The first memory that came to her mind was watching me get punched by a super aggressive upperclassman in the bathroom of the local Pizza King. No joke. Carrie and I were new friends our freshman year in high school and she was spending the night with me. It’s a miracle she ever stuck around. But it wasn’t supposed to be this way.
Her life in Rush County was short-lived. She moved back to Wisconsin and left a huge hole in my heart. It seems strange to say that. Our connection had been brief. But we both knew something was different.
I got pregnant during our senior year. I was encouraged by a guidance counselor to simply take the GED and not attend classes. But her recommendation had the reverse effect on me. I became more determined than ever to figure this out and come out on top. I got married, attended class in the morning, went to work co-op in the afternoon, and fixed supper while doing homework in the evenings. I turned 18 in March, Brandon was born two days later, and I graduated in May with the rest of my class; but alone. It wasn’t supposed to be this way.
Sometime during that summer, Carrie came from Wisconsin to visit. She was the only friend who stayed in my life and she lived hours away. We didn’t even talk on the phone constantly (I’ve never liked talking on the phone). We would go significant lengths of time with no contact. Life was busy. But I always knew she was “my person” and I was hers. It was honestly the sweetest gift.
Over the next several years, I went to Wisconsin for her wedding. I married a second time; she was in that wedding. She moved to Vegas with her two oldest kids and also married a second time. Although she was in Indiana for family weddings and funerals, it rarely, if ever, worked for us to see each other. The trips were quick and intended for focused time with her family. I made a trip to Vegas and was able to see her pregnant with Mikie (#3) in 2008. It was always as if no time had passed. She was my person.
Exchanges of “happy birthday” and other random brief chats were the norm. But I was beyond thrilled when she texted to let me know she was coming to Indiana for a family wedding and would be staying extra days. We made a plan for me to pick her up, fix us supper, etc. My heart was bursting!
She had been in Indiana less than 24 hours. August 1, she got the call that changed her life forever. And I’m now sitting in Vegas beside my person, holding her hand while she sobs and watches hospital staff roll her 29-year-old daughter, Haely, down the hall. Haely was an organ donor, and Carrie doesn’t like “goodbyes”. God, it wasn’t supposed to be this way.