"Flatbed" ~ As written by a retired CHP

My husband's grandfather is a retired CHP.  He recently submitted this to a local newspaper and then forwarded it to my husband, who shared it with me. With Pa's permission I'm passing along his story as a reminder to always pay attention when you're driving, and be careful on the roads, no matter what the weather condition.

"EDITOR:

When I think about my career as a California Highway Patrol Officer I always focus on a traffic accident I investigated maybe 40 years ago. It was during one of those early rains. You know, the kind that brings the oil to the top and makes the road very slippery. Two sisters, maybe in their twenties, were driving southbound on US 101 through Santa Rosa in a Volkswagen bus. You remember them. They were shaped like a loaf of bread.

The sisters were talking, like sisters do, when traffic stopped in front of them. The sister driving applied the brakes but the bus slid into the rear of a flatbed truck. The impact was pretty hard. The front of the bus caved in, pinning both sisters quite firmly, chest high, to their seats backrests. Fortunately, they were not injured badly. However, the maybe 6 year old girl, who was sitting on her mother's lap on the passenger seat, died instantly of blunt force trauma from the unyielding hard metal truck bed. Those sisters, as have I, have been mourning that sweet little girl all this time.

I had a 6 year old daughter at home at the time. It was the worst day of my career.

So I say to anyone treading this, slow down and leave some space, as you don't want to create the worst day in a California Highway Patrol officer's career. 

 

--CHP Retired--"

Goodbye, good friend

When a friend emails you at 8 a.m. on a Saturday, then sends a private message on Facebook, and then texts you to see if you got her messages, you would be inclined to think something important has come up. But logic would suggest if it were truly important, perhaps that friend would just call?

I recently received these alerts of urgency from a friend who was asking that I send her money using Western Union. She wasn't on vacation; she wasn't out of town; she told me she had car trouble and needed $120.00, but would definitely be able to pay me back in just a few days when she received her work check.  She actually went so far as to give me a specific date.

Whether it was my kindness or me being illogical, I called her to verify someone hadn't stolen her phone, and then I agreed to loan her the money. Western Union has significant fees to make money immediately available. Using our credit card to pay for this loan also incurred fees against our account. The total out of our pocket ended up at $155.00.  We confirmed with her that she was okay with this amount when it came time to pay us back.

Four days go by and I am relieved to see her text on the Friday she would be repaying the loan. Until I read her words asking for more money. Uh oh. New job; sick cat; rent due early. We heard excuse after excuse for weeks. Meanwhile, the money had been saved for a vacation to Las Vegas we had planned, but it was now unavailable for our trip. While on that vacation my cousin died, and I explained to my friend the money would really help with costs associated in attending his funeral. But this did not matter to our friend either. She did not care about the reasons I wanted repayment, but she also did not know that those weren't actually the most important thing to me. I needed the repayment in order to remain her friend.


Saying goodbye to less than $200 isn't really the upsetting thing here. It's that I trusted a friend whom I've known a long time. She came to our wedding, she recently left a surprise gift on our porch, and we've had a lot of fun times together at baseball games and bars. She has been a good friend and I feel like I've always been appreciative of that. But now it's time to say goodbye to her.

I guess I could have ignored her texts. I honestly hoped deep down that she really was having car trouble that early Saturday morning, but I also knew better. I could have said that we didn't have the money; or that we didn't want to loan it to her. But I hoped that if I were in a position where I needed to ask friends for money, someone would be willing to help me. I was that someone for her, but I don't think I helped anything. I certainly didn't help us stay friends. No good came of this loan. And now I have to say goodbye, good friend.  Perhaps, we both should have been reminded to "just say no."  I certainly would if I had it to do over again.

"My Cousin, My Friend, My Angel"

My mother’s older sister (Vicki) had only one child, my cousin Erik.  My mom’s younger sister (Sheri) has two children, my cousins Staci and Cody.  Erik was told in July 2013 he may only have a few days to live after being diagnosed with a very aggressive form of melanoma at stage 4. A month after that he was in a wheelchair with us and Staci at Disneyland as we celebrated my husband Casey’s birthday, but in too much pain to make it through a full day at the park. He couldn’t walk more than a few steps and it was a struggle even to get on and off the low impact rides. My Aunt Vicki  told me that Erik told her the worst thing about the cancer so far wasn’t the pain he was in, but that he remembered the day at Disneyland with us, and when Casey offered him a bite of his Monte Cristo sandwich, he was in too much pain to eat it and walked away from the table so that we wouldn’t see him cry as he called his mom to tell her.

For the last 4 ½ months he was in and out of the hospital with illnesses and for chemo treatments that initially gave great hope of shrinking the tumors. Then his liver had serious problems and chemo had to stop, which caused the tumors to return even more aggressively. Erik lived in Las Vegas for most of his adult life, until he returned to Orange County to live with his Mom during treatment last fall. He never drank or smoked. He was very religious and that kept him strong and positive through this battle. I felt very connected to him when I heard that his suffering ended the morning of January 30, 2014, while Casey and I were in Vegas. I had seen a beautiful sunset the day before that made me think of him, and amazing angels outside the Paris Hotel that also made me think of my cousin. Moments after we heard the news, it rained on us. A hot, Vegas rain that seemed like Heaven was crying with us, and lasted only moments.

 

 

 

Erik’s funeral will be on Saturday morning, 2/8/14. He was 36 years old. I am very sad about his passing but so happy his tremendous suffering is over.

 

I am one of the few people given the honor to speak in celebration of his life, and I prepared the following words the day we heard about his passing. It felt so natural to write about him that I didn't want to make any changes after that, so I've left it as it was originally felt:

 

(To be read 2/8/14):

 

I do not think I’ll be able to stand here and speak to you without crying, but I want you to know that even though my heart feels broken, I am standing here celebrating Erik's life. I will cry, but they will be tears of joy, for having such an amazing person in my life. My cousin Erik would not want us to cry in sadness for him, he would want each of us to have joy in our hearts, so with each tear, I feel my heart trying it’s hardest to begin healing. Erik would want to see smiles on every face and I’m going to do my best to give that to him.

 

My cousin is an amazing person.  He was kind and selfless and gentle. Through this incredibly difficult struggle Erik remained stronger and braver than I could ever imagine being, and we need to be as strong and brave as he was. We need to live as kind and loving as he did. His strength came from many sources. His love of the Lord and his faith in Christ were one. He knew he would be with his Father in Heaven and that God had a plan for him.  His strength also came from the love and support of his family and friends, because while he hurt, we all hurt with him. We traveled together every single step of the way with him. Even after it hurt too much for him to continue taking steps.

 

I will always have great memories of Erik. Every time I traveled to Vegas I insisted he let me come bug him for a little while. But the last time we spent the day together will always be my favorite. We celebrated my husband Casey’s 30^th birthday last August at Disneyland. Erik didn’t have the strength to walk and run through the park so we rented a wheelchair, and through the day, our Cousin Staci, and Casey and I took turns pushing him. It was so hot. He was having such a hard time even though he was just sitting. He couldn’t do a lot of the rides, but he rode the rides with us that he could endure and we had the best day ever. He kept his pain hidden from us that day. He didn't want us to see him hurting, not because he was ashamed, but because he didn’t want it to hurt us. Even when he didn’t have to, he put our feelings in front of his.

 

I want to live my life in a way that honors God. And I want to remember my cousin in a way that honors him.  I will leave here with a joyful heart, for having known such a special human. I will leave with a smile for Erik. And each of us will leave with the knowledge that even though we will miss being able to reach over and hug and kiss him, he will always be in our hearts, hugging and kissing us from the inside, instead.

 

In celebration of Erik's life, I have written a poem that I would like to share, titled:

 

“My Cousin, My Friend, My Angel”

 

Little children once we were

Playing together at Aunty’s, upstairs,

Hide ‘n go seek, Barbies, or Cars

Dinner, then nighttime, and prayers

 

We chased each other at Nana’s

Rolled around on the backyard grass,

Swam in the Jacuzzi, Daily in Summer,

We giggled and joked and we laughed

 

Adulthood moved us apart

But you were never that far away,

Our visits became less frequent

But in my heart, you always did stay

 

When you told me that you were leaving,

That Heaven was calling you Home,

I hoped for the best, then prayed with the rest,

But too soon, our loved one was gone.

 

As you now look down on us smiling, Erik,

And each day of the rest of our lives,

Remind of us your presence and love

In each flower, each smile of joy,

and every brand new morning sunrise.