November 18th, 2012
Welcome,
Switches... In your head, as well as mine, is a 2 years dream room. It is space filled with switches. There is a switch for everything from hunger to smoking to alcoholism to procrastination to love to the desire for live. The switch is programed to be in one position from birth but something, anything change that. You could lose your best friend or wife in a tragic accident and suddenly your happy switch is off. You feel like your heart is made of stone that weighs a million pound. Every beat hurts; it doesn't just aches. It is a deep down pain that runs all the way to your core. It takes a great act of will or an intervention from fate for that switched to right itself. The same is true for all the switches; environment, medical, emotional or just shear will power can flip any switch.
My name is Kristy. I am 31 years old, married with a 10 year old son, work at a bank, and live in a small Midwest town. Well, it is small by most people standards. To us, it is big. I am 5 foot 4 inches (if you round to the nearest inch) and yesterday morning, I weighed 229 pounds. Last Monday, I weighed 232.6.
My goal is to flip my "eat everything all the time" switch to eat only when I'm truly hungry and then turn on my need to workout daily (hopefully get that one to stick in the permanent on spot.)
I have been writing this blog, or a blog just like it, in my head since I was little. I have always had an internal monologue. No, I'm not crazy. And yes, I have been tested. I don't have a degree in English, or a degree of any kind for that matter. I have never written a book and I'm not published. I just have a person with something to say.
*****
Phil:
Philip Lowell had one of those great soles. He wasn't perfect, not even close, but what he did right... he did fantastically, honestly, and with whole heart. He was taken from us too soon by a 20 year old that he had nothing to lose. I loved him. I loved him innocently with my whole heart. There was not one single ounce of me that wanted him for anything other than a friend.
When I saw him, I felt better. He had a way of warming a room with his mere presence. He would work in my door and no matter how crappy I felt, he made me smile. It wasn't what he said.... it was just his energy.
I was at the new Batman movie when the accident happened. He was on his way from the grocery store after work. He had a 6 pack of Miller Lite and was looking for to a quiet night at home. He was on his motorcycle. He never wore a helmet and wasn't wearing one on that night either. It was 6pm. My husband,Jeff, got the first call during the movie. It was from Phil's sister, Megan. Jeff sent the call to voice mail and then I got a call, voice mail, and texts from friends telling me to contact them. As soon as the credits began, I checked my messages. It was from our mutual friends saying that Phil had been in an accident and we needed to go to the hospital. We stopped home for a minute and went to the hospital. We had no news. We just knew there had been an accident.
As we met up with our friends, we got the details...
Phil had been hit by a kid...
The kid had been speeding and texting....
He ran from the scene...
Phil was awake when the ambulance got there...
The accident happened less than a mile from my house and only 3 blocks from Phil's house...
He had almost been home...
He had been throw from his bike and his bike ended up a half block away...
He had a broken shoulder, arm, hand, leg, and a swelling in his brain....
Good news, no internal bleeding...
We sat at the hospital most of the night waiting to get more news. When they said there was nothing more we could do, we went home. The doctors said we just had to wait for him to wake up. We went home thinking that it was going to be a long, long road of therapy but that he was going to be fine. We fell asleep exhausted but relieved.
At 7am, the phone rang. It was Phil's dad, Terry. He said it wasn't good. Phil wasn't going to make it and we needed to come say good-bye. We both zombie walked through showers, getting dressed, and driving there. I can't even fathom how hard it was for Terry to make that call. How do you call your son's best friend and say the words "he isn't going to make it?" I can't even think them, let alone say them out loud to another person. His strength was amazing.
We met our friends and Phil's family in a big waiting room and took turns seeing him. He was on a ventilator and had clear bandages holding his eyes shut. I just rubbed his shoulder, the good one, and told him over and over again how much I loved him and it would be OK. What else to do to tell someone who is officially brain dead. I was talking his body... I was telling him everything I was hoping his soul would here. I could see it in his face that he was gone.
I have see many people take their last breath. I have held their hands and been there to tell them it will be OK. I worked in a nursing home so don't think I'm some sort of serial killer. I was just a loving person who didn't want them to die alone. You could tell when they were gone. There spirit/soul leaves them and there is just an empty body. The shell that spirit used while it was here on earth.
When I looked into Phil's face I knew he was gone. Even if they wouldn't have told me there was no hope, I would have known.
Terry and his wife, Cleo, decided to donate Phil's organs. They left him on a ventilator for 3 days while they got the doctors and nurses lined up. Because of Phil, someone has a new heart, lungs, liver, kidneys, and eyes. He gave even after he was gone. It was the ultimate gift.
The funeral and burial were a blur of tears, hugs, and love. But, we got home, it was now what. Phil was at our house a couple times a week. His pictures were on our walls, his hand-me-down blankets, hats, and shirts were in my son's room. His Tupperware was in my cupboards. His shirt was on my dresser. He was everywhere I looked. And it hurt. My heart hurt. I felt like I couldn't breathe. I would cry and hope the tears would wash away from of the pain. But, you know what? It didn't.
They say only time heals a broken heart. Whoever they are, they are right. It still hurts and I still think about him everyday but, I can take a good deep breath now.
I talk to him about the traffic or Jeff or life. I don't know if there is a heaven but, I'm not missing a chance to talk to him if her can hear me.
I will hopefully love again the way I loved him because it was pure.
I love you Phil. <3
*****
Dreams:
Not the "now I lay me down to sleep" kind but the 10 years and win a million dollars kind.
I would like to live on a white sandy beach. I would like to have a balcony that overlooks the ocean. A huge open kitchen with white tile. A bedroom with a king size bed and white gauze curtains. I'm not the biggest fan of swimming in the ocean so a big deep pool would be nice. i want a few guest rooms for friends. A long drive way that leads off a not too busy road. A garden of beautiful but easy to tend flowers. An office filled with bookshelves that are filled with books. i want to wake up to seagulls and fall asleep the waves. I want the most stressful decision of the day be which book to curl up in my chair and read. So, maybe I will need 2 million dollars.
*****
