Chrissy's Home (Part Ii)

"You're not afraid- are you, Stacey?" She giggled. "Don't you think you ought to slow down?" I mustered. "We'll be alright," she said with a grin and kept on trucking, but when we parked, I almost responded as the Pope does when he deplanes. However, that would have been too cynical; yet, when the Christmas holidays rolled around, I left the driving to Greyhound. While at home, my Christmas was very merry, and New Year's Day was happy, until I received "the" call. It was Chrissy's roommate, Belinda. "Stacey." She paused. "Chrissy died yesterday." "What-?!" I exclaimed softly, uncertain of what I had just heard. "The weather was bad on her way to church, and her truck hydroplaned into oncoming traffic," she responded. "But they say she died instantly." Then we silenced. As I clutched the Christmas card Chrissy had made for me, my heart bled with grief. Although I felt a great sense of loss, I never blamed God or Chrissy's driving for the fatality. Neither did my eyes shed a tear, not because I repressed my emotions, but for the reason I shared at the BSU memorial service held in her honor. "This is not a time to mourn, but a time of joy to celebrate Chrissy's homecoming, as she would have wanted us to. And we know where she is, where her heart has always been, home with Jesus." Yet alive here, Chrissy is in my heart and commemorated in books throughout this country through the following poem I wrote with her in mind When Special Moments Come Again Moments come and go, But special moments come again, When the thoughts of you with me Seem they never have an end; As a touch brings back sensation And a song triggers emotion, A smell brings back the memories, As a taste triggers the notion That we'll always be together; What we shared will never end, And I know that you're right here When special moments come again.