Shadrick Vickers (1976

The first night I spent there, I stayed up the entire night. I was not going to let me brother go without a fight. I spent the majority of the night by his bedside talking with him and praying with him. By the grace of God, my best friend Ginger worked at the same hospital and was on duty that night. She took several breaks throughout the night and stood by him with me--helping me understand the numbers, tubes, machines..etc. There were several times that I just wanted to shake him, shake the life back into him..but I couldnt.

I met two ladies in the waiting room. I don't even know their names now but in hind-sight I think they were my guardian angels that God sent to be with me. It didn't matter what time of night or morning it was, those girls would go with me into my brothers room and pray for him. They spent so much time with me.

A few days into his stay, the waiting room was packed and I was back in sitting by his bedside...I kept looking at him and hugging him and I noticed that his hair was getting oily and stuff...So I ask Mom if she'd get the stuff so I could get him cleaned up. I washed his hair and brushed it...I put lotion on him to make him smell good...and when I walked out and down the hall a crowd of people stood at the doorway..all I could say I was "I made him pretty" and then I fell onto our air mattress and cried for a while.

That night I went home to get some rest and to spend some time with my children and Savanna. As I tucked them into bed that night I remembered the words that a good friend of my Mom's, Danielle Sheperson, had said to us that day. She looked deep into our eyes and said "Let GO and Let God!"....

Wow--"Let GO"..That was the part that I was having the hardest time with. I felt like I was ok with the "letting God" part, but that first part got me. I stood in the shower that night and as the water ran down me I kept hearing those words over and over in my mind---LET GO AND LET GOD! So that night as I stood there in the silence I did it....I put aside my own selfish pride and at that moment in time I ~LET GO~....I can remember the thoughts that went through my mind...It was like a video clip of our entire life flashing in my head like an old warn out film strip. I saw us playing in the sand when we were kids, graduating high school, holding each others babies, hugging, smiling, holidays, weddings, etc....It was so fast, but it was like I saw everything. Then I felt this peace...You know, in the bible they talk about the PEACE THAT PASSES ALL UNDERSTANDING! That was it..that was the peace I felt. Then, I sank down into the shower and cried...Not for my brother, but for ME!

The next morning my dad called and said that I should come on back and bring Savanna. He said (and I don't remember his exact words) that today was the day.

In an instant I knew that today was the day that my whole existance would change. I knew that this was something that I would have to prepare my 6 yr old niece for...So now the question in my mind was...how do you tell a child that her daddy is going to die today?

I stood in my kitchen and I prayed...I prayed for God to give me the words and give me the strength to help her understand something that I didn't even understand. I was soooo mad at the world and so scared and had so many emotions. I felt like my whole body was going to explode. I can remember breaking a plate over my head because the pain was so excruciating that if my heart was going to hurt that bad, that my body should to. *It's hard to explain unless you've felt that pain before*

I walked into my living room and sat Savanna in my lap and took a deep breathe. Of course, she ask what Papa had said and wanted to know how her Daddy was. I don't know what I said to her but the Lord spoke through me and explained the situation. If you know me, you know that I'm an extrememly emotional person..but without a single tear drop I told her the worst news she'll probably ever have to hear. Her little 6 yr. old body fell into me, like melted wax, and cried. She kept saying, "but Sissy, I don't want my Daddy to die..."

Then the questions....She asked so many questions...One of them sticks out in my mind so much...She said "Sissy- who is gonna be my Daddy now?" I assured her that her Daddy would ALWAYS be her Daddy..but Papa and Bubby Shawn and others would help fill the void in her life.

Savanna, Sydney and I loaded up in the car and on our way to the hospital we stopped to get Tiffany (Shad's wife). I can remember walking in and Aiden was sitting in his high chair smiling. His little eyes were glowing that little glow that always melted my brothers heart. I lost it! I ran outside and cried and cried. How in the world could this be fair? How can I be 26 yrs. old and have a perfectly healthy Daddy and this little innocent child be losing his today?

That morning Savanna had chosen a book *Morris the Moose Goes to School* it was she and her Daddy's favorite book to read together...She wanted to read it to him before he died.

When we got to the hospital, Savanna was very gitty and excited to read to her daddy. It's amazing how resilent children can be to situations like this..She ask me, Mom & Dad to go with her to read.

Today my brother was in a new room. I can't remember why they moved him, but they did. When I walked in the room--it felt so empty. I didn't share the emptiness with anyone until weeks after he'd passed. That's when my Dad told me that he'd felt it too!

Gathered around the bed we listened to Savanna as she prepared to read to him. She wanted to sit right up next to him so he could hear her. I can see her now as she proudly began.."Now Daddy, stick your tongue in your mouth and listen to me"...His tongue was starting to fall out around his vent tube, which was very disturbing to me, but not to that sweet little girl. She started her book and she read every word, not skipping a beat. Savanna is a very active child, so for her to sit still and concentrate on something that long is very unusual, but she wanted to make her Daddy proud one last time before he went to sleep.

As she finished her book, my heart ached with so much saddness and as I sat in a chair beside him, I laid my head over on him. My Dad was standing beside me and my Mom was on the other side of the bed with her head laying over on the bed as well. It was at that moment that we all shared a moment that I will NEVER EVER forget.

Savanna looked up and said "Papa?" and my dad answered, "What Sweets?" (That's what he calls me and Savanna) and she said so innocently..."I believe my Daddy's soul just went to heaven"....My Dad said.."What makes you say that sweetie?" and she said, like she couldn't believe we weren't experiencing the same thing..."Don't you see that angel?" My dad answered, "What angel?" she continued.."That angel with his hands beside my Sissy's hands."

March 31, 2005...That must have been the longest day of my life.

That morning we met with a group of Dr.'s and nurses because they have to actually sit you down and tell you that there is no hope. We sat at a table in a small room...Ultimately the decision was Tiffany's (my brothers wife) but this was a decision that we made as a family. We sat there and listened to the Dr. tell us those excruiatingly painful words..."There is no hope"...and from the pit of my stomach I became ill. I had to go out of the 'meeting' several times to throw up because the words that the Dr. spoke made me physically sick.

After the meeting we had some time...we had as much time as we needed. We wanted to give all the family time to be there so everyone would have a chance to say their goodbyes.

They turned off the lights in his room and we had a radio on in there playing soft music. People continued to flood the waiting room, like they had done for our entire stay. So many people came and prayed with us, sat with us, fed us...They did whatever they could. But no one could do what we wanted the most...make my brother all better.

We each took turns going in to say goodbye and spend some time with Shad. The whole day was such a blur that it's hard for me to recollect, but I will do my best. I can tell you that this was the part when the day went from being painfully long to being like we were going in fast foward.

At one point in the day everyone had arrived and we all gathered around my brothers bedside. (Normally it was only 2 guests at a time, but they made exceptions) We all held hands and my Dad's brother, who is a pastor, led us in prayer. He also did something that I appreciated so much...he took a moment and ask us if there was anything we'd like to say. Honestly, I can't remember what all was said but it was all wonderful.

I stood at the head of his bed with my face laying on his face. It was like I couldn't let go, like I was supposed to. I just wanted to stay there forever.

My Mom needed some time so I moved to the side...As I stood back like a on-looker, I watched my Mom hold her 6'6 380 lb son in her arms and sing 'Jesus Loves Me'...my heart ached.

The events that followed seemed like seconds but I'm sure it was longer...We all said our LAST goodbyes and left the room. Only, my Dad's brother, Uncle Bo...he stayed. We didn't want my brother to be alone but we knew that none of us could handle it.

They gave him pain medicine to make him comfortable and removed the machines...

(If you are reading this I want you to know that the following few minutes were the WORST minutes of my ENTIRE life...I even ache as I write these words because the pain is so hard to put into words)

Mom and Dad were sitting outside of the ICU doors in the floor against the cold concrete walls....I laid in my Mom's lap and felt like my heart was being crushed by pain.

It didn't take long until they came out and told us that he was gone.

GONE! My brother..my big brother..Gone--forever!

They told us we could come back in and I only went back in for a few seconds because I couldn't take it. There was no life left in the room and his color had faded. This moment is my only regret..I wish I hadn't gone back in because each night, still---a year + later...I see his face--like that, almost everytime I close my eyes.

That night, we walked down those lonely halls of Central baptist hospital and loaded up our cars to go home.

I drove by myself with my little Sydney. She fell asleep very quickly and I listened to music as I drove. On my way home I heard the song "I'll see you on the other side" playing on the radio. I drove and I cried!

That night when I got home, my husband was there waiting on me...He was standing on the porch and when I saw him I fell into his arms. He didn't have to say a word, he just held me...and together we mourned.

I dont even recall sleeping that night. I'm not sure if I did..all I knew was that the next day we would drive to our hometown to bury my brother.

April 1---April Fools Day?? But this was no joke. He was still gone. I walked around the house..packing our bags. I would sit down ever so often and just cry. My heart was hurting so badly that I felt like I couldn't breathe.

My aunt "Sissy" called to check on me and I remember sitting down in the recliner and when she ask how I was I just cried. I said "Sissy...I dont know how to do this..." and she said "What sweetie?" and I said "How do I pick out what I am going to wear to my brothers funeral?"

The trip home was long and the rain beat down on our car. I was numb!

When we got there we had so much to do. So many plans to make. I don't hardly remember any of it..It's wierd how you subconsciously try to forget something so painful.

We didn't open him up until April 3rd because we had to special order his casket. My big brother was just that..a big guy. I had to smile as they told us that they'd have to order it..He would have been so proud. He loved being big!

Standing in my Grandmothers house, the night before visitation, my mom sat on the couch and everyone was getting my brothers clothes ready that they wanted him to wear. I held my hands out and touched his black sweater *it was my favorite* I put my face against it and I could smell him. I pressed my face against the sweater and cried.

It was Sunday when we had visitation. We only had it for one day, and at the end of that day I was really glad for that. It was a very long, emotion day.

We went early, as a family, of course and when we walked through the doors of the Carter Funeral home, it was surreal. It didn't seem possible that we could really be doing this. I walked down the aisle and when I saw him, I couldn't breathe. You know, people said "he looks so peaceful" and while I can see that, all I could think was the he just looked so "GONE".

Shawn had chosen a picture that he always loved of Savanna and Shad together at her 3rd b-day party and we placed it in his casket with him. I sat on the front pew and wept for the loss that I was experiencing....It didn't know how I could ever find peace in my heart to deal with this sort of pain.

That day, wow--the funeral home had steady crowd from the time they opened the doors until they shut them. People came from hundreds of miles away to pay their respects to him.

For most of the day, I found myself feeling WORRIED. I was so worried about my Mom & Dad. I didn't know how they would ever survive such a loss. I caught myself daydreaming numerous times during that day..just wondering if I'd ever see them smile again.

That evening we had planned to have a service at the funeral home and let me tell you, I'm so happy we did. It was the most AWESOME farewell service I've ever or WILL EVER attend. We opened the service by singing praise songs. This was very hard for me, but good at the same time. All I could think of was seeing my brother standing in the front of his church the precious November, raising his hand and singing praises. We sang many of the same songs that evening and it was great...
After the singing, the preacher shared some memories of Shad...His best friend, Tim, played the guitar and sang "Pink Floyd- Wish you were here"...That was awesome! Shad would have LOVED it!

Then the good part! This was the part where everyone would have a chance to stand up and say something...something about my brother.

Let me first start by saying that growing up, there were many times that I was ashamed of him..many times I was disappointed in him..and there were even times I was embarrased by him. (Lets face it, that's part of being siblings, right?) but during this service, I've never been so incredibly proud to be his sister. It was breath-taking to sit and listen to person after person stand up and talk about what an amazing person my brother was. You know, I felt like that in that moment...It was all already beginning to make sense.

It's been a really long time since I added to this but today my heart is heavy and I have more to say.

As people stood up talking about my brother, my heart was full of so much emotion. I was so proud of him, I missed him..while I felt like I could keep listening all night...part of me just wanted them all to stop and stop talking about him like he wasn't there.

We made it through the visitation and then the next morning was the funeral. This was one of those days when you just want to stay in bed because maybe if you did, the day would never happen.

The funeral was nice...I felt myself not even listening at the service because I just was in a wierd state of being. I was mentally preparing myself for the rest of my life...instead of dealing with the present. I don't think it even hit me until they began singing "I CAN ONLY IMAGINE"...and that is when I felt like I couldn't breath. I felt like I was smothering and the pain was going to kill me.

As they carried his casket out of the church my heart broke even more each second. It was hard for me to comprehend that my BROTHER was in that box..I got really mad at that moment and resented the fact that they were going to bury him. It's weird how many different emotions you feel when you are hurting.

At the burial we all stood up on the hill and the ceremony was short and sweet. Again, I was sorta "not there"..I don't know..I think I emotionally removed myself because my kids were both there and I feared that showing my pain in front of them would be too much for them.

After the burial, I was sitting on my Great-Grandmothers back porch (It's a family cemetary) and my cousin Brooke walked over to talk to me. She had a story to tell me but was having a very hard time telling me...She faught back her tears and told me about a time when we were little...She, Shad & I were playing over there at my Granny Cille's farm...we were catching butterflies and putting them in mason jars. Well apparently we had forgotten to polk holes in the lid and the butterflies died. Well, my brother was such an animal lover that this was so sad to him. He told us that we should bury them. So, the three of us climbed the hill and dug a small hole in the family cemetary and buried the butterflies. The story wasn't really that significant until after the burial because we had buried them in the same spot where we buried my brother.

From then on, a butterfly took on a whole new meaning to us. We collect them now in his memory and everytime we see them, we are sure it is him coming to whisper his love to us.