Easter is tough this year.

Tomorrow is Easter.. A day for amazing and spectacular church services, new outfits, egg hunt extravaganzas , family time and of course lots of chocolate eggs and bunnies.

For me its about something different..Its about missing my parents.. 12 years ago tomorrow, I lost my father and 3 days after that on April 27th I lost my mother too. April has always been a rough month for me. I have always tried to breeze through this month and wish it away. I was 20 when I lost them both. I was married with an infant and though I was gone from home, I was still very close to my family. I was raised an only child and we were a very close-knit family. My mother could not have children and she always dreamed of having a houseful of babies.. When I was born, my mother got her chance to raise the child she had always wanted and when I was 5 months old, they adopted me and brought me home. They always told me I was adopted and was introduced to my BM (birth mother) when I was a young child. I think looking back now that it had to be hard for my mom especially because she had to worry that I would have feelings of wanting to know what my life would be like if I had stayed with my BM. She still encouraged me to have a relationship with my BM. It was easy to have contact with that part of my life because my BM and my mom were sisters. My parents sheltered me from lots of life's issues and you could tell that they took their role in raising me with great pride.

I always knew they were there for me, no matter what crazy thing I did as a teenager. They always looked at me as a blessing and I felt that my whole childhood. I miss them terribly now, I want to be able to pick up the phone and call them. I want them to see my oldest (the only one they ever knew) I want them to meet Emma and hold Riley Claire. I want them to hold me too. I would love to sit in my daddy's lap and just listen to him breathe. To smell them again would be ideal. I just miss them in all ways.

Last week, I found a box that contained old videos. I had not watched them in probably 10 years. I thought I had lost them in my move from my divorce. I could have sat and watched them for hours. It was so comforting to hear their voices. One of the tapes had been damaged over the years and the video rolled where the picture was almost unwatchable. The audio was still good though and I remember thinking if this was all I had was the sound of their voices, that was fine with me. I wish I could talk to them. I wish I could spend holidays with them. I miss them more and more. Although it is easier now that such time has passed. I have lived almost my entire adult life without them, it is still hard. There are times when I need their advice, I need time with them. I want them to see where I am now and where I ended up. I think they would be proud of how my family has grown.

While looking through the box, I found a memory book I made with lots of pictures of my parents. I also found something I wrote so that I would always have the memories of those last days with them. Here it is, written a few months after they passed away.

In Memory of J.C. & Susie Salters

On April 11th, 1999, my life changed drastically. I will never forget the phone call that changed my life forever. My parents had been in an accident on the way to my house. We had a tradition on Sunday's that we visited my parent's home on Sundays and this particular Sunday, I didn't feel like getting out of the house, so I asked them to come to mine. When I hung up the phone, the next few minutes were a blur. I prayed the whole way to the hospital that they were wrong. Then as I had to pass the scene of the accident, I just prayed they would be alive when I got there. The Lord answered my prayer that day, when we got there, they were holding on with all they had. I'll never forget the feeling I had as I walked through the hospital as though i was in slow motion. They told me that they were both critical, but stable. I broke down right there in front of everyone. I could not believe my Mom and Dad could be hurt and that there was a chance that the sounds of their voices might never be heard again. The next few days were even more of a blur. I spend day and night in the SICU waiting room, bathing in the sink in the wee hours of the morning, so that no one would walk in on me. My mom came in and out of sedation those first few days and my father stayed unresponsive. The 1st time that I was able to communicate with my mom, (She could not speak because she was on a ventilator) she wrote my dad's name in my hand and wanted to know where he was. It broke my heart to see all the pain that she was in and for her she was still mainly concerned about my dad. I told her that he was very sick, but under the circumstances, he was doing well. (I might have fibbed a little on that one). Days later when my dad woke up, I told him my mom was fighting like champ just 9 doors down and he just smiled, because he knew she was being herself, always strong and quick to take care of everyone else. The days dragged on until 11 days after the accident, things took an awful turn for the worse. I went in to see my parents like I always did at the 5:30 visiting time and that would be the last time I ever saw a smile on his face. I had taken a picture of my daughter Brooke in and told him, he better get up and get to feeling better because she wanted to come to their house and spend the night. He smiled the biggest grin and I kissed him good-bye till the next visiting time. Little did I know that would be our last "conversation". The doctors pulled me in a little while after I left and told me that my dad had suffered from a heart attack and was gone for 20 minutes before they could revive him. They were going to run some tests to see if there was any brain activity but it didn't look good. I remember when they did the first test, they told us no brain activity was found. I asked for another, i remember telling them I would pay out of pocket right there, I didn't know how much this test was and didn't care. I just needed another one to be sure. They did 2 more EEGs and still nothing. I tried to regain myself and figure out what decision was right, and what he would want himself. I needed my mother, she needed to be the one to make this decision, but it was just me at 20 years old. After 2 days, I finally made the decision to let him go, after much thought and consideration. I went in and talked to him before they turned off the machines and I told him he had fought long enough and it was time to go and be with the Lord. I'll never forget telling him to go into the light, that the light had peace and comfort and he would be happy there. I walked out of that room and went straight to my mother's room and stayed with her while they turned off his machines. I couldn't stay in there, I needed to be with my mom. She was in a medically induced coma at this point and I needed to just be with her. The nurses came to tell me he went peacefully and I remember thinking that I would wake up from this nightmare and it would all be over.

The next couple of days were getting worse for mom, her liver stopped functioning and so did her kidneys. I knew then she was trying to go be with my dad. The nurses came to me again on the 3rd day after my dad died and told me that even with the life support machines, she was trying to go on her own. They told me I needed to be with her as much as possible because they didn't think she would hold on much longer. I walked in her room that night on April 27th and I had a very long mother/daughter talk with her. I told her that she had fought some tough battles and that she was more of a person that I could ever dream to be. I told her my dad and some very "special" friends were watching over her and they were waiting on her to come be with them. I told her to go into the light also and to watch for dad because he was already there waiting on her. I'll never forget the sound of the machine when her heart stopped beating. I stayed there for awhile longer, finally making myself let go. It's hard to let go when you know it is truly the last time you will ever see someone. I kissed her good-bye forever and took the clip someone had made for her out of her hair an squeezed her hand.

They days after that I felt cheated and that God had not answered my prayers. I was angry and I was confused. It was not until month's later that I realized that I asked God to heal them and he did just that. He gave them the "ultimate healing" and he took them home. One of these days I will see them again and I am waiting on the day where I can hug them again. Until then I will remember the good times.

One day it will be my turn to go into the light and I hope that my life makes an impact the way theirs did. They will live on in me forever and never be forgotten.