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.
Copyright © Leon Stacey | Year Posted 2007
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