In the months after both Kayla and Amber's accidents, my memory is nearly vaporized. Yes, there are some things vividly ingrained, but to say that I am weak in that area would be quite an understatement.
This has been evident many times since 2004. One instance happened two years ago in 2012 when I called to set up a breakfast meeting with an accountant in town. That morning we were eating and talking for 30 minutes when he stopped in mid-sentence to say "Do you remember the last time we got together? It was breakfast then, too, on May 4, 2004... eight years ago... and later that night I heard on the news about your daughter's terrible accident, except I didn't know until the following morning it was your daughter. Craig, do you remember seeing me at the visitation? I gave you a big hug and cried with you."
No, I didn't remember, as I stared past his right ear to the wall behind, thinking... did I want to remember? What else was I doing that day? It seemed like the only thing I could remember was when I came home from work and saw Kayla for the briefest of moments as she said 'Hi Dad, how was your day? Mom and I had a bad day." She then walked briskly through the dining room and out the front door for a ride to her youth group outing. Unfortunately, I remember the rest of that night pretty well.
And then today a Christian brother stopped by my office, wanting to catch up. We talked for several minutes when he stopped and said "Craig, do you remember when we talked about my business over lunch at Lone Star, Oakview, the day of Kayla's accident in 2004?" I found myself going into a little bit of memory shock, looking over his shoulder at the wall again, and wondering why that day was being pieced together.
You know, this is all so relevant to me. We are 10 days away from what would have been Kayla's 26th birthday and there is nothing - nothing about her I ever want to forget. What a gift then. What a gift now, and what a gift it will be, by the blood of Jesus Christ, when I see her again.