Imaginatorium

I remember Curran best from my early years… his family lived in Seminole FL, not far from my grandparents in Bradenton. His mother was my mom’s best friend from high school and our families were incredibly close. In many ways, his family was our family… Curran and his sister Kelly were like cousins to Ry and I- they were always a part of our lives, even when they moved away.

In his teen years, Curran went through a very rebellious stage… and eventually got into drugs. He was one we prayed for a lot… and he eventually came clean- a prodigal Son.. His death was a surprise to us all- I can’t imagine the pain his parents, sister, and fiance are feeling (his two sons are too young to understand.) He was only 27.

Curran was one of those guys who knew who he was. From a young age, he loved cooking… so he became a chef. His hair always seemed to be dyed a different color and he was known for his mohawks (that’s what I remember most about him.) He was a quiet guy who only spoke when he wanted to; hated to be looked at; had a hard work ethic; loved his family, friends,, model planes, and building things. He was very intelligent and overcame some tough obsticles in his life. He had fun, yet was responsible… he loved his children dearly. He’s a person that few will be able to forget.

It hurts to know he’s gone, that a childhood sibling duo is no longer (it’s hard to imagine Kelly without Curran) but I pray that God lessens the pain of his family and brings them together through this. My mother and I are planning on attending the funeral this Friday. As much as I hate the circumstances, I am thankful for the opportunity to see loved ones from the past.

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Heather and her Jesus bear

Heather was only three when the Lord took her home. She would have turned 7 this year.

Although 4 years have passed since this beautiful little girl lost her fight to cancer, my heart still aches for her family- and a future that could have been. Her family saw her through almost two years of needles, tests, and chemo. I followed the updates almost daily, praying for a miracle… God, apparently, wanted her home.

Even today, I don’t know how to respond. My heart is torn with grief, yet I struggle to cry. A co-worker told me that crying is OK… all I want to do is run. Apparently, I felt the same way when I first found out.

I feel really numb. I tried running away for a bit- went to Dr Stevens’ house. It was nice hanging with them for a while. I also called up my friends in Detroit and talked to them. They were the ones that notified me about Heather. They are really upset about it all… I still don’t know how to feel. -My xanga, Aug 28, 2004

I don’t know why God allows children to die. I don’t know how He listens to the tears and pain of mothers and fathers who are not ready to let go of their little ones. If I were an outsider, I would scream “WHY” and succumb to the pain- but I’m not. I know that only in death can we truly live. Heather is no longer in pain, she no longer deals with needles and drugs. She is safe in the arms of Jesus- far from the terrors of this world. Her story has reached thousands of people, and it continues to impact her family daily as they turn to Christ for support. It is days like today where I find myself holding onto Him with all I have left.

“This is what it means to be held
How it feels, when the sacred is torn from your life
And you survive
This is what it is to be loved and to know
That the promise was that when everything fell
We’d be held”-Natalie Grant

Today marks the 10 year anniversary of Phil Hartman’s murder. I was 12 when it happened… I believe that was the year I started watching Newsradio, yet it took years before I realized Phil was gone. He lives on in reruns of The Simpsons and the many movies he had lent his voice to… which may be why it took so long for me to realize he was gone.

Whatever the case, Phil Hartman has always been one of my favorite comedians, so consider this posting a tribute to my fav comedian and my favorite tv show, which ended just one season after his passing.

I found out about this one on accident… and it crushed me all the same.

Mrs. MacQuaker was like a grandmother to me. She was the wife of Gordon MacQuaker- the founder of our chapter of the “I Have a Dream” foundation. My mom had worked for the foundation since 1998, so I spent lots of time hanging with Mrs. Mac and Suzzie as mom and Mac hashed out details and informed one another about the kids. She was a lover of chocolate and scotch, and a true hoot to talk to. She loved golf, her man, her dog, and her life. It was so hard to so see her towards the end… she had alzhimers and thought I was one of her grand daughters… or my mom… or whatever came to her mind. She had the hardest time understanding that her husband was gone, even at his funeral. When she saw him lying there, she underwent a transformation… she realized he was gone- for that moment.

In some ways, I think her alzheimers was a blessing at that time of her life… many of us thought she would go before Mac, but it was he who went “home” first. I think it would have killed her to fully realize that the love of her life was gone- and the same for him.

The two of them were such a blessing in my life… and I hope to never forget them.

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I am struggling to write a kind note about Veronica. She was our neighbor for as long as we’ve lived in Boynton (11 years?), but I had never actually met her until about 2 months before her death. She was the wife of Bill Riley, the neighbor who had committed suicide a couple years ago.

Seeing Veronica as she was in December really opened my eyes to the need of Christ in everyone’s lives. She denied him, but I think He could have saved her had she turned to Him. She was lonely and scared, but she chose alcohol over God. I really wish things could have turned out differently for her… she could have found a new husband and a new faith- she could have had a future. Instead, she drank herself to death…

I wish we could have done more.

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