Scott

(a copy of my post on my blog)

13 years ago, at about 6:35pm, Scott Shields (after a touch of drinking) made the decision to blow a stop sign while driving quite fast. He t-boned a car and hurt my youngest sister, almost killed my father, and killed my mom. And my life became hooked in a weird way to this guy that I've never met. We share this day.

To have a moment of positivity on this day, she had missed her dad for 27 years...she had missed her son for 29 years...and she had missed her mom for 7 years...and she doesn't have to miss them anymore. And we have one of the hardest working guardian angels fighting on our behalf.

There. That was my moment.

Left behind were 4 older sisters. Who lost their baby sister. And what a baby sister she was. To say that she could make her sisters smile and laugh is an understatement.

Left behind were 3 sisters-in-law...whom were her sisters. Period.

Left behind were nieces and nephews. And there's no aunt like Aunt Jan.

Left behind were countless friends and neighbors who packed the chapel and cultural hall for her funeral. Because my mom was the person who welcomed everyone to the neighborhood. And she meant it. And my mom was an Avon lady extraordinaire...she didn't do it for the money...she did it for the visiting. And my mom was the bestest crossing guard that ever worked that corner...because she loved those kids and yelled at speeders.

Left behind was my dad. Who has been changed. He has had a headache since that accident. He had injuries that changed how he functioned on a day-to-day basis. He had to retire. He was left to be a single parent when it was his partner who had done the bulk of the parenting up to then.

Left behind was my youngest sister. And although we all lost our mom, she got the shortest end of the stick. She was 11. She was stuck in that car with our parents. She alone has to live with memories of being inches away from her mom...who was dead...and her dad, who she didn't know if he was dead. And being trapped there. And let's face it, at 11, she was still a baby. She has those memories. She had those nightmares. She had the glass in her head that may still be working it's way out. She had the broken bone. She was there and she's the only one with the memories of that horrific time.

Left behind were 9 children total. Who lost the biggest and strongest and best cheerleader that a kiddo could ever want or imagine. I'll not speak for my siblings about being changed, but that moment on the stairs changed me. I fought it for a few years before I finally got it through my thick skull that I was a different person now...accept it. I have a hole in my heart and soul that won't be filled until I see her again. I am a changed person. My relationships with my siblings changed...our mom is gone...that changes our relationship with the world.

Left behind are 34 grandchildren (and one on the way). Most of whom don't know for themselves that amazing cheerleader that they have for a Grandma Taylor. That's just wrong.

Left behind are 11 great-grandchildren (and one on the way). All these little ones don't know her. That's just wrong.

Left behind are in-laws...only 2 of them knew my mom. Only two of them can attest to the mother-in-law that they had here.

Today is my black day. Today is the anniversary of when my life was shoved off it's axis. When we lost that crazy goofy lady who was seriously, one of the most unselfish people that I have ever met.

She left big shoes to fill. She left a great example. She wasn't perfect, but dang it all, she did what she was supposed to do here. She did her best. All the time.

And she left this earth at the young age of 58...her life was us, and given the choice, I know she wouldn't have left us so soon.

But she did.

Because of Scott Shields' stupid stupid decisions.

I hope you're remembering her today Scott.

I hope you are.