Sunday,
February 9, 1997
That
day was like any other Sunday, except that it was the last Sunday in the house we had
built and lived in for ten years. We were
moving in five days, on Valentine’s Day. All
the girls (Amy 21, Jamie 20, Miranda 18 and Kathryn 12) were to come home that weekend and
help pack their “stuff”. Amy was a
full time student at Southern Tech in Marietta, Jamie lived with her cousin, Kristie, in a
new apartment in Lawrenceville and Miranda was a senior at Central High. Kathryn was a seventh grader at Richards Middle
School.
I
got up and went to church, as usual, taught my Sunday school class and fixed dinner when
we got home. Afterwards, Jim and I went down
to the basement to start going through things, packing what we wanted to keep and tossing
out the “junk”. Amy arrived about
2:00 and started through her boxes of school memories.
Miranda helped until about 3:00 and then announced she was leaving to go
over to Heather’s house. I asked her to
call Jamie to find out where she was and Miranda replied, “Oh, she and Kristie took
off this weekend with Sarah to New Orleans for Mardi Gras”. I was furious!
How could she be so selfish and not be here when I needed her? And this was a special weekend that we could all
be together, as a family, in our home. We may
never have a chance to come back into this house.
But, I knew Jamie, and she thought she could get back in time to come
over and pack her things. And Mom would get
over it, just as she always does!
As
I took a box off the shelf, I found Jamie’s cast when she broke her thumb. She is the only child to ever break a bone. She was tall, slender and at times clumsy. She had a heart of gold and the biggest eyes that
would fill with tears if someone were hurt or sad. So
sensitive and loving. All her friends and
cousins had signed the cast. I smiled as I
put it in a box for her.
Next,
I found a zip lock bag with strands of blonde hair, about eight or nine inches long, with
a note inside. In Jamie’s handwriting
was the date of her first “real” haircut. She
was meticulous about dating and recording information.
I am so fortunate that she had the foresight to record her special moments
in her life!
Going
through a lot of storage boxes, I came across Jamie’s baby blanket that I made her. It wasn’t her “blankie” because
that was gone years ago. You see, Jamie
sucked her thumb from the time she came home from the hospital. And she rubbed the satin edge of her blankie
between her forefinger and thumb. It was a
blue, thermal blanket. Everyone fussed at me
for not breaking her of the “bad habit” and warned me it would ruin her teeth. Jamie is the only child I had that did not need
braces! She had perfect white teeth. The envy of all her sisters.
In
the box went the blanket. As I put the top on
the box I wrote Jamie’s name on it. Instinctually,
I patted the top of the box. I felt a moment
of silliness and wondered why I would lovingly pat the box.
Then, as I stood up, I got a sharp pull on the left side of my neck. Suddenly I was over whelmed with a feeling of
exhaustion and a need to go the bathroom. I
slowly climbed the stairs and as I sat on the toilet, I rubbed my neck while shifting and
turning my head. As I went back to the
basement door, I called down to Jim, “Honey, let’s take a break. I’m tired.”
Then
I sat in my chair with my feet on my ottoman; covered with a throw blanket my
mother-in-law gave me for Christmas. As I
snuggled into the cushions I turned my head to the right and received a sharp pain. Turning over to the left I fell into a deep, deep
sleep. The kind of sleep, which has no dreams
and is hard to wake up. I think Amy left to
go back home to her dorm then too. It was
about 4:00 by then.
After
I was fully awake, around 7:00, I gathered my antique clock and Jim took a few oil
painting and we walked next door to my twin sister’s house. We planned on bringing our prized possessions to
the new house in our car. They agreed we
could store them there until Friday. My
brother-in-law, Mark, was the only one home. I
asked where JoAnne was and he said, “Kristine called and the car she was riding in
broke down somewhere in Mississippi. Jo had
to go rescue her and a few of the other kids”. I
asked why she didn’t call me to go with her and he answered, “because you were
busy packing and Jamie wasn’t in the car with Kristie.
She left in another car with Sarah and Terry”. “Kristie is upset because she has been
calling their apartment all day and Jamie hasn’t come home yet”. I didn’t think anything of it except that
maybe they turned around to go find Kristie or had pulled off the road to wait for them to
catch up.
It
was dark as Jim and I walked back home and we were holding hands. The air was nippy and I was aware of the
warmth of our hands. I had a fleeting
thought, “If Jamie’s car broke down, then she would just have to find another
way home. She was suppose to be here this
weekend and I’m not driving all over the world to get her!” I knew it was not a valid thought, because I would
go to the end of the world to get her! However,
later I would remember how heartless the thought was and the regret of just thinking it
would tear through to my heart!
I
continued to pack up the Kitchen and Laundry room until about 10:00. Then I got ready for bed and watched a little TV
[in bed] with Jim. I must have dosed off when
I heard the alarm beep that someone had opened a door.
Miranda wasn’t home yet from Heather’s house and I thought it was
her. Then I heard a quiet knock on my bedroom
door. “Come in” I said. It was Mark, dressed in his brown robe and
slippers. I was surprised to see him. He came over to my side of the bed and sat down at
my feet. His hands were in the pockets of his
robe.
“I
have something to tell you” his voice began to crack.
Jim rolled over and sat up in bed. “There
was a terrible accident today and Jamie was killed”.
I started kicking him with my feet and screaming. “No. No. No, not my Jamie!” Then I saw headlights from a car coming down the
driveway. For a moment I thought it was her. Then Mark told me it was the Gwinnett County
police and that they have to inform the family when someone dies in an accident. They went to his house by mistake, that is why he
knew first. I began pacing between my room
and the living room. Kathryn came out of her
room and was standing in the upstairs hall that overlooked the living room. I heard the officer’s steps as he came up the
front porch. I flung open the door and
screamed, “Get off my porch! You have
the wrong house!” as I began hitting him on his chest, he grabbed my wrists and I
collapsed to the floor. “My daughter is
not dead! She’s not dead!” “You have the wrong house! She’s not dead!!” The officer started to cry too. Mark and Jim brought me back in the house and
Kathryn and I grabbed each other. I began to
tremble and shake uncontrollably. I couldn’t
breathe! My heart was pounding as if I had
just run a marathon. Kathryn sat beside me
with her hands on her mouth crying uncontrollably and shaking her head “no”. Thirteen is such a young and tender age. How she will miss growing up without her favorite
sister!
Mark
brought me back to reality. “We need to
call the Bishop and the family. Do you want
me to do it?” I just looked at him. He picked up the phone and called the Bishop. “Do you want to use Tim Stewart funeral home?” I responded by just shaking my head yes. They are just down the street. That would be convenient, I thought, without
really thinking. I’m so confused!
Next
Mark called Mom and Pop Quillen. I’m not
sure who answered the phone but when Mark handed it to me it was Pop. I could hear Mom saying, “Oh my God, Oh my
God” in the background. I don’t
remember anything else that was said. Amy
picked up Miranda from Heather’s house and brought her home. We all embraced and nuzzled together, blending our
tears in unbelief. One by one my sisters, my
mother, my only brother and my cousins arrived. I
don’t remember any one talking, just a lot of crying and silence. I think I went back to bed around 5:00 in the
morning.
Jim
was so kind to me. He willingly slept on the
couch when I told him I wanted Amy, Miranda and Kathryn to sleep with me. I didn’t want to let any of them out of my
sight! I am their Mother. It’s my job to protect them from harm. How could Jamie be dead? How I have failed her!
Monday,
February 10, 1997
Slowly
during the day, my friends began to come over. Brenda
Brown, Melissa Mills and our Relief Society President, Carol Cheesman. I remember Brenda and Carol packing “stuff”
and Melissa, who is my life long friend (since we were three years old) sitting at my
feet, holding my hands and telling me how sorry she was.
Our Real Estate agent, Jan Edwards came by to offer her condolences and
offer any help. My sisters and brother asked
me to look through Jamie’s papers and pictures to give the funeral home. “I just threw out so much of Jamie’s
school papers! And the negatives to the
pictures, I only kept the pictures!” I
was so distraught and condemned myself for such a stupid act! The regret began to eat at my stomach and would
keep me awake at night for the next six months!
JoAnne
had not returned home from picking up Kristie and the other kids. Mark said she called and they went to Mobil
Alabama where Willie, the driver of the car was in critical condition. Mike, who was in the car with Kristie, was Willie’s
best friend and wanted to see him. Then they
went to Greenville to look for the car. They
were able to get pictures and found Jamie’s purse and wallet still in the car! So was her pillow and tennis shoes. The hatch back area, where Jamie was thrown into
during the accident, had so much blood! JoAnne
knew it was her blood. I will be forever
grateful to my sister for doing this for Jamie and me.
It’s almost as if Jamie led her to the people who helped her find the
car. They said the accident was the “talk
of the town” all day!
Finally
at about 10:00 that night, JoAnne and Kristie made it home. JoAnne hugged me and I began trembling and
shaking again. She told me all about their
trip meeting Willie’s parents (he is an only child), how they saw the accident site
and that Willie’s parents had put flowers on the tree.
She told me how the car tacks went down the embankment and that a large
section of tree bark was cut off the tree. She
told me how the Mustang had hit the driver’s door and wrapped around the tree. She said they took pictures of the tree, too. They looked all around the area for anything that
may belong to Jamie and found a lot of Marti Gras beads, parts of the car, glass and that
the ground was soaked in gasoline and oil. I
was so glad to have Jamie’s shoes and her pillow.
One corner had several large bloodstains on it and I just held it to my
face. The smell of her blood made me a little
nauseous but it was all I had of Jamie and gave me a small sense of comfort. Kristie gave me Jamie’s gorilla. She slept with this soft, plump stuffed animal
every night. It became my sleeping companion
for the next year.
Tuesday,
February 11, 1997
My
sister Stephanie arrived from Florida. I rode
in her car to the funeral home. I could
hardly put one foot in front of the other. I
Did Not Want To Do This! It’s not right! Jamie is not supposed to die before me!
I
was taken into a conference room and sat down in the first chair on the right side of the
table. Jim sat beside me and my family sat
around the rest of the table. Mr. Stewart sat
at the top of the table beside me. He asked
me about family names to be put in the newspaper, where were we going to bury her and what
kind of memorial book I wanted. Fortunately,
my family was able to give the correct names and relationships. I had no idea where Jamie would be buried and I
just stared at the different books they put before me.
Finally, I picked the pink one with roses on the front. Roses are Jamie’s favorite flower.
Then
I was escorted into a room with caskets stacked one over one. They lined the room and went in two isles down the
middle. I nearly fainted. I didn’t want to look at caskets! I wanted my little girl back! Don’t make me look at these! I just wanted to go back in time to force her to
come home! Some how, I did my duty. I picked out a silver casket with platinum handles
and a satin sunburst fabric interior. Next,
to find a cemetery!
We
all rode to the Eternal Hills cemetery in Snellville.
My two older sisters have plots there and I didn’t want Jamie to be
alone. When we got there, Amy came over to my
car and said, “Jamie doesn’t want to be here!” “What are you saying?” I replied. “She is screaming in my head that she doesn’t
want to be buried here.” “Then
where are we suppose to bury her? The funeral
is tomorrow, Amy”. “I don’t
know. But she is really loud!”
We
went into the office and the salesman was meeting with another family. We filled the room, spilling over the furniture. We waited about 25 minutes. During this time Amy kept going in and out of the
building. Finally the salesman came out and
we all got back into our cars to look at plots in the back of the cemetery where my sister
Carolyn and her husband will be buried.
Amy
grabbed me by my arms and shook me hard, “Mom! Jamie
doesn’t want to be put here! She is
yelling at me to go back to Lawrenceville. She
wants to be buried in the cemetery down the street from Central High School. The one where three crosses at the entrance.
As
we pulled into the driveway at Gwinnett Memorial Gardens cemetery, a peace came upon me. I received confirmation that this is indeed where
Jamie wanted to be buried. We picked out
eight plots in the Good Shepherd Garden. There
are a lot of children buried in this section. Jamie
will be at home here. And I visit her several
times a week, even today after five years. February
9, 2002. I love you my sweet Jamie Ann. Forever adoring, Mom.