“There has been an accident,” It was August 18, 2005. I got the call, the call nobody ever wants to get, ever. There has been a bad accident on route 24 south, near exit 10. My aunt Alice said, Falon’s gone, she didn’t make it. “No, I cried,” No, this can’t be true! I didn’t want to believe it, I couldn’t believe it, and I didn’t really believe it right then, until later on, when everyone had gathered at my uncle’s.
I walked into my uncle’s apartment, a small one bedroom place, to an overcrowded apartment full of grieving broken hearted loved ones and friends. People with tears, cascading down their face, like flowing rivers. Most of the other people were embracing and hugging each other so tight, not wanting to let go of each other. Lots of used tissues, rolled into balls, were strewn all over the tables and furniture, clouds of cigarette smoke moving in slow motion through the air, and empty beer cans were all over the place. My uncle was sitting at the table wearing his big blackened out sunglasses, trying to hide the pain he was feeling. He never cried before, he was a big brawny tough guy. Men weren’t supposed to break down and cry he thought, until now after losing his first born daughter.
I had no choice at this point, it was true, she was gone and reality hit me, like a ton of bricks. I broke down, and cried like I have never cried before. My eyes were blood shot, red rimmed, and full of tears, snots were running down my face, and my mouth was quivering while my body was shaking, thinking to myself, “How do I deal with this?”
Just seventeen days ago had been one of the happiest days of my life. I had given birth to my son Alex, and now I am dealing with the loss of someone who meant everything to me, feeling consumed by grief and a broken heart. How can this be? This loss is unlike any I have ever known. The pain I am feeling is ripping me to shreds. It goes through my whole body and it hurts, like something I can’t even explain. The loss is so intense, like a part of me has been stolen, a part that I can never get back, the loss of my cousin, my sister, and my best friend. That is who Falon was to me.
Flashbacks started instantly, thoughts of her when she was little, the times our families lived together. To three weeks ago, the last time I saw her and everything else in between, our recent conversations and the last day we spent time together. She had come over to take my daughter and I out to breakfast. We were in the car with the windows rolled down, the wind flowing through our hair listening to Kid Rock music. On our way to the little Portuguese restaurant, laughing and joking around about my big round pregnant belly.
Every single little memory of Falon was flashing through my head, at an accelerated rate of speed, like a rapidly moving slide show. Starting from the day she was born, until this extremely horrific day. The intense pain and anxiety I’m feeling are unbearable. I feel like an elephant, is sitting on my chest squeezing the oxygen and life out of me. Why her? Why did God have to take Falon?
She was such a loving happy child and always smiling. She was so much fun at such a young age she was always learning and trying new things and we were inseparable. Our bond was growing stronger every day. We were cousins, growing up like sisters. The years went by swiftly, my uncle then decided to move to Maine. I was depressed and heartbroken, because Falon would be moving far away. It wasn’t as bad as I imagined though because my uncle came down often and stayed at our apartment for weeks at a time.
I was like her big sister. She always wanted to brush my hair and I let her, it felt so good. The brush bristles stroking my head and sliding down through my hair. It put me in a catatonic state of relaxation, where sometimes I would actually doze off. I used to let her put makeup on me too, the feeling of the makeup brushes tickling my face felt good and made me squirm. It was fun when she was around I liked being pampered. We would also play Barbie dolls, and make Barbie houses out of shoes and then watch Punky Brewster episodes while just hanging out in my room. “Falon, actually dressed up as Punky Brewster for Halloween around this time.”
We grew up and inherited the nicknames Tami bag and Falon bag. They called us that because we were always in someone’s business while we we’re kids. I guess she learned a lot from me. Don’t get me wrong, I was a good kid. I was just very outspoken and liked to talk, and say whatever I wanted to say around my family. Falon had learned a lot from me and she acted like me, she inherited my attitude, and also talked like me too, using my tones of voice. By this time we were cousins, who grew up like sisters, who then became best friends. I know, it might seem unreal, because I am seven years older than she was, but she was my best friend and more. We did everything together. She was with me while I was learning how to drive a car.” Falon be quiet, I need to concentrate,” I would say, as the car was jerking back and forth harshly, while my foot was pounding the gas and then the brakes.
Falon was wise beyond her years, an older soul in a young body. We were close still, but were more like sisters at this point. We would bicker and argue and fight, she was the nagging little sister, always tattle tailing. She knew how to push my buttons, that’s for sure. She would always go in my room and touch all my things. She would get mouthy and act like a miss know it all, and mock me. It was basically like that until after I moved out of the house when I was eighteen. Our bond grew tight again and after that she would come and stay over my apartment on weekends. Falon grew up and became a very responsible young woman. I was proud of her. I knew she learned a lot of the responsibility from me. We were alike in so many ways.. She was a great person, and always looking to help someone, like I always did.
I had my first child, and Falon was also a big part of my daughter Desiree’s life too. We were cousins who grew up like sisters, then became best friends and now she was my babysitter. She was great with my daughter and my daughter loved her so much. My daughter got to experience the joys of knowing and loving her too. They had a strong bond and connection, until that day, when my heart sank into oblivion. That call, that Falon didn’t survive the accident, is ingrained in my memory, it tore my world apart piece by piece to the point I no longer feel like a whole person. To this day nobody knows how it happened. To our knowledge, nobody seen anything and there were no other cars involved. I remember the weather that day. I wish I knew what happened. Why she was taken from us?
Every moment and every memory are playing out like a movie in my head, rewind, replay, fast forward and pause. Over and over the cycle repeats. I don’t want to forget a single moment with Falon, because I can never get those moments back. I just wish I knew why this happened, but I don’t.
The only thing I do know is, two days later she talked to my daughter in my daughter’s dream. My daughter came and woke me up and said mama, mama, Falon talked to me in my dream. I woke up instantly and asked her what Falon said? My daughter had just turned five, two months before this. She said that Falon told her she loves and misses us, even your father too. My other half and she used to joke around and aggravate each other. She told my daughter to give my son a hug from her and she’s sorry she didn’t get to see him. She’s also said she’s sorry she has to go now. I wrote this all down as I was asking my daughter what she said. I wanted to know more so I asked my daughter what Falon was wearing in the dream? My daughter said she was wearing black clothes, I asked her how Falon’s hair was? She said it was up in a messy bun. We didn’t know the details of her appearance the day. When I talked to my uncle and told him what happened with my daughter he told me that’s what she was wearing and how she had her hair.
The fact that remains is, time has gone by and nothing gets easier. I still feel the same as I did that day. The only solace I have is, knowing that she came through in my daughter’s dream because of the bond we all shared, love, family, and friendship. I know I will never have this connection with anyone else because she is irreplaceable. We were cousins who grew up like sisters and then became best friends.