Kyla McCullough

Monday, January 11, 2010

In Kora's Words

You have been a great big sis to me and it was your time to go but i was all right with that because God had a good plan for you.
I love you big sis, Kora

Thursday, November 19, 2009

November 22, 1997

Depression is at it's all time high. Not sure why this year is any different from all the other years I've missed Kyla's birthday. I miss her no less, I ache for her just the same, and the pain is still as fresh as the day she left. I'm not sure why my stomach is so upset that I could get sick, not sure why this feeling wont subside for just a moment.... long enough for me to breathe. The tears wont go away, the exhaustion is fierce with my loss of appetite in full affect. Yes, this year is different.

Kyla would be turning 12 on Sunday. She would be 12!! Although she is not here with me, I still feel like a mother of three with a 12 year old, 8 year old, and 5 year old. I am a mother of a sixth grader, third grader, and a kindergartner. I can't seem to get past the fact that my door wont open and have Kyla on the other side. Some people may feel as if I'm going insane, I'm freaking out, why can't I get past it? Will my life always hold this much pain, will I always have this black cloud over me that allows the sun to only beam through every now and again? I am trying to allow myself this week of insanity, allow it to pass through and not stop it. I in no means want pity, never have.... it's just really really hard.

I can see her in my mind and when I do... I see her taller, with longer hair, tan skinned, and beautiful as ever. She is accomplishing all she is supposed to and is helping others around her succeed as she is. Kyla is loving her grandparents, cousins, and friends. She is making her Great Grandpa Rudy play through the forest instead of cutting it down. :) She is playing sports and is waiting for Kora to come so she can pass her the ball; Kyla is dancing and can't wait to bust a move with Bree. I see her playing instruments but her favorite are the drums and is wondering when dad can sit next to her and rock out with her..... and she is saving her favorite book to read to her mom, the moment she arrives. But most of all, I see her eating lunch, with the biggest lion in Heaven!

When she was here with me, she was not only my daughter but my friend who knew me well. I knew what to expect with her and she knew of me. Her and I worked like clock work, she taught me and I taught her. I think that happens when a person has children so young, you grow up together. She drove me nuts but I'm pretty sure I did the same to her. :) Kyla always knew what she wanted, and never allowed anyone to tell her different, although some tried. Some just didn't get who Kyla was. But those who were lucky enough to see her and understand who she was and what she represented..... they couldn't help but love her.

November 22, 1997..... was the day my life changed for the better, it was the day that my eyes truly opened for the first time in my life. And I truly feel blessed to have been there when she arrived into this world, and to have been there when she left it.... what an honor.

Happy birthday Big K.... thinking of you always with every breath I take. Have a wonderful 12th birthday.... and expect more balloons soon, that closet must be getting pretty full! I love you.

Thursday, August 13, 2009

A Family Again

The weekend has come and gone, it was a bitter sweet weekend. Of course, it was the anniversary of Kyla's Heavenly birthday, it was a weekend full of sadness, and it was a weekend that brought us a lot of thought wondering where God wants us to go in our lives.

Bret had a tournament this weekend for our church's league. It was a very interesting tournament... on the 8th, which was the saddest day for us, he played three games. Bret doesn't play sports half way, if he's going to play a sport he's going to go all out. This last weekend was the same way, sliding, diving, hitting, pushing, throwing, and shouting were all a part of his play. On Saturday he hurt his leg so bad that when it came time to sleep that night, he had to take some meds. and sleep on the couch... the sheets on the bed hurt too bad. Sunday came around and I woke with thanks that the 8th passed without too much sadness. Bret had to leave right after church to get to the next game... his team had one game to play and if they won they would play two more games for the championship. Our team was doing awesome and Bret, along with the rest of the team, was playing his A game. It was so exciting to see, and to watch as they were making their way to the championship game. We were two outs away from the big game when Bret, playing at short stop, ran into another player who was playing in left field... both going for the same pop up.

I think God was protecting the girls and I because at that moment they needed crackers. So we were looking for which kind they would want, in the cooler when we hear the worst cracking sound and someone yelling. I looked up and saw Bret on the ground with the entire team rushing to him and the other player. I waited for just a few seconds, because just an inning before, Bret slid into second base and he took a bit longer to get up, then normal. And when he came back to the bench, I told him, "If you would had been on the ground for a few seconds longer, I would have totally embarrassed you and been out on the field... don't do that anymore!" We laughed and as he spit dirt out of his mouth, he patted me on the shoulder and said, "I'm okay honey, it was a great slide!" I just rolled my eyes.

So the few seconds I waited by the fence, I really tried to remind myself that he was fine, yet he was just lying there. So, for risk of embarrassment by Bret having his wife come out on the field to see if he's okay... I booked it! Once I got to him, he wasn't speaking, it was more like mumbling... and I swear all I could think of was Kyla and what I had to do for her when she was in need. I started reminding him to breathe, and started to rub his back... thinking if he got the wind knocked out of him rubbing his back may help him breathe easier. I kept an eye on the other player who was rocking on the ground in pain, and I made sure my girls were behind me, Bret's face was bloody and started to swell. Thankfully someone from the other team started to talk with the girls, so they would be distracted.

Once Bret spoke, his first words were, "I'm okay... Brettie, I'm okay!" And once I heard those words the tears fell. I was so relived that he was talking and reached for my hand. It was a great feeling and made the worry leave, and once the tears were gone, my brain went into a different place. My next priority was the girls, and how I can get them home... I knew this must be tough on them to see daddy on the ground not moving much. Someone had called 911 and soon there would be an even bigger scene for them to witness. Once I got them taken care of, I had them come over to Bret so they could talk with him and see that he's okay, even though he was still lying on the ground. They were visibly upset and it was another opportunity for me to remember Kora's reaction to Kyla in the hospital. Kora had that same look and the same tears and I didn't know how to tell her that this wasn't the same. That daddy had gotten hurt, but that it wasn't the same hurt as Kyla. That he's going to the hospital but that he's going to be coming home. It was a very difficult thing to try and deal with in the short amount of time we had.

Bret got in the ambulance, and with God being with us, He gave us a new church, with a new team who didn't know us well, but who took our kids and was with them as if they were their own. The feeling of family at that church is something that I haven't felt in a long time. And speaking of family, as I'm in the ambulance with Bret to make sure he's doing okay as well as going over all of his information, I see my dad walk past the window. I open the door for him, and that's when he's able to see Bret with the bandage over his head and on the gurney.... he reached for Bret's hand and I think that's all Bret needed.

Once I said goodbye to the girls and reassured them that dad was alright, and Bree's tears finally stopped, I made my way to the hospital. While I was in the car, not only was I making the phone calls to the people we had plans with that night, and Bret's family, I went to Kyla. I started praying and asking God to make this situation the best possible outcome and not the worst. The EMT's were throwing some pretty scary words out to me... "skull fracture", "fluid in the brain", and "eye sight being affected". With every line in my prayer I was thinking of the other girl who was taken to the hospital as well.

In the past I have relied heavily on prayer, the heaviest I ever had and knew that God would hear my prayers and answer them positively. Well, since the answer He gave me was a "NO!" my faith in Him has faltered. I wondered why I should rely so heavily on Him if all he's going to do is take things away from me. So in the car... I didn't ask Him to make Bret better by the time I saw him, and I didn't make any "deals" with Him. I just asked simply for "both people in this situation to be alright and that they would heal from the injuries they have inquired today." When I pulled the curtain back and saw Bret laying on the bed, in the ER, all dirty from the slide he did at second and his cleats still on his feet... the relief hit me. I couldn't help but smile and hugged him right away. I examined him, as I did with Kyla, and decided to go to his feet, as I did with Kyla. That last night with Kyla I walked into the room and saw what a difficult time she was having and I went to her feet and started to rub them... so I took Bret's shoes off, put them to the side on the floor and rubbed the tops of them... dirty and all.

The night ended with the girls sleeping soundly in their beds, my mom had done my dishes, so all I had to do was feed the dogs and turn out the lights, and as I walked into our room, there was Bret on the bed. He was banged up, sore, and bloody... but he was at home, we were a family again, and God had answered my prayer, finally, with a.... "yes".

Sunday, May 17, 2009

Random Thoughts

It may be too much... too much to handle. Lately in the last day or so I have felt overwhelmed by it all. I have this feeling in the pit of my stomach... hard to breathe. Memories... guilt... it all plays in my head until I cannot think clearly. Thought process is messed with so much it makes me feel inadequate. I think losing a child is like being on drugs. It's hidden, you think of nothing else, and you try to put on a happy face when all you want to do it break down and cry. You get irritable when you realize you can't get what you want and you try to lead a normal life, even though you know you can't because of this addiction. People say that drugs melt your brain... well I think losing a child does more damage to your brain than the most powerful drug. Thoughts can't stay in your head for long, you mean to do things but don't because you can't remember what you wanted to do. Talking about someone else's life is almost impossible, and it's difficult to even ask, "How are you doing today? What is going on with your kids?" It is work to ask these things, it doesn't come natural, mostly because you are so consumed by your continued grief... other things don't even seem to matter. Trying to become someone new, someone who you know needs to live, a person who never seems to see the light of day. The new Brettie who is broken, torn down, and fragile, needs to find a way to live a life of the old Brettie. However, the new Brettie is losing, she can't seem to find the balance between carefree living and grief stricken. How can someone find that balance? Especially if the grief is like a drug? It's not like I can go to rehab and all will be fixed. There seems to be no end to this pain, yes some days it is less, yes I can laugh with friends, yes I can spend time with my children and smile.

I have been feeling a lot of sorrow the last few days, the pit in my stomach is giving me no rest. And although this may sound a little off, I have enjoyed these feelings. I go through most of my days being numb, I think it's my body's way of allowing me to get out of bed in the morning... but when I feel sad, emotional, and weak... I can actually feel those emotions, in their entirety. If you have never been through such heartache that you've never been numb, then you wont understand what I'm saying. But if you have had a tragedy in your life, that left you so low and in so much pain, that the only way you could go about your day is to become numb.... you will completely understand my words. It feels good to feel something, even if it is pain and sorrow.

We are getting ready for a family vacation, which we have not done since Kyla has left us. Sure we've been to the beach over night, or up to Seattle for the weekend... but we haven't done a big family trip for almost four years. Gosh... four years... Anyway, it turns out the place we are going is Disneyland, although the girls think we are going camping. The last time we were at the wonderful world of Disney, was the last family trip we had, through Make-A-Wish. Whew... I can't even imagine what the trip will bring as far as memories, and emotions. Ups and downs will be a part of it, I'm sure, as well as new memories clashing with the old.