Some time later, she’d mentioned to “HIM” that, should anything ever happen to her, she wanted me and “HIM” to raise their son together. She’d been watching me and Trew together, how he and I connected, and knew I’d be a good influence on him—if anything were to happen to her.
We all kind of thought she was off her rocker. (Seriously, who thinks that far ahead?) Though, truthfully, I was really touched by her consideration of me. I knew she truly loved her son so this wasn’t some random statement on her behalf.
Here’s where life gets funny…
On a hot, late afternoon in July, I went to Barb’s to pick her up for dinner. When Barb opened the door, I knew it was bad news. It was worse…it was ominous. Someone had called to say that Jody had been in a car accident and had been flown by chopper to the medical center. I maintained my composure, but I had already expected the worst. I knew the chopper was a bad sign. No one’s flown out unless there’s a near-fatal collision.
We went inside and waited. The kids were running around, laughing, playing. They had no clue. Trew, by now 4 years old, was oblivious that his life was about to change dramatically—and not for the better. Barb was stunned. I was in shock. I immediately remembered the statement she made, and knew what my new role was bound to be. In hoping for the absolute best, I prepared myself for the worst.
Around 10 p.m. we received word that there was no hope of recovery. Her family had made the decision to donate her organs and take her off life support. Our Jody was gone from our world. That beautiful, vibrant, intelligent, regal human being was no longer.
I felt cheated. Not for me, but for Trew. I felt so sorry for the child who would never feel his mother’s touch again. He’d never see her smiling face in the crowd during a school recital. Never hear her story of how she fell in love with his father, or learn which college she preferred him to attend. She would never dance at his wedding.
