Skip to main content

AVERYday: How Blessed am I? - Part 6

I was so mad that Avery didn't have her phone that day.

That day. October 24, 2012.

Avery would have answered her phone. Jadrian, probably not. Jadrian was driving. Avery was a passenger in the back seat. Avery always answered her phone. In fact, on the days that her older sister drove her to and from gymnastics, Avery would spend much of the ride texting me.

What are we going to eat for dinner?

I'm hungry.

Can't we just get McDonald's?

I got my back hip circle with a spot!

Except not on October 24th. On that day, when I tried frantically to get a hold of someone - anyone - who could tell me where my babies were, Avery's phone was sitting on the chair in my bedroom.

For a long time I was angry. Why didn't she have her phone with her? I could have talked to her one more time! I always texted back that I loved her! Why did she leave it at home?! I could have heard her voice one more time....

I felt, I don't know, cheated, somehow. I could have had one more moment with her... but her phone was still at home.

And now I know why God ensured the phone was not with Avery on that beautiful, awful night:

That morning, Avery got dressed like she did every morning. Except this morning she looked more beautiful then she ever had. She wore her sister's black and white striped sweater with dark jeans. She asked if she could wear her sister's earrings. I told her she could. And she asked me if I would do her hair.

We were running late. We should have left. I should have shoo'd her off to the car. And yet... she was just so beautiful in that moment. So, I put my purse down on the counter and walked into the bathroom to brush my baby's hair. I remember brushing it and thinking how gorgeous the color was when you looked closely. People spent so much money on all the different colors for their hair and here she was, blessed with golds and browns.

I was standing behind her, both of us facing the large bathroom mirror... and my heart just swelled. Such a beautiful girl who didn't even care about looks. She placed no value on the outside of a person. She only saw their hearts.

We smiled at each other, happy with the hair pinned up, and the earrings in... and we walked out to the car.

She turned the volume up... Jamie Grace's "God Girl" rang through the car... and we SANG!

We sang loud and proud and just as we pulled into the school the song ended.

I switched off the radio and turned to watch Avery as she hopped out of the car and swung her backpack over her shoulder. As she picked up her gymnastics bag she looked at me and smiled: "You know, Mom, I really am a God Girl."

I smiled as I watched her walk confidently into school. Man, that girl has my heart! So graceful. So beautiful. So full of God's love. So much more than I ever was or am.

That was the last time I saw my daughter. The last words I heard my precious daughter speak to me: "You know, Mom, I really am a God Girl."


Right there: Do you see that? God gave me that gift. If she had her phone with her there is a very real possibility that her last words to me would have been I'm hungry or What's for dinner? or something equally inconsequential. And yet, here they are - "... I really am a God Girl..." a declaration of who she was to the core of her soul. A reminder to me of where her heart was. Preparing my heart for her return to God's loving arms.


How blessed am I?

Comments

Becca said…
She is beautiful.
Lisa Gullion said…
She IS beautiful!! Still sending my prayers but i think she has you completely.
Thank you for sharing this with me.
Chiconky said…
Beautiful. Inside and out.
Anna See said…
That is a beautiful gift! My last glimpse of my son was him spinning around in the driveway with a huge smile on his face. Love to you.
Chiconky said…
You were very much in my thoughts today. I hope you're doing okay.
Ellen said…
Oh my heart....be still..the mother's love surrounded you both as you combed your angel's hair..I know that feeling when "that" moment where time seems like it stands still and the imprint lays softly but firmly in your heart and mind....it was meant to be she not having her phone. The lasting moment, her words, your heart swelled. Hugs...many hugs your way.

Popular posts from this blog

The House that God Built

in·stan·ta·ne·ous /ˌinstənˈtānēəs/ adjective 1. occurring or done in an instant or instantly.
synonyms: immediate, instant, on-the-spot







The thing is, she died so sudden.
I didn't have the chance to plead with God, to make all the irrational promises. If he would just let her be okay.... I would start taking better care of my health. I would be nicer to the neighbor that drove me crazy. I would always let someone else go in front of me at Walmart no matter how long the line was. I wouldn't complain. Ever. I would volunteer at the Homeless Shelter. I would clean up after pigs. I would clip the toenails of the elderly. I would do anything and everything He would ask me to do....
There is a box on her death certificate that captures the amount of time between the initial injury and the time of death. It reads "seconds." I wish it read "instantaneous" because she deserves a clever word like that.
Fast forward five years.... definitely taking MUCH longer than "…

Seeing Avery All Grown Up

One day I'll tell you about the freezing cold we left and the heavy bags we lugged, full of supplies and medicines. I'll tell you about arriving in Port au Prince and walking across a cracked concrete parking lot to board an old school bus with a flat tire. How the heat was suffocating after months of below zero Wisconsin winter weather, how the people crowded and walked too close to moving traffic as we searched for a tire shop that was barely more than a couple men sitting on overturned 5-gallon buckets on the side of the road next to a pile of old tires, everything covered in dirt.

I'll tell you about waiting on the bus while they removed the tire and I'll recall the loud explosion that rocked the bus and scared the life out of me and how I was relieved to learn it was just the tire blowing after being filled too far. (They didn't have any gauges.) And then I'll tell you about the fear I felt when I realized we didn't have a tire and we were stuck on th…

When Your Imagined Life is Nothing Like This One

There were so many ways I imagined my adult life would be....THIS is not one of them.
I posted that on my Facebook wall last night. It might have been seen as funny except my choice of hashtags gave me away:
treading water getting nowhere piles of disappointment not many successes worn out and exhausted out of options

I always imagined my life would be thrilling. Full of exciting adventures and people from all over the world. I would dine at Ethiopian, Thai, and Indian restaurants. I would write books, teach English, coach forensics and direct the play. My husband would be charming and funny and not care about gender roles when it came to household chores. He would beg for at least six kids and I would fall in love with him all over again each time I caught him giving good life advice.
I would take photographs and travel the world documenting the people I came across. I would adopt a sibling group of three or maybe four and work on foster care policies because the ones we have aren't work…