sure you’ve gathered, I had a virtually simple, happy, tragedy free life. Then came the day when my whole world changed.

August 6^th, 2009 just 16 days shy of my 19^th birthday I stopped breathing. And in one split second I was a girl whose biggest concern was what I was going to be when I grow up, and in the next, I grew up. The events that played out over the next 2 years are ones that have remained carved into my heart and my mind. Events that have caused the most terrifying nightmares, and the most hearbreaking reality. I share these memories and events because I feel like it’s finally time to share my story of how losing my father led me to finding a relationship with my heavenly father. If no one reads it, I don’t care. I just want to finally let my experience live somewhere else than in my heart. And please, whatever you do don’t feel sorry for me. I don’t feel sorry for myself. God gave me a tremendous testimony.