A Parent's Letter to Her Daughter Following 'Every 15 Minutes'

Earlier this week students from Bella Vista High School took part in Every 15 Minutes, the program aimed at educating students on how impaired driving impacts not just one person's life, but many lives. Though the program was simulated, the resulting reactions felt by these programs are real, as are the emotions.

Susan Mackay-Logue, mother of Kelly Logue - one of the students who took part in the simulation - participated in the event. Even though she knew the experience would be difficult, expectations can often never prepare one for the realities of the actual situation - even if that reality is based on a simulation.

As part of the program Susan wrote a letter to her daughter, expressing the impact and her resulting reaction to what she experienced. Below is the unedited letter she shared with Fair Oaks Patch:

Kelly, 

         They told me that you died today.  The doctors, the nurses, a chaplain, the EMTs…they all spoke to me, but I couldn’t understand what they were saying. I just saw you this morning.  I kissed you goodbye and you shrugged away from my kiss, like you always do.  We laughed and I said, “Have a great day!” like I always do.  But they kept talking at me, words hitting me like waves.  “…alcohol related accident.”  “…wasn’t wearing her seatbelt.” “We’ve all been working on her.”  “We’ve done all that we can do.”  “Time of death 12:19 pm…”

         They are lying!  You can’t be dead!  It’s a trick…a sick joke! I’ll close my eyes and they will be gone.  Just like when you were little, remember?  You would squeeze your little eyes so tight when you didn’t want to hear what I was saying.  You would squeeze them tight in the hope that when you opened them, I would be gone and my request would vanish with me.  You would squeeze those eyes tight and then peek out from under silky lashes hoping to see and empty room, but I was still there.  Your pudgy cheeks would turn so red when I laughed at the sight of your goofy, scrunched up face.  If I squeeze my eyes tight, will they go away? 

         I can’t believe this is real.  You just got back from Alaska. They offered you a scholarship! Your dress for Junior Prom came today…TODAY!   You have to play in the Senior Optimist Game on Saturday.  We have to go to Katie’s gallery opening tomorrow.  Oh God!  Katie~KJ!  Where are they?  Do they know?  Did someone tell them?  How do we tell them? Oh God…how do we tell them?!

         KJ was so happy when you got home from Alaska.  He ran into the house, bouncing off the walls.  “Is Kelly home yet? Can I go jump on her bed?”  When you grumbled about being tired and sleeping, he shouted, “Mama, make her wake up and play with me!”  Two peas in a pod, you are. Oh God~

         What will he do without his partner in crime, his best friend, his unconditional supporter?  Who will be on the receiving end of your secret handshake? Who will scare away the skanky girls and remind him to always be kind to others? Who will climb in his bed and snuggle him when times are particularly hard?

         This whole year has been hard.  We’ve been through so much with Daddy. This is too much.  But you were always there, coming to the hospital and making Daddy laugh, smuggling in food, and telling him about the basketball games. Your very presence pumped life into him. 

         But you have always filled our lives with joyfulness.  From the day that you were born, you brought joy to all of us.  You were Katie’s little play thing, from the very beginning.  I sometimes wondered if any of you would make other friends because you had each other and didn’t seem to need anyone else.   Katie in her purple Zorro cape, you in your pink tutu over your Giants uniform, and KJ wearing only shoes, socks, and a smile, you kids owned the neighborhood.  Those memories are too vivid.  They were yesterday.  Is that all we have left?

         What about college?  What about adventure?  What about the wonderful life that you deserve to live?  We will never see your wedding.  A girl who looks great wearing her brother’s jeans and Daddy’s sweaters should get to have a beautiful wedding in an amazing dress. This is so unreal. I can’t wrap my mind around not seeing your children.  Remember how many times we have “arranged” your marriage to ensure a future generation of uber athletes?  My plan has always been to retire and stay home with the grand babies so you can work and make your mark on ESPN.  The dream can’t end here!  It just can’t! 

 But they told me that you died today. Time of death 12:19 pm…