| It was the first really cold day of that year. The weatherman said it was not so cold south of here. It was supposed to be 41 degrees in Abilene. I checked. It was colder than that here, but I had seen worse at that time of year. It was a little cold, a little wet, a little snowy, but not too terribly bad. I was concerned about you leaving on a trip, but you were going south. It was supposed to be better weather that direction. You were so excited. I didn't see you during the day, just talked to you on the phone. You had spent the night with Lee at her dorm. Your car had broken down and you wanted to be on campus, so you would not have to bum a ride with someone. From Lee's dorm you went to classes and then to work at Printech. It was also on the campus. Your loving sister sat at a desk in the office where you both worked and saw you come in the door with just a touch of snow sparkling in you beautiful blond hair. Your eyes sparkled even brighter. You were so happy to see the snow, you loved it. She said you were absolutely beautiful. Your face was flushed from a brisk walk in the cold weather and from anticipation of the week end trip you were planning. You were happy; excited about life, about being a college girl, about your plans, about being grown up. Even though you were college age, you still cared enough about my feelings that you asked for permission to go on this trip. I said yes. I said yes. I can never get that out of my mind. Even though I was apprehensive about the weather, I said yes. I called to tell you to be careful. I checked the weather on the Internet. I talked to friends about my concern. But, I still said yes. You came home about 5 p.m. to get some clothes. You told me you put a blanket and flashlight in the car. You said, "Wasn't that smart of us?" I said, yes. You said, " I'll see you Sunday." You even put a message on your answering machine telling people you would be home on Sunday. You weren't. The last vision I have of you is imaginary. You are lying on a cold, dark, wet highway, with your cell phone in your little hand. The screen shows 911. You were calling for help for others who had had a wreck. You stopped to help. I can see the car lights and shadows all around you, and you by yourself, on the road, hurting, afraid, needing me. I was at home watching TV. Then the phone rang. My life became a nightmare. It will remain so the rest of my life. I could hear people yelling. I could hear sirens. I could hear the terror in Lee's voice. But I could not reach you. I could not hear you. I could not hold you. I could not keep you warm. I could not take care of my baby. I could not say it would be OK, it will never be OK again. Texas Tech flew the flag at half mast. Nothing will ever be right again. I said yes. Why didn't I say No? Yolonda Moore Mother of Kimberly Ann Moore December 7 1978 ~ November 14 1997 |
| November 14 , 1997 |
 |
|