Nikki

Apparently, we went to preschool together. I don't remember it but my mother says we did. We went our separate ways for quite a few years and met up again in junior high. We sat at the same lunch table but really bonded during second period P.E. class. With another friend, Kate, we would play tennis and "accidentaly" hit the ball over the fence and out of the court and of course it took three adolescent girls to get one ball. The reality? We would hid behind the portables for the remaining portion of class. We'd talk about boys, make-up, friends, classes, and every other silly thing twelve-year-old girls talk about. Other times, when we actually did play the required sports, we would beg her to sing for us. She'd belt out songs with the most beautiful voice I'd ever heard. After each song, she'd burst into a fit of laughter which was also a beautiful sound. That's how I like to remember her, laughing. She did it so often. Her favorite song to sing was "The Rose." Fast forward a few years to high school. She was the one I called the night before ninth grade started, terrified I'd get lost the next day or at least stuffed into a trash can. Luckily, she was as scared as I was. Somehow that made me feel better. The next morning we met up according to our plan-at the locker we were sharing-to help each other find our first period classes. We both had our first "real" boyfriends that year, and over the next few years we went to school dances, had slumber parties where we stayed in her room for hours listening to music, sat in her parents' garage in her dad's sports car (we weren't suppose to), wrote notes to each other in school, got in trouble in history class for doing our own version on sign language across the room, learned how to drive in a friends' car, dyed our hair with kool-aid, made up silly names for each other, and confided in each other. We went through some major ups and downs as only girls do in friendships (why can't we just duke it out like guys?) and honestly, we weren't close by the time we graduated high school. We were hanging out in different groups and as much as I tried, we never really came back together again. It saddened me to loose such a close friend but in the end, I honestly knew we would reconnect later in life. The last time I saw her was the night we graduated high school, at a friends' house party. Her boyfriend was with her and she seemed really happy. I remember we hugged and wished each other good luck at college, which should have been awkward but wasn't.

Fast forward again-It was the summer before my Junior year in college and I went home to Alaska to visit my family. The day I found out, I had gone out shopping with Amber. I can't even remember where we had gone or what we had been looking for. It was the most normal day. She pulled into my parents' driveway and before I had my seatbelt off, my dad was walking out to the car. I remember thinking, "Why doesn't he have shoes on? Why is he coming to the car?" He told us he had bad news. All he said was, "Nikki died. She was killed in a car accident in California." I can't remember if he told us all the cicumstances then or if I learned about them later. The whole night is kind of a blur. I asked him if he was joking (I know-like anyone would joke about this) but I guess I just could not understand how it was true. I asked Amber if she was alright to drive home and she said she thought she could. I made her promise to call when she got to her house to make sure she was okay. I went inside the house and started the phone calls. I hate calling people with bad news but since I figured I was the first to know in my group of friends (my dad found out the news from a friend of his that worked at Niki's family's bank) I knew I had to. I called about four or five people before it actually hit me. I started crying and didn't know if I could make any more calls. What are you suppose to say? "I have bad news" or "I have something to tell you" or do you just say "Nikki died"? And to have to say it over and over again. I don't remember much about the few days in between hearing the news and when her funeral took place. I do remember going to various places around town and seeing people from high school and either having to tell them or being consoled by their hugs. I was feeling so confused, like a fraud in a way, because we weren't in touch when she died. Did I even have a "right" to be sad? Was that minimalizing everyone else's sadness? I realize now that it didn't matter when we were or weren't friends-we had a connection and I was sad she was gone.

My mom always says bad things happen on Thursdays. Nikki was exactly 20 years and one month old when she died on Thursday, August 16, 2001. She was driving her younger sister and herself to college from California to Washington. After they stopped to eat lunch and call their mom to check in, a drunk driver jumped the median and struck them head on. Her sister suffered a broken jaw and nose but survived. Nkki didn't. Her sister's jaw was wired shut at the funeral so Nikki's boyfriend of six years read for her. He also sang a song, "It Is Well With My Soul" that was beautiful and he was so calm and collected the whole time. He amazed me. There were so many people there, friends from high school, teachers she had had, cousins, aunts, uncles, people whose lives she had touched. I was so pissed off that all her obituary said was she was killed in a vehicle accident. I don't know if her family couldn't or chose not to write it was an irresponsible selfish drunk driver that really killed her. I thought the truth should be there, in black and white. It was the middle of the day. Why is someone drunk in the middle of the day? It just seems so unfair. I'm angry that this man made a choice to drink alcohol, get in his car, and kill her. We didn't just have to deal with the sadness of losing a friend, someone so young and full of life, but we had to deal with the way in which she was killed. At her funeral, the Reverend (Niki's grandfather) talked to the hundreds of people about how it was so unfortuante that all of us young people suddenly had to grow up so fast, to deal with not only her death, but the cause of her death.

"When a friend, neighbor, lover, co-worker or an acquaintance doesn't die of natural causes, but is killed by the senseless preventable behavior of an impaired person, grief can be strong, so intense that it goes beyond what can be described in words." (www.madd.org)

Today I will try to remember her for her, not the terrible way in which she was taken from the world.
Here's what was written on the back of her funeral program.

Nikki was our wonderful daughter, sister, and friend.
She lived life so very fully.
She cared so much for others.
She was the clown and a bit messy.
She brought sunshine energy, and enthusiasm into any room.
She made ordinary events fun and exciting. . . and happy.
So much life.
She loved her family, her friends and her God.
We love you Nikki.
We will miss you so very much.