Thursday, May 17, 2007

Sadness, Today

Julie was one of the first people I met when I started working for Clear Channel in Nashville. It was my first job out of college, and I was the youngest network sales rep by 25 years. She was our network assistant at first, and although she soon moved cubicles to work for a different division of the cluster, she was never far. She took me under her wing, telling me the ins and outs of the stations. She knew how the network operated, who was nice, and who was bitchy. It wasn't long before we were good friends, lunching and shopping. She was always smiling.

When she met Chris, she was ecstatic. He was quiet where she was bubbly, the ying to her yang, and I was happy she was happy. I went with her to pick up her wedding dress, and to see the apartment she and Chris would share. Her wedding was beautiful, crimson on a cold day.

She has always been one of the most cheerful people I know. She even made the best of a military move far from her friends and family, when the Air Force sent her husband to Florida. When she found out she was pregnant, I began receiving frequent email updates with sonogram pictures and exclamation points. I marked her due date on my calendar, and sent her an email congratulations when she delivered baby Dillon last September 15. She was a stay-at-home mom, and Dillon was her world.

Two days ago, he would have been 8 months old. Instead, he lies in a tiny coffin, on his way to Nashville for a funeral service Julie can't attend. She herself lies in critical condition in an ICU in Florida, paralyzed on the left side after a horrific car accident; a semi rear-ended their car. They were returning home from a family vacation in Orlando - Chris driving, Julie in the back seat with Dillon. Her injuries are too numerous to list. It will be six months before she walks again, if she is able to regain sensation at all. A video of the crash scene shows a package of baby wipes on the ground near their car, Dillon's yellow swim ring still packed in the back.

In terrible pain physically, her emotional health is worse, her soul bearing a wound I cannot fathom.


Il grande chef said...

Your blog is very interesting.

Anonymous said...

That's so sad! Julie will be in my thoughts.