Tragedy Strikes, Love Prevails

I’ve been struggling to find the appropriate words for this next post. This blog focus is on my journey through motherhood, but also a timeline of my life so I feel this life changing event deserves to be recorded. It was two Wednesday’s ago on April 22^nd when the kiddos and myself were enjoying Earth Day at a nearby botanical garden with a friend. It was a really great day, getting back into a normal routine after all of our visitors. [Confession: I actually didn't know it was Earth Day until mid-morning, but then I felt super hip and cool upon realization that my outdoor activity was planned on that day.]  It was full of adventure, laughter, and exploration in nature. We were finishing up our day with a picnic at the park when I received several calls in a row from my mom. I ignored her call the first two times, with the intention of calling her back after finishing with our friends. Then after the third repetitive call I figured it must be important and I answered. Her first words were “Chad is not okay.” My heart sank and somehow I knew the news that would come next. My friend was wonderful in keeping the kids occupied while I sat there completely frozen, absorbing the information I had just been given. My mind couldn’t process it. I felt like my whole body was shaking, as flashbacks of the day I lost my best friend Laura rushed through my body. I was completely crushed.

As many of my blog readers already know, Chad is my uncle. He has been my uncle throughout my childhood when I told him his teeth were yellow, my teenage rebellion when I robbed vodka from his cupboards, and he was still my uncle as I emerged into adulthood and became an employee at his law firm. I respect him. I love him. He has taught me a tremendous amount about life, love, and law. I will forever cherish the memories I have of him. He is married to my ultimate role-model, idol, and confidant --- my aunt Kari. He is the father to my three beautiful cousins --- Madison, Chloe, & Libby. These people are my family. I love them to my core and it’s been absolutely heart wrenching watching them maneuver through this devastating time.

After receiving the news, my thoughts jumbled back and forth about going to Idaho. I wanted to be there. I needed to be there. I felt so detached being so far away in Texas. I considered my own schedule and the needs of my own little family. Then something just clicked. My reasons for any sort of delay to leave as soon as possible were irrelevant. I’m going to miss my Uncle Chad a lot, but we will return to Texas and eventually life for my little family will feel normal again. We will be okay. Then I thought of my aunt and cousins. Their lives will never be the same. They will have to rediscover what “normal” means. The only thing that mattered in that moment was them and I needed to be there. I booked my flight, along with the kiddos, to arrive to Idaho on Friday. I’m so appreciative of Kirk’s support in making this possible. He really helped me to see the bigger picture.

The past ten days have seemed like a blur. The amount of love and support surrounding the Campos family has been unbelievable. I am honored to call these people my family. I’ve experienced a roller-coaster of emotions since my arrival, replaying every possible past and future scenario in my head. I’ve done a lot of thinking, wondering, and questioning so many aspects of life. It may never make sense and I have to accept that it doesn’t have to. It’s a painful reminder that time is guaranteed to no one in this life, and for that wisdom I am grateful.  

I knew I could offer a tremendous amount of support by being present for my aunt and cousins during this time. It didn’t occur to me that my children could also provide so much comfort, if not more so than myself. They have been such an innocent source of positivity for my grieving family and I adore them for it. I avoided the subject with Lyla in the beginning, unsure how to explain the situation to a three year old. But when her persistent curiosity about my sadness continued, I decided to tell her what happened in the simplest terms possible. I tend to take the honest route and not sugar coat things when it comes to this parenting gig, hopefully it works out for me. Anyway, she seemed to comprehend and expressed sympathy, yet she was overall unaffected. I wouldn’t expect anything more from a three year old. Then there was a moment when my youngest cousin, Libby, was buckling Lyla into her car seat. Lyla looked Libby in the eyes and stated, “I’m sorry you don’t have a daddy anymore.” This ignited a new wave of tears in my cousin and as the tears fell down her cheeks, Lyla hugged Libby's arm tightly. This very special moment was like a dart gun to my heart. Lyla's spirit continues to amaze me.

Chad was a wonderful human being. He was incredibly thoughtful. caring. supportive. funny. clever. intelligent. He was passionate about life and loved effortlessly. The world shines a little less bright without his presence. But you know what, Chad isn’t gone at all. His love is still all around us. And I know that his love will continue to strengthen my aunt and cousins in the dark days that lie ahead. So whether you pray, meditate, or wish upon stars --- please please please keep them in your thoughts.