We only see in Part. (part 2)

Just a side note, I don't know how many parts of 'we only see in part' I will be doing. I guess until I am done with all I have to share.

I don't know if I did such a good job tying in the 'beginning' that I mentioned in my last post... Oh well...
What I meant by 'beginning' was that I was going to go into death and how it has been in my life from a very young age.

I believe that I have been spared numerous times from bad things happening to me. Here are my experiences:

I was born purple. I decided to breath before leaving my mother's womb.

When I was in my walker I flew down a flight of cement steps into the basement of the bakery that my parents owned. My dad threw himself down the steps to save me from hitting a cement wall.

The most terrible: a car accident involving me, my sister, and our own school bus. This one resulted in a death. My sister.

December 17th, 1998. I was 18, a senior in high school. She was 16. The weather had turned bad while we were at school and so we decided to head home instead of trekking through the storm to Fergus Falls to our ballet classes. A few miles out of our school town we hit black ice and headed into the oncoming traffic lane. I don't really remember anything else except waking up from a dream that we had been in an accident. Only the accident in my dream happened in a totally different location and no one had gotten hurt. When I did wake up there were feathers all over and a familiar voice calling my name asking if I was okay and if I could tell anyone what had happened. My sister Selah had only regained consciousness for a brief time throughout my memory of the ambulance ride into Detroit Lakes. The feathers had come from her feather down coat that they cut off of her.

What happened? After I hit the black ice (I was driving), I headed onto the shoulder of the oncoming traffic lane. Which put me right in line with our own school bus (the one that picked us up in the mornings when I didn't drive to school) to hit right behind the passenger side door. The car ended up in 3 pieces: the seats where Selah and I were sitting, the rear wheels, and the engine and front tires could be seen spinning still on the road.

Selah stayed only minutes in the small hospital in Detroit lakes and was almost immediately taken to the Fargo, ND hospital with my parents. I was left with friends to scream at the radiologist to get me off of the stretcher because it hurt and because I was claustrophobic and couldn't move. I spent, I think, 5 days in the hospital and left with only minor cuts and bruises. Selah made great leaps and bounds in recovering from her injuries. However, one day it just stopped. She became jaundiced and the doctors declared her brain dead. She lived in the hospital for 10 days after the accident.

I remember being in her room and thinking "why was I left here?". I also remember seeing a shadowy figure by my sister's side. The figure I felt was death. I prayed for it to leave, but in my heart I knew that he would not. A few days later when we had decided to take her off of the machines we were praying in a room down the hall as a family. During the prayer I had a vision of Selah getting up out of the bed and taking the hand of the shadowy figure and walked down the hall, right into the room where we were praying. She looked at me, still holding the hand of the stranger, and asked if I wanted to come with her. I know I thought about saying yes, but I told her that I couldn't, I was needed here. The look in her eyes was of understanding and sorrow. She nodded yes, walked out of the room, and was gone.

The papers rightly placed the blame of the accident on me. Reckless driving (going 45) and hitting black ice. The paramedics interviewed about the accident said that even they had a hard time even standing on the spot that my car tires had hit.

The funeral for Selah was held in the school Gym. There were hundreds of people there. I barely remember it except for this: I made up a dance for the funeral. When I performed it I looked over my right shoulder and smiled. Selah and I used to dance together in workshops, ballet classes, home, for celebrations since we were very small. I could envision her dancing beside me and that brought me hope that she had made a decision to follow her savior into the light to save her classmates and anyone who was impacted by her life. I think she made a choice. I think she was allowed to see both sides of the story and knowing her she chose the side that would bring the most honor to her creator. After the dance ended I received a standing ovation. I was confused as to why. Hadn't I been the catalyst to this funeral? Why was I left standing? Why weren't these people as mad at me as I was at myself? It was a few months later when I found out an answer that made me think that there was more to me living on than just being punished for something unknown. One of the paramedics was one of our substitute teachers in gym class and knew Selah and I well. She also knew about accidents. She caught up to me with tears in her eyes at a school function to tell me this: "When you danced with full movement of your limbs I cried and was filled with such joy. You shouldn't be here, let alone walking. The accident was that bad."

I miss her terribly. Going through the grieving process of Angela has brought me through grieving for Selah again. I don't think I allowed myself to fully grieve her (Selah) passing and was transported back in time as I stepped into the funeral home, last Thursday evening, to Selah's viewing. I can only begin to know exactly what Angela's family is going through. But I have a pretty good idea.

I battled depression over the accident, not knowing how to work through being left behind. I left home and went to college. Got married. And one day decided to take all the pills in the house. I called a close friend immediately and was rushed to emergency room. I decided to change my mind. I chose life. Let me tell you liquid charcoal does not taste good. Months later, I found out that I was pregnant with Caleb. Caleb was then born in the same hospital where Selah passed away. We stayed in a room just down the hallway from where we last saw her spirit here on earth and we brought new life to my family.