tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-77391043112312362182024-03-13T09:29:16.457-07:00Losing AndrewAndrew died Thursday, March 24, 2016 in a motorcycle accident. I want to recount stories and memories of him here. Feel free to comment and share your thoughts.Lorihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10461927633184008180noreply@blogger.comBlogger63125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7739104311231236218.post-29485633297509796512023-08-22T06:25:00.003-07:002023-08-22T06:25:56.629-07:00You Should Be Here<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPK0K8ZV7HbOQ7WYiWk8JTW3y2STHXx_WSGf6qMG_V8eJ7uI_rE5TOgqbDXGZRmdU7zHdfgTvvHyi8SzHbWR4dvAHxJK_8ScTTsTVFxNyUFzFC_wSzJ6D_4UGfDLi-arH7zU8XIeQPxptr7mZQsVJnUSEC7s0Uuc0lmw-GDQlsTB0m6PIHVX3GJuvw63Iz/s3264/IMG_0520.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3264" data-original-width="2448" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPK0K8ZV7HbOQ7WYiWk8JTW3y2STHXx_WSGf6qMG_V8eJ7uI_rE5TOgqbDXGZRmdU7zHdfgTvvHyi8SzHbWR4dvAHxJK_8ScTTsTVFxNyUFzFC_wSzJ6D_4UGfDLi-arH7zU8XIeQPxptr7mZQsVJnUSEC7s0Uuc0lmw-GDQlsTB0m6PIHVX3GJuvw63Iz/s320/IMG_0520.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br /> Dear Andrew,<p></p><p>Today is your 28th birthday, which makes you the same age as I was when I had you, making me twice as old as you. I can hear you making fun of me now, my wrinkles, my gray hair, my slower gait, and my fading memory.</p><p>You should be here.</p><p>I imagine we'd start the day with a Waffle House breakfast, after dropping your kids off at daycare. Yes, I imagine you have two by now. One boy, with your same striking good looks and natural athletic abilities. And your daughter, who has your thick, beautiful long eyelashes and your quick, but subtle wit.</p><p>You should be here.</p><p>We'd have to meet up with Matt for a couple games of bowling and recount the many times we've done that, specifically the countless games we played in Tampa after Nana died.</p><p>You should be here.</p><p>The afternoon would be spent on the water, either tubing or jet skiing, and me laughing as you and Matt try to outdo each other with tricks, but secretly praying neither of you get hurt.</p><p>You should be here.</p><p>We'd talk about how well the Braves are doing while starting the smack talk for our upcoming fantasy football league. We might even talk about a hopeful season for the Falcons.</p><p>You should be here.</p><p>We'd finish the day with you, your family, Matt & Alexandra, and me enjoying endless shrimp at Red Lobster. We'd all sit in amazement at the amount of scampi you could put away.</p><p>You should be here.</p><p>I'd end my day with thankful prayers for having you for one more year. Praise for all that you are and all that you have accomplished. Grateful that God let me be your mother (and Matt's mom too). Instead, I am thankful I had you for 20+ years and I praise God for all you accomplished in that short time, including all the lives you touched. I am forever grateful God chose me to be your mom and as much grief and loneliness as there is following the sudden and unexpected loss of you, I still trust God and His master plan for you, Matt, and me.</p><p>Stupid motorcycle.</p><p>Love you forever,</p><p>Mom</p>Lorihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10461927633184008180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7739104311231236218.post-44923806776723318732022-08-22T13:14:00.000-07:002022-08-22T13:14:19.428-07:00Happy Heavenly Birthday<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXjdr6_r5Jqki5JJrHCSEPgGIfdwYdqB7DWO1ZyfCO5t08ooxyt1qmew8yPzjNH8Oap_ODXH6s96ysTWVumMuAZs3_L0vlvdYnFAhmcgW0Sr0Xrer5Mot6fM_3KRTpcgJejEI2TX2L8zjqm3QZKZJIxA8INbbLcjniCTrJjsA6fIsQOkALMePw8Cvu6w/s2743/cupcake.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2368" data-original-width="2743" height="276" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXjdr6_r5Jqki5JJrHCSEPgGIfdwYdqB7DWO1ZyfCO5t08ooxyt1qmew8yPzjNH8Oap_ODXH6s96ysTWVumMuAZs3_L0vlvdYnFAhmcgW0Sr0Xrer5Mot6fM_3KRTpcgJejEI2TX2L8zjqm3QZKZJIxA8INbbLcjniCTrJjsA6fIsQOkALMePw8Cvu6w/s320/cupcake.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p>Andrew would be 27 today. I'm sure he is celebrating. I am. So is Matt. We just returned from Hilton Head Island where we spent a few days enjoying each other's company, sharing some laughs, eating some good food, shopping, and just hanging out near the water. I kept thanking Matt for coming with me this weekend and then he politely told me to stop. He said he too wanted to remember Andrew and celebrate his birthday, that this wasn't just for me. My sweet Matt, so strong, so caring, such a great brother. Often in my grief, I forget that Matt also mourns the loss of Andrew. He rarely gets to express it because he is always trying to keep me going. Thank you for that, Matt. </p><p>I was also reminded that there is still so much fun to be had with Matt. What a wonderful man he has become. Though I lost one son, God certainly blessed me with another. I am grateful every single day for Matt and his love. He is smart, talented, self-motivated, and he has a heart that exceeds my imagination. He's also one of the funniest people I know and can get me laughing harder than anyone else. </p><p>I'm just about to eat the red velvet cupcake I bought as a toast to Andrew. I still love and miss him every day. Happy Heavenly Birthday, Andrew. Matt and I love you infinity!</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><p></p>Lorihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10461927633184008180noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7739104311231236218.post-23317492024764012942022-03-24T18:16:00.006-07:002022-03-24T18:20:23.111-07:00Year Six - Another Angelversary<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKV_RIYF1JJtIIsd4WY5alqYvffnGBg5Yns8r1qh7Mqomgj9b8XI0Q7c8oOjEE2qBks9BVRLKBYsPprhmn9rHIHpV0Z5fXw6wIQ5VV-5ibIkGCS8WYhgrpYmFixGhZ4QenYe0E_aIAyZWBS6tC8EowOg4eS1VYaN546M7A-8bgAy1f-eNzGyajtXNl1Q/s3264/IMG_1807.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3264" data-original-width="2448" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKV_RIYF1JJtIIsd4WY5alqYvffnGBg5Yns8r1qh7Mqomgj9b8XI0Q7c8oOjEE2qBks9BVRLKBYsPprhmn9rHIHpV0Z5fXw6wIQ5VV-5ibIkGCS8WYhgrpYmFixGhZ4QenYe0E_aIAyZWBS6tC8EowOg4eS1VYaN546M7A-8bgAy1f-eNzGyajtXNl1Q/s320/IMG_1807.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br />Well, I made it. Today marks the 6th year since Andrew died. It was the first time I have worked this day and I made it through the whole day with only a few tears. Those tears came when chatting with Matt this morning. Sometimes my own grief can be so overwhelming that I forget the loss that day was not just mine. Matt lost a brother, his only sibling. My siblings lost a nephew. My dad lost a grandson. My aunts, uncles, and cousins lost him too. Natalia lost her boyfriend. Coworkers lost a treasured team member. Classmates lost a friend. Zeus lost his owner. And me, I lost a child. Forgive me as I take a moment to reflect on what is the absolute worst pain a parent can ever endure. It is so unfathomable, that I would not wish it on even my worst enemy.<p></p><p>I posted this morning on Facebook and I received many supportive comments, texts, and calls throughout the day. I treasure each person who lifted Matt and me up in prayer today. In many of those comments, I saw where people said I was strong, tough, brave, etc. I'm humbled that others see that. That is not at all how I feel. I often feel broken, wounded, helpless, and defeated. Many days feel pointless as I constantly look for ways to make sense of my life minus Andrew. </p><p>But I have to say, through all my grief, I am also constantly reminded of how loved Andrew was and is. I am also constantly reminded of how many people love Matt and me. We continue to be blessed with amazing family and friends who always know just the right thing to say (or not say) and how to be there without intruding. We are blessed. If you think that is strength, then know this...that strength comes from the Lord. There have been many days where I just want to escape it all and stay in bed, but God speaks to me and gives me the strength to get up and get going. <br /></p><p>There hasn't been a single day that I felt God left me alone. He constantly shows up. Sometimes it is with a phone call or text from a friend. Sometimes it is a card in the mail. Sometimes it is a Facebook memory. Sometimes it is a television show. Sometimes it's an article I read. One year, on the anniversary of Andrew's death, the starting pitcher at spring training was named Andrew. It's these little tidbits of God's unfailing love that remind me, there is a purpose, he has a plan, and he loves me. So again, if you see that as strength, please know it is God working to heal my heart and help me to keep going.</p><p>Matt's post on Facebook today was right on the money. He said in the past six years many things had changed. But, one that has not changed is how loved and missed Andrew is every day. Matt is right, we continue to love and miss him. God has kept that going too!</p><p>Thanks again for all the love and support. We appreciate you!</p>Lorihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10461927633184008180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7739104311231236218.post-84874879770427772902021-03-24T02:49:00.000-07:002021-03-24T02:49:45.045-07:00Five Year Angelversary<p>Five years. Five long years. Five years of random tears. Five years of wondering what might have been. Five years of heartache. Yes, I still think of you every day. Yes, I miss you every single day. Yes, it still hurts.</p><p>It struck me today that while I still struggle with Andrew's death, I am not alone. I know God is with me, but I am referring to others who also experienced this terrible day with me. I got the call from my boss to come to the hospital emergency room because Andrew had been in an accident. How hard must that call have been for Cynamin? She knew he was gone, but couldn't tell me because they needed me to drive carefully to get there. Thank you, Lord, for providing a strong woman of faith to make that initial call. I know she was praying for us as soon as she knew.</p><p>The first person I called was Matt. How difficult that call was to make because technically, I couldn't say for certain he was gone. My head knew it, but my heart didn't want to believe it. Matt went from older brother to only child in a phone call. He lost a brother with no warning and no opportunity to say goodbye. I couldn't offer much comfort as I have never lost a sibling and because I was crumbling knowing I had lost a child. Matt was in Augusta, so he had to drive back to Atlanta, what a difficult journey that was for him. Thank you, Lord, for delivering him safely home, while providing friends who comforted him via telephone and were waiting at the hospital to welcome him when he arrived.</p><p>Next, I called my brother Chris, the brother who lives in London. What a rock he is, a calming voice in the storm of chaos in my mind. He was just two days away from being home for Easter. I wouldn't learn until later of his pain and guilt over the accident. You see, Chris controlled Andrew's trust from our mom and he had given Andrew the money to buy the motorcycle. I had no idea the guilt he had and the what-ifs he went through. It never occurred to me to blame Chris, nor do I. If you knew Andrew, then you know, he would have gotten the money another way if Chris had said no. Thank you, Lord, for a brother and uncle who loves and cares so deeply.</p><p>I don't remember the exact order of other people I called, but there was my Aunt Becky and Uncle Mike, who were headed to their grandson's birthday party. Instead, they rerouted themselves to the hospital, a two-hour drive for them. Thank you, Lord, for a family that understands that just being there is important.</p><p>I called my sisters on my way to the hospital, which were also difficult calls to make. At the time I called my sisters, I wasn't at the hospital, so I wasn't 100% certain of his status. By the time they had gotten there, I assumed they knew he was gone, so when they walked in the room to see him, they were shocked to learn he had died. How awful was that for them? I thought they already knew so when they asked me how he was, I coldly said, "he's dead," not realizing they didn't know. I'll always regret not being softer when I told them. They called our brother, Michael, who lives in California to give him the news. He caught the next flight out and arrived very early the next morning. Thank you, Lord, for siblings who show up without having to say, I need you.</p><p>I called a friend and co-worker, Cindy, and she came straight to the hospital, even though she had just left for the day. She sat with me while I cried and helped me make phone calls. Thank you, Lord, for providing friends who show up when needed.</p><p>When I got to the hospital, Sherri met me at the entrance to escort me through the emergency room to where they were keeping Andrew. I knew he was gone when I saw her because she had been crying. If you don't know, Andrew and I both worked at the hospital, Andrew in the emergency room, and Sherri was his boss. I'm sure it was difficult for Sherri to have to make that walk with me. She put her arm around me while the doctor went through the "we did all that we could" rhetoric. I remember saying, probably frantically, "where is he?" and "can I see him?". I was truly worried they were going to say I couldn't see him, fearing he was too "mangled" from the crash. I just knew that as a mom, there was no way I could say goodbye if I couldn't see him. Thank you, Lord, for Sherri and her caring and comforting spirit.</p><p>Many things become blurry at this point, I had so many more calls to make, including calling Natalia, Andrew's girlfriend. Knowing I needed her to get to the hospital safely, I wasn't sure what to tell her. I tried to get her mom to bring her, but due to a language barrier, it ended up her knowing he had been in an accident. When she arrived and I had to tell her he was gone, it was awful. They had been together since junior year of high school. Thank you, Lord, for giving Andrew someone who loved him so deeply and completely.</p><p>At some point, I also called my friend Tami. Tami has known Andrew since he was two. Our boys grew up together through after-school care and basketball at church. We bonded as single-mothers of boys and over our love of baseball. She was as much a mom to Andrew as I was, so her pain was just as real as mine. She was devastated when I told her. She was so upset, I found myself comforting her and she was apologizing for not comforting me. But that is what happens when a friendship is that deep, comfort occurs naturally. Thank you, Lord, for giving me a friendship that has lasted so long and remained so deep.</p><p>Since we were in the emergency room, where Andrew worked, all of the staff were coming by to offer support and condolences. Many of them were crying, after all, they had just said good-bye to him less than an hour earlier as he headed home from his shift. As family and friends began arriving, as well as co-workers who had left for the day, but heard the news and returned, the hospital administrator, Jay, made arrangements to move us to another area of the hospital that was closed for the day. This allowed us plenty of space to receive friends and family, without disrupting the emergency room. He even made sure to tell me we could stay as long as we wanted to. Thank you, Lord, for providing Andrew and me with an employer who understood the value of associates and for treating us like family.</p><p>I would also learn later of the two women who had stopped to help Andrew immediately following the crash. One was my next-door neighbor and she continues to pray for me. The other, someone I have never met, but she held Andrew in her arms, said his name, and offered him comfort as he was dying. To this woman, Allison, I am eternally grateful. How amazing that she cared enough to find out his name, having someone search his backpack to find out what it was, so she could call him by his name. But also, how difficult must this have been for her? She is a mom too, so she did what a mother would do, comforting a child and praying for them. Her own children, much younger than Andrew, watched her from their car. How difficult that must have been for them and how difficult must it have been for her to talk about with them afterward? Thank you, Lord, for providing these women of faith in just the right place, at just the right time.</p><p>Yes, I still have difficult days. Yes, I still miss him. Yes, it bothers me that people think I should be over it by now. No, I don't think I will ever be over it and yes, that is okay. Everyone grieves differently, but a mother grieves forever. Thank you, Lord, for never leaving me, even in my grief.</p>Lorihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10461927633184008180noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7739104311231236218.post-4507735821636443522020-08-21T22:12:00.001-07:002020-08-21T22:17:20.384-07:00Happy Birthday My Angel<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiuv_9EqKzfvglBEkL9STNlFHPRkL9rKeCagWdEhzc6NDf-qPlJLas_4a-78cMyKHOdD-N3jeyraO6Al85MoHi3U-BYBX2nt809C25yM2x6In34J13HG-y1fp_9xfbRLpFSVLyUmfFGdTm/s2048/IMG_0520.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiuv_9EqKzfvglBEkL9STNlFHPRkL9rKeCagWdEhzc6NDf-qPlJLas_4a-78cMyKHOdD-N3jeyraO6Al85MoHi3U-BYBX2nt809C25yM2x6In34J13HG-y1fp_9xfbRLpFSVLyUmfFGdTm/s640/IMG_0520.JPG" /></a></div><p><br /></p>Happy Birthday My Angel.<p></p><p>Today you are 25. This would have been a milestone year for you, despite the craziness of 2020. For starters, it is likely your insurance rates would be dropping - assuming you had kept a clean driving record. You would also be a college graduate by now and hopefully, be working in your dream job as a fire medic. I wonder how many lives you would have saved, how much comfort you might have brought to someone in the aftermath of an accident or tragedy. It's also likely you would be married by now and maybe even a dad. That would make me a grandma and I would be so proud. You'd probably have a house now and hopefully enough room in a basement or in-law suite for me. After all, I'd need to be able to see my grandchild daily and be ready to babysit anytime!</p><p>So many things I believe you would have accomplished, so many things I feel we were both cheated out of experiencing. It's really very simple, I miss you. I miss all the things that might have been. Some days it still hurts to breathe and some days I manage to pretend nothing is wrong. Some days I even manage to function normally, but the truth is, nothing will ever be the same again. There will always be a piece of my heart that is missing. Yes, I still love Jesus, and this is what makes it possible for me to breathe each day without you here. Knowing I will get to be with you again is the hope I need.</p><p>Thank you for the 20+ years we did get to spend together. Thank you for being the first one in the pool once the gate was open. Thank you for providing so much entertainment as the batboy for Matt's travel team. Thank you for all the foot rubs and back massages. Thank you for the sweet and silent ways you showed you loved me too. Thank you for making me a mom a second time. Thank you for being the annoying little brother to Matt. Thank you for never backing down from a dare and for your competitive spirit. Thank you for all the joy and for all the tears. Thank you for being you. Thank you for letting me love you. Thank God I am your mom.</p><p>Happy Birthday My Angel. I love you forever.</p>Lorihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10461927633184008180noreply@blogger.com4Duluth, GA 30096, USA33.9812131 -84.1540658999999925.6709792638211525 -119.31031589999999 62.291446936178843 -48.997815899999992tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7739104311231236218.post-68330849646452445642020-03-23T21:23:00.002-07:002020-03-23T21:23:36.025-07:00Four YearsIt's been four years today. I still miss you every day. I wonder what jokes you'd be making about the coronavirus. I wonder if you'd be a fire medic by now. I wonder if you would be married and have kids. I know you are better off now, but I am not. I still miss you every day.Lorihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10461927633184008180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7739104311231236218.post-17909594557925151882018-12-18T21:20:00.000-08:002018-12-18T21:20:20.674-08:001,000 Days and a Broken CrossToday is going to be hard. This day, 12/19/2018, marks 1,000 days since Andrew died. It somehow seems significant and worthy of a mention. There have been more than 1,000 tears shed, more than 1,000 times I've thought of him, and more than 1,000 reasons I miss him. But there is also a reason he died when he did and while I might not know God's plan, I have to continue to trust Him. It's one of the hardest things to do but the knowledge that I will see him again in heaven is what keeps me hanging on. Later today I'll be with my work family celebrating Christmas so hopefully that will take my mind off of it.<br />
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On to the cross. Last week something happened and the cross Andrew's friends placed at the intersection of his accident was broken. It appears there was another accident as there are tire tracks and skid marks along the sidewalk and grass as well as a broken Chevron sign. I pray no one was injured as a result. Here are the pictures of what was left.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLANbAb1pP33iEfBnm5mYmA2ozHNzAVe5GTvsYrbCq5hZepnDO5GCWhupC2LAJIiwaDOCCX1ScmZQ4SRextfLsBja_IlirMlZYkOpvJD1ieDrDDP9ZgG9RjFz3RWu-r4_sWLSi6N3ESewO/s1600/IMG_2633.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLANbAb1pP33iEfBnm5mYmA2ozHNzAVe5GTvsYrbCq5hZepnDO5GCWhupC2LAJIiwaDOCCX1ScmZQ4SRextfLsBja_IlirMlZYkOpvJD1ieDrDDP9ZgG9RjFz3RWu-r4_sWLSi6N3ESewO/s320/IMG_2633.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOZIvpC6pB1hE0e0mrfOaVaLtVpPbXenDGgRdHLpwN0l5X2kK3RQcrv3uMAE8QwcnD-8xWbLUchgrt0lW1GSLOyzUXhECBD4xdxKWq6yYLqcxJZhgPyv_yzRXfVzXGq1d3hAmzJ_Jha4op/s1600/IMG_2636.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; display: inline !important; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOZIvpC6pB1hE0e0mrfOaVaLtVpPbXenDGgRdHLpwN0l5X2kK3RQcrv3uMAE8QwcnD-8xWbLUchgrt0lW1GSLOyzUXhECBD4xdxKWq6yYLqcxJZhgPyv_yzRXfVzXGq1d3hAmzJ_Jha4op/s320/IMG_2636.jpg" width="240" /></a><br />
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Matt went and retrieved it, so I currently have it at home. There is really no way to repair it. We talked about what we should do and both agreed we are okay with not putting another one back up. Some of you may be upset by that and I want to be understanding of your reasons for wanting it there but I also hope you understand mine. I often feel guilty that I don't visit more or take flowers more often. I see it every day when I drive to work and again when I drive home. It's on the route I take anytime I head that direction, for shopping, movies, Swarm games, etc. So it is a constant reminder of my loss. Andrew is also not there. He isn't buried there and even if his body was buried somewhere he's still in heaven, having a great time. I am eternally grateful his friends thought enough of him to mark the site where he died and if someone else wants to put one back up I will understand. Like I said earlier it has been 1,000 days since he died and while I will continue to mourn for the rest of my life, I would prefer to remember him in happier times and not be consumed with reminders of grief and sadness. Don't get me wrong, I will still have my moments and I appreciate when you all recognize that and either let me talk about him or let me be alone, but as I drove through that intersection yesterday, and knew the cross wasn't there, I didn't look over to see it and it was the first time I could remember not dreading the intersection.<br />
<br />
Grief is different for everyone and what affects me may not affect someone else the same way. So again, if anyone feels compelled to replace the cross I will understand and support you. Thank you as always for listening (or reading) my ramblings and for your love and support.<br />
<br />
Merry Christmas to all!<br />
<br />Lorihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10461927633184008180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7739104311231236218.post-58960072704187405892017-04-08T19:58:00.001-07:002017-04-08T19:59:02.296-07:00Heartbreak at the Cross<div class="MsoNormal">
Sometime today (April 8, 2017) between 10:00 a.m. and 3:00
p.m. someone vandalized the cross Andrew’s friends put up after he died. This is at the intersection of Duluth Hwy 120
and Boggs Road. The gas station’s cameras don’t cover the area so we could not
get any video and the workers didn’t recall seeing anything unusual. They probably thought anyone there had reason
to be there. If you saw anything, heard
anything, or know anything, please let me, Matt, or Natalia know. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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We have taken down the cross, I have sanded off the lipstick
markings and we are planning to make it even better before putting it back
up. To those of you who have shown
support, thank you so much. <o:p></o:p></div>
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To the person(s) who did this:<o:p></o:p></div>
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I am
very sorry for your loss of Fred Bowens.
I don’t know if he was your dad, son, brother, or friend but I am
intimately familiar with the pain of losing someone you love. That said, your disrespect for my pain is
heartbreaking. I would never defile
something done in memorial for someone. My son, Andrew, was deeply loved by many and
those people often visit his cross, some even having a chat with him while they
are there. He died March 24, 2016 in a
motorcycle accident at that intersection.
I drive through that intersection every single day on my way to and from
work. Each day I look at that cross and
say a little prayer and am reminded of how much he is loved. You might be able to mar the cross but you
can never mar the memories or my love for him.
His cross has been taken down for the moment, so it can be repaired –
and in fact, upgraded. So, thank you for
the opportunity to make it even better and more representative of him. I hope you can find peace with your
loss. I have peace, because I know
Jesus, as did Andrew, and therefore, I will see him again one day. Until then, I’ll continue to say a prayer
each day and remember how much he is loved.<o:p></o:p></div>
Lorihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10461927633184008180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7739104311231236218.post-85556907258034292972017-03-28T14:57:00.000-07:002017-03-28T15:02:22.063-07:00Gut Punch<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">So memories are a
wonderful thing...they remind you of the hilarious times you had with family
and friends. They can take you back to a point in time when you were
happy. They can also take you right back to the darkest days of your
life. That's what happened to me today. I woke up feeling fine,
headed to my first day back to work since returning from Orlando, where Matt
and I (along with Alex and Starla) went to escape being in Georgia on the day
Andrew died. I should have taken one more day of vacation. It
didn't occur to me when planning that this day would actually be much harder to
"remember". This is the day that one year I spoke at Andrew's
memorial service. I was reminded of this with Facebook memories.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">No parent should ever
have to memorialize their child. That said, it was also my greatest
honor. To share thoughts, memories, and the hopes and dreams about Andrew
was also a blessing. I got to brag on him without anyone rolling their eyes.
But it was, without question, the most difficult day of my life. To
recall it today and remember the pain I was feeling brought me right back to
the sadness and grief. I cried as I thought about how the day played out.
I remember being so frustrated I couldn't get it together to get to the
funeral home ahead of the other guests. I had to send Matt to get some
cash to pay people because I had not done that prior. I guess I just had
too much going on and I just didn't really want to have to do any of it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Today these came up in my Facebook
memories and while I would have preferred to never have to speak at a service
for my son, I am so thankful for my friends who celebrated Andrew with me and
continue to do so.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b><span style="color: #90949c; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><a href="https://www.facebook.com/kim.s.dowell?fref=nf"><span style="color: #365899;">Kim Sparaco Dowell</span></a></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; vertical-align: middle;">
<span style="color: #90949c; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 9.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><a href="https://www.facebook.com/kim.s.dowell/posts/10209147873684300"><span style="color: #90949c;">March 28, 2016 at 8:10pm</span></a> · <a href="https://www.facebook.com/pages/Suwanee-Georgia/112692468745226"><span style="color: #90949c;">Suwanee</span></a> · <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">I feel compelled to
tell you about my friend <a href="https://www.facebook.com/lori.carson.334"><span style="color: #365899;">Lori Carson</span></a>. She is lots of things, sarcastic,
hilarious, kind, gentle and loving. Today she had to put her 20 year old son
Andrew to rest, he was killed in an accident on Thursday. Today the chapel was
filled to the brim with people who love her and her boys. Today, as sad and
heartbreaking as this loss is, my friend was AMAZING! She made everyone laugh,
cry, sob and laugh again. She held it together like a champ and I know Andrew
was so proud of her. Today she portrayed strength and honor. She stood up there
in front of a room full of mourners and made everyone feel Gods peace and love.
I am in awe and am honored to call her my friend....I love you Lori!</span><span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 10.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 1.5pt; mso-outline-level: 5; vertical-align: middle;">
<b><span style="color: #90949c; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><a href="https://www.facebook.com/tina.chapman.35?fref=nf"><span style="color: #365899;">Tina Chapman</span></a></span></b><span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 10.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; vertical-align: middle;">
<span style="color: #90949c; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 9.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><a href="https://www.facebook.com/tina.chapman.35/posts/10201911594549250"><span style="color: #90949c;">March 28, 2016 at 8:02pm</span></a> · <a href="https://www.facebook.com/pages/Lawrenceville-Georgia/105523156148899"><span style="color: #90949c;">Lawrenceville</span></a> · <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><a href="https://www.facebook.com/lori.carson.334"><span style="color: #365899;">Lori
Carson</span></a> I am truly in awe of the strength you showed today. You
are a very strong woman. I am blessed to know you.</span><span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 10.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<a href="https://www.facebook.com/cynamin.kinard?fref=nf"><span style="color: #365899; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 9.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-no-proof: yes; text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;"><!--[if gte vml 1]><v:shape
id="Picture_x0020_2" o:spid="_x0000_i1025" type="#_x0000_t75" alt="https://scontent-atl3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t1.0-1/c204.44.552.552/s80x80/970855_116312431909894_1689159573_n.jpg?oh=8ca9b388b0531da389b3c688f394996d&oe=595D7AC5"
href="https://www.facebook.com/cynamin.kinard?fref=nf" style='width:60pt;
height:60pt;visibility:visible;mso-wrap-style:square' o:button="t">
<v:imagedata src="file:///C:\Users\lcarson\AppData\Local\Temp\msohtmlclip1\01\clip_image002.jpg"
o:title="970855_116312431909894_1689159573_n"/>
</v:shape><![endif]--><!--[if !vml]--><!--[endif]--></span></a><span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 9.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b><span style="color: #90949c; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><a href="https://www.facebook.com/cynamin.kinard?fref=nf"><span style="color: #365899;">Cynamin Kinard</span></a></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; vertical-align: middle;">
<span style="color: #90949c; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 9.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><a href="https://www.facebook.com/cynamin.kinard/posts/433521873522280"><span style="color: #90949c;">March 28, 2016 at 5:35pm</span></a> · <a href="https://www.facebook.com/pages/Duluth-Georgia/105759616123502"><span style="color: #90949c;">Duluth</span></a> · <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Today I witnessed the
real and true strength of mother. God Bless you Lori <a href="https://www.facebook.com/lori.carson.334"><span style="color: #365899;">Lori
Carson</span></a></span><span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 10.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Then, the other
memories on this day, all seemed to be about Andrew as well.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">From 2012 - I posted
about falling and busting my already bad knee just as Andrew and I were set to
leave for London(spring break) to visit my brother and his family.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
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<span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">From 2013 - My car
turned 100,000 miles on the way to Andrew's lacrosse game.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">From 2014 - I posted
about his new furniture because he was graduating high school and would
eventually be moving to his first apartment.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">From 2015 - I was an
empty nester, he had officially moved out.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Then the dreaded March
28, 2016, when I had my final goodbye speech to Andrew. Rough day then, rough
today. But the difference with today - I don't feel the same hopelessness
I remember this time last year. I know I will see him again, I just miss
him now. I know he is with God and I know God is with me.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Thank you to everyone
for continuing to love and support me...and letting my cry or ramble when I
need too.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Lorihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10461927633184008180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7739104311231236218.post-79957907691461425372017-03-24T22:05:00.000-07:002017-03-24T22:05:28.098-07:00Remembering Andrew<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 107%;">It's
been a year. I thought today would be really difficult and I would spend
most of it being sad, depressed, teary-eyed, and sullen. Instead, the sun was
shining, the breeze was refreshing, and the atmosphere almost intoxicating. </span>Plus,
the people I was with (Matt, Alex, and Starla) made me laugh and smile all day
long. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGiSFdAR5TkFsb1tqE7ZxJDjR5joBndNPbrcfsYOLQn1c10uQzZo1ZlVXwqfSQ594NQlPuqwcGAxKOHl57cEs23St5ikyCDqSMLgB88uatT9Jcqip7OjVn4a0hmmA_248YowrWyQC5DUXq/s1600/family.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGiSFdAR5TkFsb1tqE7ZxJDjR5joBndNPbrcfsYOLQn1c10uQzZo1ZlVXwqfSQ594NQlPuqwcGAxKOHl57cEs23St5ikyCDqSMLgB88uatT9Jcqip7OjVn4a0hmmA_248YowrWyQC5DUXq/s640/family.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
We
started with bowling at The Main Event (we are in Orlando). They asked for the names for the scoreboard,
so we went with variations to honor Andrew.
I was Andrew, Starla was Carson, Alex was Drew, and Matt was
Justin. If you ever played Halo with Andrew
you would understand the Justin name. When he
was younger he liked that name, even asked me if he could change his to Justin,
and that was his screen name for his entire Halo career. For the record – I won the first round of bowling – and was
the only one to break 100. The second
game, well I came in dead last with only Matt breaking 100 that time.<br />
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<span style="line-height: 107%;">Matt
and Alex played billiards and Starla and I played shuffleboard. Then we had sushi. Those who know Andrew well, know he didn’t
like sushi and probably would not even have gone in the restaurant. But, Matt said we had to mix it up, so we
did. We walked around a bit, bought a
few souvenirs, then headed for dessert.
On the way to the car we had to get some mini doughnuts from the food
truck – and they were delicious, Andrew would have approved. Then Cold Stone Creamery provided another
opportunity to enjoy something Andrew did – ice cream. I’m pretty sure we were going whether he approved
or not, since Starla had mentioned Cold Stone no less than 5 times today.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 107%;">Afterwards
we came back to the condo and played games, laughing much of the time. Many thanks to these goofballs for keeping me
smiling today and enjoying happy memories of Andrew instead of a day filled
with sadness.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 107%;">I
was also the recipient of many texts, messages, and posts from friends and
family who were thinking of Andrew, Matt and me today. I’m so fortunate to have such incredible
people in my life. Thank you to everyone
for remembering Andrew today. I want to
share some of these stories with you.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 107%;">First,
Cindy Finck, placed flowers at the cross where the accident happened. They are beautiful. She told Matt and me that she had a chat with
Andrew while she was there and told him to watch over us. She also said that just then she felt a breeze
and knew it was him assuring her he was watching over us. Thank you Cindy – I really appreciate it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjr14irpj0rezFjg3sAn1YQpoX8lIkL7fT8RrZmieYXbFwQXagtR47SLNW_6nD9lsDH-1sCmlRIY2giCYEJMpGkW_6B8amdVFpviJTILMare3iiH3HmvY66TMCH3xzRDD_ah3hwZ0zxgHn/s1600/cross.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjr14irpj0rezFjg3sAn1YQpoX8lIkL7fT8RrZmieYXbFwQXagtR47SLNW_6nD9lsDH-1sCmlRIY2giCYEJMpGkW_6B8amdVFpviJTILMare3iiH3HmvY66TMCH3xzRDD_ah3hwZ0zxgHn/s320/cross.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 107%;">Next,
Sherri Creech and Detrick Johnson (Andrew’s Director and Supervisor) met at his
cross and placed a bow tie on it. You
see, Detrick loved for the men to wear ties at work and Andrew said he liked
bow ties and if Sherri bought him one he would wear it. She kept her promise, despite his passing,
and placed it on the cross. Love it!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 107%;">At
the hospital today, many folks emailed me to share that they were remembering
Andrew. Becky and Kim from the ED
clinical staff presented a basket of goodies to the registration staff, which
Andrew was a part of, because they had remembered and loved and missed Andrew
too. I was really touched by this
sentiment as it was totally unexpected.
As a mom, hearing how much others love your child is truly
precious. Thank you Gwinnett Medical
Center, for loving Andrew and remembering him in such a special way.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 107%;">My
sister-in-law, Caitriona, sent a picture of the tree we planted in their London
garden last year on Memorial Day. As she
put it, “it was just coming in to leaf today”.
I talked with Chris, my brother, by phone a bit later, and he said
within a few more weeks it should be blooming as well.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 107%;">My
friend, Tami Richards, was at the Georgia Swarm game tonight. For those who don’t know, that’s the
professional lacrosse team, a sport Andrew loved. She remembered him and posted about it on
Facebook.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 107%;">The
future family of my other brother, Michael, who lives in Los Angeles, sent thoughts,
prayers, and love our way too. This made
me realize that Andrew was being remembered from London to Los Angeles today. How awesome is that? How could I not be happy today? Andrew’s memory is still alive and he is well
with his Nana, Mama Jean, and Jesus.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 107%;">Thank
you to everyone who reached out to us today in some way. We are very appreciative and we are doing
well thanks to all the love and support you give us.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Lorihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10461927633184008180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7739104311231236218.post-20744859166839081952017-03-22T00:48:00.002-07:002017-03-22T00:48:52.413-07:00The Worst Year is (Almost) OverWell, it's been almost a year since Andrew's crash. Friday will mark the 365th day without him. Over the past year I have experienced much sadness and truly gut-wrenching grief. My heart has literally hurt and I've cried gallons of tears. I've experience some of the darkest days that I could have never imagined before his death. I lost my youngest, my baby, my friend, my son. Matt lost his brother, my siblings lost a nephew, my dad lost a grandson, my aunts and uncles lost a great-nephew, others lost a friend, and the world lost an amazingly brilliant young man. Heaven gained an angel.<br />
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Through all the sadness, pain, grief, guilt, ugly crying, and sorrow there were many things I didn't lose. From family and friends came an abundance of support and love. Because of these people I made it through this first year. These are the ones who stuck with me and let me talk endlessly and tell the same stories or share the same memories over and over again. They called, sent cards, stopped by, invited me places, donated for the trauma room dedication, and most importantly prayed for me. In short, I found the truest love from people when I needed it most. This was a God "thing". I'm always amazed at how he works.<br />
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As this next year without Andrew begins, I am going to try and focus on being more grateful, finding the blessings, and restoring joy in my life. I'll still share memories of Andrew and invite you to do the same, but I also want to share how my hope and joy have been restored. I am reconnecting with my faith and while I have a long way to go it is thrilling and I get excited and want to tell everyone I know when God shows me something new.<br />
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So in losing Andrew I am also Finding God...again.Lorihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10461927633184008180noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7739104311231236218.post-28330426043454995922017-02-12T08:31:00.000-08:002017-02-12T08:31:18.655-08:00What I AM LearningIt's funny that my post title includes I AM because that is exactly what I've been finding and learning. I know I haven't posted much lately and I think it is because I feel like people might be tired of me talking about Andrew. I worry they think I should just get over it and move on. That's what led me to what I want to share now.<br />
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Back at the beginning of January, Natalia and I joined a bible study led by my awesome friend, <a href="http://sarahspeaksandwrites.com/" target="_blank">Sarah Holley</a>, who is a gifted speaker and writer. The study is called Finding I AM, written by <a href="http://lysaterkeurst.com/" target="_blank">Lysa TerKeurst</a>, and it is about the seven I AM statements Jesus makes during his ministry as recorded in the book of John. When I got the invitation from Sarah I immediately thought Yes! I was searching for something, feeling a bit lost in my faith, and thought this might be the perfect answer. As the first day drew closer I started imaging reasons I would have to cancel. I could have come up with a dozen reasons why I couldn't make it after all, but I am really glad I joined. There are five of us in the group and I fully believe this was God's perfect plan as the more intimate group allowed me to open up with my grief. These women have been amazing in letting me say whatever I wanted and would listen to my story with compassionate hearts. I am truly blessed to have been included.<br />
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Now, for what I have learned. The theme of the bible study is how Jesus is the only one who can fully satisfy the cry of your heart. In examining the cry of my heart, I really just want to understand why Andrew died. What is my lesson in all of it? I realize now that I might never know, but I have to trust that God is at work. Faith. Yep, that is what it takes.<br />
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This week Sarah and Katherine taught me something I had long forgotten and presented it in a way I really understood. Prepare for mind blow here (though you may already know this story):<br />
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Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego were brought before King Nebuchadnezzar because they would not bow down to worship his god or idols of gold. The King told them if they did not worship they would be thrown into the fire and then he asked what god could save them then. The three replied they did not need to defend their God to the King, that he was mighty and could save them from the fire if He wanted too. But then here it is, the best part and only two simple words...<b>even if</b>. Daniel, chapter 3, verse 18, "but <b>even if</b> he does not...,". So they knew God could rescue them from the fire but told the King that <b>even if</b> God didn't rescue them they would still not worship the King.<br />
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Wow, powerful, right? I am learning that <b>even if</b> I never understand I must trust God is at work, even in what I perceive to be silence or unanswered prayer.<br />
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To learn more about Lysa and her teachings, you can check out her Facebook page here: https://www.facebook.com/OfficialLysa/<br />
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<br />Lorihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10461927633184008180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7739104311231236218.post-78238348888198375062016-11-22T15:27:00.001-08:002016-11-22T15:27:36.469-08:00Trauma Room DedicationIf you ever talked to Andrew about his position as a Patient Access Specialist at Gwinnett Medical Center, then you knew how much he loved traumas. He would get excited when they arrived, not because people were injured or sick, but because he loved the excitement and fast pace of the trauma team. He told me about a young man his age that came in from a motorcycle wreck and lost his leg. I asked if his mother was there and he said yes, rather sheepishly, knowing where that was headed. He saw stab wounds, gunshot victims, overdoses, and many motor vehicle accidents, but he always talked about how they survived - a testament to the trauma team and how they respond.<br />
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On Monday, November 21st, Trauma Room 1 was dedicated, in loving memory, to Andrew Carson. This was made possible by the Gwinnett Medical Center Foundation and 18 people who made donations or pledges through the STARS program. I was completely overwhelmed, when I learned what they had done, and equally thrilled it would Trauma Room 1 - Andrew's favorite place to do his work. <br />
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The Gwinnett Daily Post covered the dedication and you can read the article <a href="http://www.gwinnettdailypost.com/local/gwinnett-medical-center-trauma-room-dedicated-to-employee-killed-in/article_1d63a31c-e52b-5003-b7be-c265d2d1f27d.html" target="_blank">here</a>. The pictures below are in the article as well and courtesy of Gwinnett Daily Post Staff Writer, Erika Wells.<br />
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I'm honored this was done for Andrew and unable to adequately express my gratitude. Thanks doesn't seem to cover how much I love this and knowing that all who enter this room will now have the spirit of Andrew with them. <br />
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A few of the folks who made it possible, from left to right, Lana Craddock, Lee Rodney, Detrick Johnson, Kristen Johnson-Ohlin, Sherri Creech, Cindy Finck, Deborah Hensley, and Starla Johnson. Missing: Cathy Dougherty, Jay Dennard, Jason Chandler, Patty Lavely, Carol Fowler, Sue Troccia, Kelly Hurdt, Rebecca Lulusa, Tina Chapman, Sara Keegan, Jamie Lloyd, and Jill Smolarsky. If others donated I am simply unaware - so please accept my apologies and gratitude!<br />
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Thomas Shepherd (far left) opened the dedicated and Chuck Christie (far right) led the blessing. Sherri Creech (center right) organized the donations with Foundation Director, Ginger Powell (not pictured).<br />
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Andrew's family that was able to attend, from left to right: Natalia Tsacheva (girlfriend), Matt Carson (brother), Wyatt Robinson (cousin), Sara Carson (aunt), Carey Robinson (aunt), Don Carson (grandfather), Lori Carson (mother), Sandi Swygert (great aunt), Becky Greene (great aunt), Mike Greene (great uncle) and Lindsay Robinson (cousin).<br />
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And I couldn't resist adding these pictures of me with Matt, Natalia, and then my sisters Carey and Sara. It was an emotional day so forgive my appearance, I had too many tears and no make-up team!<br />
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<br />Lorihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10461927633184008180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7739104311231236218.post-10990883162337989072016-10-11T13:46:00.000-07:002016-10-11T13:46:13.339-07:00Andrew's First Grade JournalI had to go through some old photos today for a work thing...anyway, I found Andrew's Journal from 1st grade at Chattahoochee Elementary. As I was flipping through it, wiping back tears as I recalled his sweet face, I found this entry:<br />
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Hard to read his handwriting and clearly he was not the spelling bee champion, but what it says is:<br />
"If I could have any toy in the world I would have a motor bike." At 7 years old he wanted a motor bike. Guess some things were meant to be.Lorihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10461927633184008180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7739104311231236218.post-45778282332227631472016-10-02T17:15:00.000-07:002016-10-05T12:34:45.840-07:00IncredibleIncredible. It's the only word that I can think of right now. Gratitude simply isn't enough. I don't know how else to express my sincerest and deepest thanks to the 18 individuals who made this happen.<br />
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Here's the scoop...a few months after Andrew died I inquired about having a plaque or something placed in the emergency room at the hospital in his memory. When I learned the cost I knew I could never reach that amount so I gave up on the idea. That's when Sherri Creech took over, without my knowledge.<br />
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Sherri rallied the troops and found 17 others who wanted to make sure Andrew would not be forgotten. Together these folks either donated or pledged donations to the Gwinnett Medical Center Foundation to make it happen.<br />
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Sherri told me Thursday they had raised the money and wanted approval on the wording "In Loving Memory of Andrew Carson" for the plaque. Then the best part - it's for one of the trauma rooms in the newly renovated emergency room. If you knew Andrew, then you knew of his love for the excitement of the trauma room. It's the perfect place for his plaque and I am completely honored by this.<br />
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I don't know the names of all of the individuals who donated, by I do know a few. To all of these people I will be forever grateful that Andrew meant enough to them to do this. It's an incredible gift that I will never forget. I'm so fortunate to work with people who care this deeply and are as close as family.<br />
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If I learn the names of the others who donated I will add them here. For now this is who I know:<br />
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Sherri Creech<br />
Jason Chandler<br />
Jay Dennard<br />
Starla Johnson<br />
Cindy Finck<br />
Tina Chapman<br />
Deborah Hensley<br />
Patty Lavely<br />
Sue Troccia<br />
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If you are one of the ones who donated or pledged, please let me know and I will add your name. Also, please accept my thanks - it seems like such a small offering from me for the outpouring of love you have shown, but it is all I have. You all are my heroes for doing this and I love you dearly.<br />
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Thank you!<br />
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<br />Lorihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10461927633184008180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7739104311231236218.post-41506221050945048872016-09-24T12:14:00.001-07:002016-09-24T12:14:56.979-07:00Six MonthsIt's been six months since Andrew's crash. That's 183 days I didn't get to see those beautiful blue eyes, hear him giggle, or see him smile. It's 183 times I've had to find the will to get out of bed, get a shower, and face reality. The pain is deep and the heartache still as fresh as that afternoon on March 24th. It might look like I'm functioning normally and if you ask I'm likely going to respond that I'm okay or I'm fine, but I am still sad. I cry almost daily at some point. I want to be strong and sometimes I think I am and that I'll finally get through the darkness, then other times I just want to sleep and pretend it was all a dream.<br />
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I know many are looking forward to the holidays but I am not. I'm already fretting over Christmas and how the mantle will look with one less stocking. I worry about how Matt is going to feel. I'm even worried about silly things, like how to sign our Christmas cards this year. Even Thanksgiving will be a struggle as I'm less thankful than in previous years and feeling guilty about that as I have so much more than others. I hate that Andrew won't be here to gobble up all the turkey and rolls. The boy could definitely down some rolls. And Halloween is just around the corner. Andrew loved handing out candy or dressing up with friends and scaring others. He loved haunted houses and scary movies. I was not a fan of either but he was. Here he is a few years ago dressed up for Halloween. I guess this Halloween he'll be dressed as an angel!<br />
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Lorihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10461927633184008180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7739104311231236218.post-38408281632917646882016-08-31T18:35:00.001-07:002016-08-31T18:35:08.080-07:00Birth Month - Day 31Well, today is the last day of Andrew's birth month. It has been bittersweet to write this month's posts while reflecting back over his life. At times I am in awe of how he touched other people and then sadness overcomes me when I realize he is no longer here. The other night, just as I was drifting off to sleep I heard him say "Mom" clear as a bell. I jumped out of bed looking for him and then realized he was not there and began crying. I long to see him, talk to him, or just give him a hug - just one more time. <br />
<br />
Anyway, I thought it would be fitting to end the month with another keepsake I have. Some things I'll keep forever, and this is one of them. Andrew loved lacrosse shorts, as we all know, but he also had quite the t-shirt collection. After Matt and Natalia took the t-shirts they wanted to keep, I sent the rest off to be made into a blanket. They really do tell the story of his life. Here it is.<br />
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The top row - sort of tough to see - but these were shirts from vacations and one from our church.</div>
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The next three rows were all about his love of Nike, motorcycles, the Braves, video games, and of course - the USA red, white, and blue!</div>
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Next up is Duluth Lacrosse - he loved that game.</div>
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The last row was how he supported breast cancer - a cause close to our hearts having lost my step-mom to the disease in 2000 and then nearly losing my aunt a few years ago (she is doing well now)!</div>
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This is such a fabulous blanket and it is totally Andrew. Now I am ready for fall and winter as I have two amazing blankets (remember the one his team at work gave me with pictures) to keep me warm.</div>
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I miss you buddy! Stupid motorcycle.</div>
<br />Lorihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10461927633184008180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7739104311231236218.post-52097216429751607312016-08-30T18:36:00.000-07:002016-08-30T18:36:17.963-07:00Birth Month - Day 30<div class="MsoNormal">
As Andrew’s birth month is nearing the end, I thought I
would share a very personal letter I received.
This is a letter from a woman I have never met, but am completely
jealous of, yet at the same time eternally grateful to her. You see, she was the one who held Andrew the
day of his crash. She was the one who
encouraged him to hang on, letting him know the ambulance was coming, and she
cared enough to ask for his name. Then
she cared enough to let me know he was not alone. While I’ll always wish I could have been the
one to hold Andrew as he died so I could tell him one last time how much I
loved him, I am thankful God chose this woman (I’m not using her name to
protect her privacy – she will see this and can comment if she is okay with
others knowing it was her) to be in Andrew’s life, even if only for
minutes. Here is her story:<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Dear Ms. Carson,<o:p></o:p></div>
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My name is XXX. I am
writing to you about your son Andrew.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I was at the scene of Andrew’s accident. I thought some information about that day
might bring you some comfort and closure.
I hope this letter provides some of both for you.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
This is an incredibly difficult letter to write. To find the words to express my experience at
the accident is quite challenging. I
wrote a statement for the police report, but kept it as plain and factual as
possible, leaving out the emotions and thoughts I’ve had. I assume you’ll have access to the police
report once they finish, and can read that info if you so choose. I’m writing this letter to express the human
side, the emotional side, the thoughtful side of my experience.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I have looked at your Facebook page several times. I’ve also read the blog you’ve been writing
recently about grieving Andrew. I hope
that this is ok. It has helped me
process all that happened and helped me to know you might want this letter.<o:p></o:p></div>
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The day of the accident I was driving from my house in
Canton, to my brother-in-law’s house in Monroe, GA. I had 2 of my kids with me. I was running late, and some “random route”
that wasn’t even what google maps was telling me to take.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I was filling up my van with gas at the time of the
accident, at the gas station right there.
I heard the crash, but did not see it.
Many people ran over to the accident scene. I finished my gas purchase and drive my van
over to see if I could do anything to help, although wasn’t sure what I’d be
able to do, having my kids in the car with me.<o:p></o:p></div>
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There was a crowd of people around the scene. I asked a few people what had happened. I was informed it was a motorcycle and car
crash. It was then that I saw Andrew,
lying on the ground near his bike.
Before I could ask anyone for information on what happened, I saw Andrew
pick up his head and try to move.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I ran to him. I told him not to move. Another young man,
probably around 20 years old was near him telling him the same thing. Without much thinking or hesitation, I
cradled Andrew’s head and neck to help him hold still. I told him my name, that I would help him,
told him 911 has been called, told him help was coming. I hope that he heard me, and I am confident
that he knew I was there with him. He
stopped trying to move and his head rested on my forearm.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Another lady named XXX (also protecting her privacy), prayed
over all of us.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I desperately wanted to call him by his name. Saying “sir” when talking to him didn’t feel
right/enough. The guy that was kneeling
with me next to Andrew helped to find his work badge in his backpack. We were able to call him by his name at that
point. I wanted him to feel surrounded
by people that cared enough to help, cared enough to call him by his name.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I do not know at what point he lost consciousness, but I did
notice his head got heavier on my arm and his breathing was getting more
labored. But I talked to him regardless,
I wanted him to know he was NOT alone.<o:p></o:p></div>
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As the sirens and emergency vehicles were heard/seen, I was
telling him to hold on. I telling him
they were near. Me and the other guy
were telling him to breathe!!! There
were longer and longer spaces between each breath. But he did keep fighting to breathe,
especially every time we would call his name.
I had hoped that if he was able to survive the impact of the crash, he
may have a chance of surviving the accident.<o:p></o:p></div>
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The paramedics took over, and I walked away to check on my
kids in the van. It was not until Friday
evening that I was able to do some searching on google and found out Andrew had
not survived his injuries. It was then I
realized I probably was holding him in some of his last moments and
breaths. I hope and pray that I brought
comfort to him in those moments. I kept
thinking that if it was <i>my</i> brother or
<i>my </i>son, or <i>my</i> husband, I wouldn’t want them to have been alone. And I am thankful for the opportunity through
God’s providence to have been there with Andrew.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I am writing this letter to make sure you know Andrew was
not alone. He was prayed over. People tried to help him as best they could.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I am a bit of a wimp when it comes to injuries and blood and
such. But I wanted you to know I was
brave for your son. I do not allow my
panic or fear to settle in. I wanted to
be a source of comfort and peace for him in what had to have been a painful and
scary time.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I am a very religious person, and have asked many people to
pray for me, Andrew, you, and all those who loved him. From your writings, it appears you have faith
in Jesus as well. Please know HUNDREDS
of people have been praying for you all.
Being very religious and being present at the accident scene so close to
Easter, my experience of the Easter promise this year was intense. I am thankful fate/life/God had me running
late and on some “random route” to my destination that Thursday. Like I said, I have looked at the things you’ve
posted on Facebook in an effort to get to know the man that has so immensely
impacted my life through this experience.
The pictures on Facebook show Andrew with such gentle and warm eyes!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I cannot imagine the grief you must be experiencing in
losing your child. I am so sorry for
your loss. As I stated earlier, I hope this
letter is helpful in your grieving process.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
With much love and prayer,<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
XXX”<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
Thank God good people still exist, jump in to help in a
crisis, and offer comfort to those who grieve.
I am truly blessed and in awe of a God who would make sure Andrew was
surrounded by love. Although thanks do
not seem to be enough, it is all I have to offer this woman. My deepest and sincerest thanks go to her
daily for what she did for Andrew.<o:p></o:p></div>
Lorihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10461927633184008180noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7739104311231236218.post-55462796684726322412016-08-29T17:54:00.001-07:002016-08-29T17:54:26.465-07:00Birth Month - Day 29When Andrew was growing up he was always quiet and shy. I often wondered did he not stand a chance with Matt and I since we were always so loud. Then as he got into middle and high school I learned he was quite the talker. I thought perhaps the teachers were contacting the wrong parent but soon learned Andrew was indeed spreading his wings and talking up a storm. After he died I was desperate to hear stories about him from other people, whether they knew him well or not. I just wanted to know people remembered him fondly. I have plenty of my own stories of Andrew, but as a mother, I wanted to know that other people genuinely liked him. I wanted to know others who loved him and saw good in him too. I needed to know his life mattered and impacted others. I was not disappointed. I received many cards, letters, notes, emails, and texts full of wonderful memories. As I look back on them today, I wanted to share a couple from two people who didn't know him that well, but thought enough of him to send me these notes. Thank you to everyone who loved Andrew and many thanks for sharing your stories.<br />
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Lorihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10461927633184008180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7739104311231236218.post-76438887328039725522016-08-28T11:37:00.000-07:002016-08-28T11:37:42.191-07:00Birth Month - Day 28Teachers play an important role in the lives of our children. I knew when Andrew liked or disliked a teacher within the first week of the class. Their level of enthusiasm and ability to capture and hold his attention meant he would have a good semester. Too much homework or the same old boring thing he already mastered meant he would do just enough to get through the class but he wouldn't enjoy it or learn anything new. I knew how the teacher impacted his life, but I never knew how he impacted their lives, until he died.<br />
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Below are two notes I got from three of his teachers - all Language Arts teachers - which was odd to me, because I always thought Andrew preferred science and math. I was touched they took the time to reach out and recall how Andrew made a difference for them. I am grateful to them and hope they all continue to teach and shape the minds of future generations.<br />
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And this came in email:</div>
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<div id="yiv2853282342yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1463411558329_2712" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; font-family: HelveticaNeue, "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, "Lucida Grande", sans-serif; font-size: 12px;">
Dear Ms. Carson,</div>
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I originally wrote this on Good Friday, when I heard of Andrew’s passing. I wanted to send you a personal letter or card, but just couldn’t find it in myself. Then, I was going to send you a type-written letter. And then I lost my words. Please read what I have to say. It’s my original message and more:</div>
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Where do I begin? I suppose with an apology for sending a type-written letter. I am a big believer in tradition and find it terribly inappropriate that anyone would send such a thing as I am doing now—without the cursive handwriting and sloppy penmanship—without the teardrops that blur the ink (although I promise you, the keyboard of my laptop is definitely soaked). But I’m doing it. I’m typing my condolences. In my defense, modern technology makes it so much easier to compose my thoughts, edit them, and make them more coherent.</div>
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Andrew was a student in my sixth grade language arts class at Duluth Middle School. It was my first year teaching middle school. Ever. I was much younger, much more optimistic, and much more passionate about my career when I taught your son. Previously, I worked in marketing, mostly in Las Vegas. I was a copywriter and advertising coordinator. I liked my job but I knew it was an empty promise. I wanted to be more like my mother—I wanted to be a teacher. I left my demanding job at Boyd Gaming and took a lowly paying position at a Catholic School to pursue my Master’s Degree. At the time, this little office job was more convenient and conducive to what I ultimately wanted. And then somehow, by the Grace of God, (and a newspaper advertisement in the Chicago Tribune), I learned about Gwinnett County Public Schools. After graduating, I packed my bags and started over. </div>
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That’s when I met Andrew. This is where I pause and struggle with my words. Maybe they won’t be articulate or meaningful. But they are true. I remember Andrew’s freckles and his moppy hair. I remember how easily he blushed when I teased him. He was very quiet mostly. Almost solemn. He was the kind of boy that had a story, but nobody knew what it was. On the outside, Andrew was the quintessential All-American boy. Andrew was handsome, rugged, athletic. He was a good student. He was popular and loved by his classmates, yet I always sensed there was something more. Maybe he was wise beyond his years. I will never know.</div>
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Then Andrew became a stranger to me. I say this both lovingly and jokingly. I struggle with my words even more now—trying to remember something that is actually so fresh in my mind. On social media, I asked former students to help me move my classroom when I learned that I would be transitioning from sixth grade to seventh grade at Duluth Middle School. The girls from Andrew’s class were excited! I would provide them with lunch (pizza and pop) and then we would spend some time together. I never heard from Andrew or even expected him. And then he showed up.</div>
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And this is how it went: I saw a big, strong man walking through the halls of Duluth Middle School. I asked him if he was lost. He said, “Ms. Opalka, it’s me. Andrew Carson.” I couldn’t believe it. Andrew was unrecognizable. Ironically, that’s how I remember him. A dichotomy. A young, rosy faced boy all grown-up. Lifting furniture. Helping. Moving. A deep voice. Funny. Sweet. Still quiet. He was a gentleman. And that’s it. My last interaction with him. Quick. Casual. We ate our pizza and went about separate ways. And that was that. </div>
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And now is now. Life toys with us, I suppose. Again, I apologize that it’s taken me so long to write this, to contact you personally. As a teacher who truly loves her students, Andrew will always be in my heart. You and your family will always be in my prayers. Best wishes.</div>
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With great care and comfort, </div>
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Susie </div>
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Lorihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10461927633184008180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7739104311231236218.post-44822318005624619802016-08-27T17:48:00.000-07:002016-08-27T17:48:35.390-07:00Birth Month - Day 27If you've ever had the pleasure of spending the night with Andrew, chances are you saw him sleepwalking. Andrew was a sleepwalker for as far back as I can remember. When he was around 5 he would sleeprun - screaming that Matt was after him and he needed to hide. That also happened occasionally when he was awake. He would also say amusing things that made no sense like, "What about the horses?". Other times he would pick at stains on the carpet thinking they were pieces of paper or something that needed to be thrown away.<br />
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Three of my most memorable sleepwalking stories of Andrew are:<br />
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1) Matt had some friends over, specifically to watch Andrew sleepwalk. They even armed themselves with weapons in case Andrew tried to attack them - of course an attack never happened, but the boys had a good laugh.<br />
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2) Andrew ran outside and when Matt went to retrieve him, Andrew took off down the street. I had to coax him back inside. No idea what made him run outside. Matt can actually tell those two stories better.<br />
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3) One night, after everyone had gone to bed, Andrew bolted down the stairs and out the front door. The pounding down the stairs woke me and when I heard the door opened I realized it was Andrew sleepwalking. By the time I got to the door, he was nowhere in sight. I grabbed my shoes and started walking the block. I found him down the street. He was completely groggy but I convinced him to walk back home. When I got him home I realized his feet were a little bloody from running through the yard and stepping on the sweet gum balls. I patched him up and put him back to bed. The next morning he had no recollection of the events but knew his feet hurt.<br />
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That was typical for Andrew's sleepwalking - he never remembered any of it and you could often get him talking about the wildest things. It was fun most of the time, but also scary when he ran out the door. Doctors never could tell me specifically what caused it, but always said he would likely outgrow it. He never did.Lorihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10461927633184008180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7739104311231236218.post-39428363923786824732016-08-26T06:24:00.000-07:002016-08-26T06:24:42.764-07:00Birth Month - Day 26Without question Lacrosse was Andrew's favorite sport to play (that didn't involve a controller). He only joined the high school team his junior year and while he was no superstar his enthusiasm was contagious. He came home from practices sweaty, stinky, and tired, but still excited about lacrosse. He met some great friends, mentors, and coaches while playing. I was able to make every game of his career - even the ones two hours away thanks to traffic. Natalia was also there, cheering him on, and of course was his plus one to the banquet, pictures below. Believe it or not, Andrew was excited about the banquet and actually wanted to dress up. This was a rare occasion since it meant he would not be able to wear the lacrosse style shorts he so loved. I miss his handsome face so much!<div>
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Lorihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10461927633184008180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7739104311231236218.post-39678980828222532242016-08-25T06:23:00.000-07:002016-08-25T06:23:05.680-07:00Birth Month - Day 25Today is my mom's 71st birthday. She used to joke that I gave her Matt for Christmas (he was born December 20, 1990) and Andrew for her 50th birthday. I wish that I had more pictures of my mom and Andrew together, but she was usually the one taking all the pictures so she is not in very many of them.<br />
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Andrew and my mom, "Nana", had a special relationship. He always wanted to go to her house because she had a pool, a lake, and playground in her subdivision. She also let him play in the flower beds and he even pooped in them like a dog, because he was too busy to come inside. He'd spend hours at her house on the computer playing games and they also baked a lot of cookies together - probably where he learned to bake them with love. And although he was only 12 at the time, Andrew spent many hours at her bedside when she entered hospice, even spending the night with me there.<br />
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So Happy Birthday to my mom and Happy Birth week to her and Andrew! I'm glad they have each other again!<br />
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<br />Lorihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10461927633184008180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7739104311231236218.post-83631753022302257852016-08-24T10:59:00.005-07:002016-08-24T11:00:19.664-07:00Birth Month - Day 24If you knew Andrew, then you know he could be incredibly persuasive when he wanted something. If it was something he could buy and you didn't get it for him (in the time frame he wanted), he'd find a way to get it himself. But if it is something he needed you to do, then his relentless negotiating skills were immediately engaged. Such was the case on Spring Break 2014, when he convinced me we needed to do the Slingshot together. This is a ride that literally shoots you into the air as if you were the rock in a slingshot. So, I was going to be propelled hundreds of feet in the air, secured with a roll bar like a car would have, attached to seat that was grounded with large rubber bands. I've had rubber bands snap when a pony tail was too tight, was I really going to trust them to hold my full weight? Yes, it took some convincing, but like always, Andrew talked me into it. Here we are waiting for the ride to begin.<br />
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To see our ride, try this link</div>
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<a href="https://www.facebook.com/lori.carson.334/videos/10154513832245355/">https://www.facebook.com/lori.carson.334/videos/10154513832245355/</a></div>
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Warning, it is not censored and I might have a said some bad words.</div>
Lorihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10461927633184008180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7739104311231236218.post-87779365245579030482016-08-23T08:42:00.000-07:002016-08-23T08:45:59.601-07:00Birth Month - Day 23Is anyone else like me in that the day after a birthday is such a let down? You realize you have to wait another 364 days for it to be all about you again. I'll have 364 more days until I dread another missed birthday. But on the flip side, Andrew will have had another 364 days in heaven - although there really is no measure of time there.<br />
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In searching through some old posts, I found this birthday note Andrew sent to Matt when Matt turned 21. <br />
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Now what you have to understand is that when these men were just boys I thought for sure one of them would kill the other (specifically Matt would pound Andrew into the ground). I still remember how mad Matt would get and Andrew could always push those buttons. They each knew how to instantly anger the other. Oh I prayed many days for them to get to the point they were friends instead of enemies. It happened shortly after Matt left for college. With him gone, Andrew was man of the house. When they didn't see each other every day, they appreciated each other when they did. They had new things to talk about, Andrew hanging on every college experience Matt told him about. Matt even had Andrew spend a weekend at the frat house - where Andrew won beer pong (and yes, he was playing with Gatorade). An easy win when you are the only one not drunk!<br />
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Anyway, I am so thankful they got to the point of being friends. They talked sports, politics, girls, and video games. They talked about future careers, what they would do with lottery winnings, what to get me for birthdays and Christmases. I'm also sure they talked about some things I don't want to know they talked about.<br />
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Bottom line, they were friends, fiercely loyal to each other despite the early years that seemed full of sheer hatred. So parents of boys or multiple children who fight - stay the course, remain strong, and remind them of how cool it will when they are adults and become friends.<br />
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Lorihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10461927633184008180noreply@blogger.com0