Surviving, Thriving, and Celebrating Life

Elaine’s Story

This story is not one I was sure I would ever be able to share, and it is not an easy one for me to tell, but it is important for so many reasons.  I hope that you will all read it knowing how difficult it is for me to write and how raw the emotions are as I sit here and type.  Elaine has granted me permission to tell her story from my perspective.  I hope that you will be gentle with the words I share, as this is not my story, it is hers.

July 15^thwas a REALLY big day for my family.

I checked out of a hotel early Monday morning and drove to a hospital where I got to see Elaine graduate from high school and then take her home with me for the first time in four months. Strangely enough, it was one of the best days I have ever had.

Her graduation was not the one that had been planned for in a giant stadium with thousands of people. Instead, we sat in a tiny gym with the fifty or so kids that attend the school there to watch as the graduating class of one had her long-awaited and hard-fought day of celebration.

She played in the band of four students, sang a solo, and gave her valedictorian speech, which was the perfect blend of inspiration and wit. The principal spoke and then gave Elaine her high school diploma. I cried like a baby. I was fine when I walked in the gym that day. But then I saw three giant posters on the wall that were signed by all of the students with wishes for good luck and messages of encouragement. The tears started, and they never stopped. She had made it, and this was a victory she desperately needed. And as I sat there with stubborn tears running determinedly down my face listening to Elaine’s angelic voice sing “Somewhere Over the Rainbow,” I reflected on the last four months and all that made this day so much more of a milestone for Elaine than just graduating from high school.

This painful journey that had begun for Elaine a few years ago became a crushing reality for our family on March 16th. I had taken my youngest daughter, Clara, to a movie. Elaine was supposed to be going to a party at a friend’s house, so it was an excellent time to get some one on one time with Clara.

As the previews began and we were settling into our popcorn and way too big sodas, Clara’s phone rang.  It was Elaine’s ex-boyfriend.  He told her that he had been getting some crazy text messages from Elaine and asked Clara to have me call her.

I left the movie theater and started calling her.  She didn’t answer, so I called back again and again, worried because she should be answering my call at her friend’s house.

Suddenly, she answered…crying. She told me she had wrecked the car and she was so sorry. I was annoyed. She shouldn’t have been driving; she was supposed to be at a party. She didn’t have her license and was two days from taking her test. This incident was going to ruin her ability to get her license on Monday. I didn’t even care about a fender bender or her driving into a ditch…or whatever had happened. I told her to tell me where she was, and she tried to give me directions, but I was not familiar with the area she was describing. Then someone pulled up on the scene, so I told Elaine to stay in the car and wait for me.

That’s when she told me she couldn’t get back in the car. What?? Confused, I asked her what she was doing outside the car? How bad was the accident that the door wouldn’t open?? She was crying, and I couldn’t understand so I told her to put the person on the phone so they could tell me where she was. I just needed to get there so I could take care of whatever had happened.

A woman got on the phone and told me the paramedics had arrived.  I asked her how Elaine got out of the car if she couldn’t get back in the car. That’s when she told me Elaine had been thrown from the vehicle.  

My head was swirling…I couldn’t think clearly.  I was driving with one purpose.  To get to my child.  I had no idea if she was hurt or how badly.  All I could think was, please God, don’t let her die.  I can’t lose someone else.

I turned onto the wrong road, but I could see all the fire trucks and ambulances across a large field…and there was a lot of lights.  This did nothing to assuage my worst fears.  Poor Clara sat quietly in the passenger seat…just along for yet another terrible ride with her mother panicking behind the wheel.

When I finally pulled up on the scene, I saw my vehicle fifty yards off the road completely mangled. I flew out of the car and ran towards the ambulance.

The police and firefighters wanted information about who I was, “JUST LET ME SEE MY DAUGHTER!!!” I shrieked at them.  It is rare that I completely lose my shit…this was one of those times.  Seeing the wisdom in not continuing to stand in my way, they let me briefly see her before leaving for the hospital.

I stayed to talk to the police and make arrangements for a tow truck.

She had driven off the road, through a power pole at about fifty miles an hour, rolled three times, and had been ejected through the sunroof, because she was not wearing her seatbelt. She was woken from unconsciousness by her Apple watch buzzing on her wrist incessantly from her mother calling her repeatedly.  She had then walked barefoot across live power lines to retrieve her phone from the car, and again to walk back out to the road.

“She’s lucky to be alive,” they told me over and over.  Yes, she was.

Once the police said I could go, I hopped back in the car to drive to the hospital.

Trying to piece together what had happened, I asked Clara what the text message Elaine sent had said. Elaine’s ex-boyfriend had sent a screenshot so we were able to read the message.  Clara gave me the phone…and my heart broke.

It was clear this had not been an accident.  She had done this on purpose.  How could she?  After all we had suffered from her dad’s suicide…how could she put us through that again?  I just couldn’t understand.  I was angry, confused, and devastated.

To add to what was already such a tragedy, Clara had sat completely alone by the side of the road for an hour knowing that her sister had done this on purpose having to look at the crushed vehicle, not having any idea whether her sister would live or die.  How much trauma can one little girl be expected to endure?

It was all just so terrible. I couldn’t even begin to process; I just had to deal with what was in front of me and begin to clean up the mess that had been made…again.

Once we got to the hospital, I immediately alerted the doctor to what had happened so they could act to protect her.  I knew she needed help, and it wasn’t the help I could give her.  She was at the same hospital Jason had been transported to where they were going to release him immediately if the military had not stepped in to have him transported to a military facility for evaluation.  Because of this, I had zero faith that they would act in her best interest.

Not knowing the right course of action but knowing that there was no way I was going to allow her to be released without going to a hospital to be evaluated and get help, I called the one person I knew would help me.  The Shirt.  He was the person I called when I desperately needed help for my husband, and he had shown up in a big way and did everything in his power to help Jason. He has retired from the military now, but in my heart, he will always be the Shirt…i.e., hero.

Not only did he offer helpful advice, but he also drove to the hospital to be with us, and he helped continuously through all that followed.  

I took Clara to the neighbor’s house for the night, and she was able to stay there so I could stay with Elaine.  The day after the accident, they were able to place her in a stabilization facility where they could evaluate her and keep her safe while everyone decided on the next step.

The evaluation revealed she had been suffering from severe depression and anxiety. The stress of the last few weeks of high school, losing a relationship, the prospect of college coming up quickly, and her dad’s absence during such a critical time in her life had all piled up, and she was unable to deal with all that was required of her in a broken mental state.  I knew she had been stressed out, but she had hidden the severity of what she was dealing with, and I had no idea she was in trouble.  She didn’t want to die; she just wanted everything to stop.

She stayed in the stabilization facility for thirteen days.  Everyone, even the insurance, agreed that inpatient residential care was the only appropriate course of action.  Driving your car through a pole isn’t a cry for help; it is a show stopper.

And yet, somehow, Elaine had walked away from that accident which should have taken her life. As I sat with my neighbors for a few minutes in the days following the crash, one neighbor said to me, “Her dad protected her.” I believe he was right. There is no logical explanation as to how or why she went through what she did and sustained only two tiny cuts from flying glass with no other marks on her body. Not one bruise. Not one sore muscle. No injuries or burns from the airbags that all deployed on impact. Nothing. I have seen up close what a person’s face looks like when an airbag deploys on impact. There was no indication on Elaine’s face that she had encountered an airbag. She was ejected from the sunroof as it shattered. I have seen firsthand what happens to a person when they land on their head during a collision. There is no indication that Elaine sustained any impact. My vehicle was covered in burn marks from the power lines wrapping around the spiraling car as they crashed down. She did not have a single burn on her body. She is a legitimate walking miracle, and I know that she was protected from harm on the side of the road that night. For which I am beyond grateful.

What she chooses to do with that miracle is up to her.

Elaine was transported to a residential facility where she was able to receive medication and intensive therapy for three and a half months.  As part of her treatment, we had to do weekly family sessions as well. This experience has been painful and difficult.  But it has also been life-changing.

I have struggled as a parent to deal with all that I have been given. I have made mistakes. But I have always done my best. I often struggle with other people’s opinions of how I should parent, or my perception of what other people expect from me. Going through this has been life-changing in that I DO NOT care what ANYONE else thinks of what I do with my kids anymore. I know some will look at my kids or how my family operates and believe that I should do things differently. The gift of this experience is that I no longer even consider other people’s judgment …it does not matter.

The one thing I have learned is that there is NOTHING that matters more than having my children be emotionally healthy. What I want for them is of no consequence. They are the masters of their own destinies. My only job is to love and accept them and to be there for them when they need support and when they are seeking guidance. Nothing else matters. What grades they get, whether or not they go to college, the jobs they have, where they live, how they live, what they look like…none of that matters if they’re dead, so WHY should any of that ever matter when they are alive?? The answer is simple; it doesn’t.

As mothers, we love our children unconditionally in our hearts, but often what comes out of our mouths does not sound like love. As mothers, we often operate under a misguided notion of who our children are, and we make decisions based on who we want our children to be. I made that mistake, but I won’t be that parent ever again. The price is far too steep. Who I want them to be is a dream world that does not exist, it never did. They are each unique people with desires and goals for their lives. I will seek to know them for who they are and love and support them in living their own authentic lives, never acting in a way that makes them feel they have to hide their true identities from me to make me happy, but rather foster relationships with them that allow them to share with me their goals and their dreams and who they are on the inside. More importantly, to share with me when they are struggling, knowing without a doubt that I will ALWAYS be there for them without judgment. That is unconditional love, which they will always have from their mother.

There is a quote that I love that has become our family motto.  “Not everything happens for a reason, but it is possible to find meaning in everything.”  

 Clara did not have cancer for a reason.  Jordan did not have autism for a reason.  I did not develop a heart condition for a reason.  Jason did not die for a reason. I could go on, but the point is that I have found meaning in every single one of those things, and I have found meaning in this.  Our lives are forever changed by the trials we have faced and the loss we have endured, but we have grown through all of it.

Mental health issues carry an ugly stigma.  That’s the reality.

Here’s another reality, mental health issues should have NO more of a stigma attached to them than having cancer.  A person can no more control whether or not they have mental health issues than they can control whether or not they develop cancer. I know that from personal experience because my family has had both.  

I have a child who is a cancer survivor and a child who is a suicide survivor. They are both lucky to be alive and have an equal chance of living long and healthy lives. One is not worse than the other; one is not more within our control than the other. But only one is looked upon as weakness. THAT HAS TO CHANGE!

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Going through this, I said nothing to anyone outside of our family and close friends because I respect my daughter’s privacy and her right to tell her own story her way. Coming out of the hospital, she didn’t want anyone to know who didn’t already know.  But hiding that she was sick continues to foster the stigma. Hiding behind what happened creates the stigma.

She decided to be honest about what happened because it is time to end the stigma. It is time to change the conversation. Mental illness is real, no one chooses it, but it is treatable. Elaine has to fight for her mental health. Anxiety and depression will likely always be part of her story, but they do not define who she is. Elaine is a smart, articulate, extraordinary, talented young woman embarking on an exciting journey into her adult life. She is working hard to be healthy. Just like a cancer patient would never skip chemo treatments, or miss their daily life-saving meds, she cannot skip therapy or miss her daily meds. They are her key to survival, and she wants to live. I am exceptionally proud of who she is and how hard she has worked to be where she is today. I am excited for what the future holds for her, but most importantly, I will be here for her every step of the way, to guide her, celebrate with her, and support her through the hard times.

Today, Elaine turned eighteen years old.  When I think how close I came to never having this day to celebrate with her, the tears come hot and fierce.  When I think of all the parents I know who have lost a child to suicide, and the fact that they will never be able to celebrate another birthday with their child, my heart breaks for them.  Never again will I take for granted the gift of having my child here with me where I can see her smile and celebrate her life.  

Friends, life is so very fragile, and it can shatter in an instant.  Cherish every moment, and look for meaning in the difficult times, for we have no promise of tomorrow.