The Light

A daughter is a little girl who grows up to be a friend~


The last time I saw Brittany was a year ago...March 2010...4 months before her accident. She had come down to see us in Panama City Beach over her Spring Break. How was I to know that would be the last time I would see her smile? See her beautiful blue eyes? Cuddle with her as we laughed over some silly movie? And how was I to know it would be the last time I would hold her in my arms? Would I have done anything differently? Did I say something I shouldn't have or neglected to say something I should have? Did she truly know with all of her heart how much I missed seeing her everyday? How deeply and unconditionally I love her? I drive myself crazy sometimes reliving that visit...every word...every touch...every second I was with her. Was she happy?

I have survived two more of my "reminder" dates. Eight months ago on March 13, Brittany died...and 8 months ago yesterday I had to escort Brittany to her new "earthly home." As always, I made my trip to Effingham so I could sit with my little girl. The night of the 12th, I decided to drive out to where she is and just sit for a few minutes and tell her goodnight and that I would be back the next day...the 13th. Brittany's area is surrounded by a beautiful handcrafted arbor and many solar lights, including a beautiful large cross. In short, she's tastefully "blinged" out. As I was driving however, I knew the lights wouldn't be on. The day had been too cloudy and there hadn't been any sunlight to power them. I was right. As I drove up the road near the entrance, I looked out my window and saw nothing but darkness. I felt sad, hopeless and dejected. Not one single light was on anywhere. It looked so forsaken. I pulled up next to Brittany and broke down. I screamed out her name...over and over again. I needed to say it...to hear it. I wanted her to hear it...to hear her mom call out for her. I told her I was frightened and angry. I told her how much I miss her and how much pain I'm in. I told her I was worried about her and begged her to please let me know she's ok. I screamed louder and louder. And then, in the complete darkness, her cross lit up like a beacon. In the complete darkness...her light shined. It stayed on for several seconds and then, like a light switch, it went off again. "I'm ok, Momma. I'm right here. Don't worry." That's what I believe she was saying to me with that lighted cross. Through the grace of God, He allowed Brittany to reach out to her hurting mother. And through my tears, I smiled...and rejoiced...thankful for the miracle...for the comforting embrace. 

My pain hasn't subsided...and I know it never will. But for that brief moment, my baby girl and I sat side by side...hand in hand...two hearts joined together once again.