The Day My Life Changed Forever

** This post might be hard to read especially if you were close to Brendan. This is how the day unfolded for me.

People always talk about defining moments. A day you never forget. A thing that changes your life forever. This is my moment. My day. Something that changed my life forever.

Friday, June 24, 2022.

My husband, Brendan decided he was going to stay home from work. He wanted to spend time with me and the boys before I started working again. But, honestly, he probably wanted to sleep in some too; we got home late Thursday night after taking our oldest, Oakley, to see his first movie. Typically, our days home together involved spending quality time with the boys and just lounging around the house watching our favorite shows, so I was really looking forward to getting to have some extra time together.

When Friday morning rolled around, Brendan got up earlier than he normally did and I pretended to still be asleep in hopes he would get all the kids changed and fed for me.

I love being a mom but sometimes doing the same things over and over gets to be a bit much. I was excited not to have to do our morning routine or at least to get some help during it.

About 30 minutes later Oakley came into my room asking me to change his diaper and I told him to go ask his dad.

"Daddy left. He isn't home."

This caught me off guard and, honestly, made me irritated. The one rule we had was he always needed to let me know when he went out on the motorcycle.

I called Brendan and asked where he was. He said he was going for a short ride and would be home soon. So, I did the mom things. I got up and changed all the boys' diapers and got them a snack. By the time I was done, Brendan called me again to tell me he was picking up Subway and to see if the boys or I wanted anything. I declined wanting anything but he was going to bring home food for the boys. He said he would be home in about 30 minutes.

Over an hour passed and there was still no Brendan.

That’s when I started calling him.

Call 1: Straight to voicemail.

I thought that maybe his phone had died or he was on the phone with someone else, so I was going to wait a few minutes and try again

Call 2: Again, voicemail.

Confusion hit. I knew Brendan charged his phone the night before, otherwise, he would have mentioned that his phone was going to die when I spoke with him earlier.

Call 3: Voicemail.

My anxiety started taking over then. I started to panic, wondering if something happened to him.

I texted him "hellooooooo?" Still nothing.

That’s when I started to look for information. I checked our neighborhood Facebook page to see if anyone posted about any accidents. The first post said there was an accident 15 minutes from my house involving a car and a motorcycle. When I clicked the comments it said it was a green motorcycle. My heart dropped.

Brendan’s motorcycle was green.

I instantly started to panic and pace my living room. My three boys, all under three, were being…boys under 3 and I quickly became overwhelmed and irritated because I was worried something happened to my husband, their dad. So, I called my mom.

"I might be overreacting and it might just be me letting my anxiety take over but I can't get in touch with Brendan and there was an accident with a motorcycle near my house."

I had thought to myself: There was no way that accident could have been Brendan… things like that didn’t happen to us. My mom didn’t agree.

“Call 911, Brooklyn.” She told me.

“Mom, I’m just going to drive to the accident scene and see if I can get any information.”

At that time, 911 felt too much. Dramatic. So, I threw on a pair of pajama shorts that were too short, my "wifey" sweatshirt, and I put the boys in the car in their diapers and started driving.

When I got to the scene it had already been cleared up, and there was still no call or text from Brendan. My mind was racing. Where the f*ck was he? What was going on?

I called the city police. They said it was out of their jurisdiction and recited a number to me to call.

I called that number. They also said it was not a call they responded to and told me to call the state police. I was told another number for me to memorize.

This is when I started to get agitated; one because there should be a database for each jurisdiction to see the others information and 2 because they should be able to transfer me without me having to memorize these numbers while I am worried something happened to my husband and driving.

At this point? I was still holding out hope that I was overreacting. I just kept telling myself that there was no way this accident involved Brendan.

While I dialed all the numbers, I drove back and forth on the same road, trying not to lose service.

I tried to type in the state police number over and over again, but my mom was also calling me over and over again, which made me have to start over and over again.

I was losing it.

Looking in the rearview mirror I noticed the boys were staring at me and they looked scared. They didn’t understand why their mom was crying and yelling into the phone and I didn’t have the capacity to calm them.

When I was finally able to type the number in and hit send and I felt a little relief... This was going to be the call that told me that the accident didn’t involve Brendan…at least, that’s what I kept telling myself.

Me: Hi there was an accident on ________Street. Can you please tell me the name of the motorcycle driver?

Officer: No I cannot give out that information.

Me: Well... Um... If I say a name can you tell me yes or no?

Officer: What is the name of the person:

Me: Brendan _______

Officer: What is your relation to his person?

Me: He is my husband

Officer: Where are you?

Me: On the side of the road in a church parking lot.

That's odd… why would they want to know that?

Officer: Can you please meet an officer at the hospital? They will give you more information.

Now, I knew something was wrong. I knew deep in my soul that Brendan was not okay. I remember the panic taking over and sobbing, as I headed towards the hospital and I called my mom back.

She cried and screamed into the phone.

"Brooklyn I am soooo sorry."

I wanted to scream at her apology. Even though my gut knew something was wrong I was still holding out hope that he would be okay. Because no one had actually put into words what had happened. What I had been trying my hardest to not think about. To avoid.

I hung up with my mom and called my sister in law. She was working, so when she answered she was talking to a customer. I was yelling into the phone trying to get her attention. When she finally said hello I told her I was heading to the hospital because Brendan was in an accident.

“Why? What happened?”

"I don't think he is alive." I sobbed to her. It was the only response I could give. I didn’t want to say anything definite, even the word dead, without knowing for sure.

I started to move on autopilot. I called my mother in law. Her husband answered the phone and I repeated the words again.

“Brendan was in an accident. I don’t think he’s alive.”

He asked me to repeat it for my mother in law.

"I don't think he is alive.” I said again. It was heartbreaking having to admit that I thought something was very wrong to the people that loved Brendan most. At this point, I did not have proof to back up my feelings.

'Now everyone was on their way to the hospital. I finally had a moment to breathe and I realized I was going 90 mph and I had my kids in the car.

“Calm down.” I told myself, I tried to think of all the things I could do to distract myself. So, I called my coworker because I knew she would. When she said hello I repeated the words I’d been saying to everyone but more bluntly: "He is dead... I think Brendan is dead."

When I explained what I knew so far. She told me she was meeting me at the hospital to help me with my kids.

I got to the hospital and I whipped into a spot. I needed to get out of the car as fast as possible.

I needed answers.

Nothing was going to stop me from finding out what was going on with Brendan.

I needed to know he was okay.

I rushed to get my kids out of the car, they were only in diapers and no shoes. When I got them out of their car seats, it felt like I had lost so much time. So, I scooped both twins up and told Oakley to run.

When I entered the hospital, I heard the receptionist say "I think that’s her." I knew she was talking about me and I knew something was wrong as soon as I heard that.

Receptionist: Hi, how can I help you?

Me: I was told to meet an officer here about my husband?

Receptionist: Who is your husband?

Me: Brendan _____

Receptionist: Please follow this nurse to a conference room.

They stuck me, my sister in law, and the boys in a small room and said someone would be with us soon.

I still had nothing confirmed, no one had told me anything at all. Just wait…again. But I know he is dead. Even though no one has said it, I know. Everyone around me believed he was okay, that he was probably in a bad accident but he would be okay. I knew. I knew they were wrong and I could not possibly be the one to break that news to everyone. I was still trying to hold out hope that I was wrong. I never wanted to be more wrong in my life

A nurse (we will call him Nurse R) comes into the room.

"He was in an accident and you can see him after the medical examiner is done with him."

I felt numb just taking the information in

.

My sister in law, Melissa, came from behind me and said "What?!"

I realized what Nurse R was implying, and I was not going to accept that Brendan was gone without someone saying it point blank. I thought he must be in the wrong room talking to the wrong family.

"I am here to speak with a police officer," I told him.

Nurse R looked at me confused but unfazed at the same time. Almost as if he was annoyed.

"Ohh.. I think he left but I'll check." He left the room again.

He was gone for 10 minutes. On his way back to the conference room they passed my sister in law, and she told them they were not allowed to give me any news in front of my children because it would not be fair to any of us. Nurse R said “The kids are young. They won’t remember.” But she insisted.

The police came in, pulled me into a room away from my children and that’s when he finally said it. He confirmed what I had deep down known all along, but had the smallest sliver of hope of being wrong.

"There is no easy way to say this but your husband is dead. He was driving too fast and crashed into another vehicle. I do not believe he suffered. I am so sorry for your loss."

Finally. Finally someone put it into words. There was no more hoping that I was overreacting. My worst nightmare was coming true. My best friend was dead.

All I could think was…How am I going to survive without him?

I got back to the room with my kids. Melissa, my sister in law, told me she was going to take them to see if she could find clothes for them.

I called my best friend Rachel and when she answered all I could say was "He is dead."

Everything felt like I was on autopilot. I needed people to know, but I couldn’t put it into words.

I explained the little bit I knew, I asked her to call all of my friends and Brendan's friends to let them know what happened.

I will forever be grateful for Rachel taking the lead in this because I didn't even know how to tell people he had died and I was asking her to inform everyone.

An hour later, my family arrived and I was finally able to go back and see Brendan.

I was numb, and staring into space. I had nothing to say to anyone. I was just trying to keep it together for my kids…I already scared the boys once by yelling. My crying was not going to help them.

So, on autopilot I made some arrangements: I sent the kids to their uncle's house. They had no idea what was going on. I didn’t know how to tell them. I definitely did not want them to see him because they wouldn’t understand why Daddy wasn’t waking up. I sent them away to protect them but I also couldn’t go through the trauma of trying to explain it to them at that moment.

I went back alone to see him first. I asked to be shown every single one of his injuries no matter how horrific it was.

I will forever be thankful he was wearing his helmet because it kept his face in mint condition.

I sobbed by myself for 15 minutes. That was all the time I allowed myself before I said family could come back. I wanted to be strong for everyone else. I wanted to be strong for Brendan. I knew if I was crying everyone would try to comfort me and this was supposed to be everyone’s chance to say goodbye. It was not about me.

Once family started to come I stopped crying, and I refused to make eye contact with anyone and wouldn't allow anyone to touch me.

I sat near Brendan's head and I could not move.

Everyone had to go to the other side to say their goodbyes. I heard every single one of our family members tell him goodbye, my heart broke more if possible.

For 5 hours, I sat with him. I did not leave his side. I would not leave the room. I cleared the foam away from his mouth so no one had to see him that way. I felt like that would have been more traumatizing to them. I made sure his body was always covered so no one had to see the extent of his injuries. I continued to try to prevent our family from seeing some of the things I had to witness that will haunt my memories.

When Nurse R came back. He told me this was a hospital and we couldn't just stay all day, so everyone needed to say their goodbyes and leave.

He proceeded to tell me I needed to tell him where to send his body and give him all of these answers right away.

Me: I… I don’t know. I have never had to do this.

Nurse R: Well I need answers. Someone needs to come get his body

Nurse R proceeded to tell me he lost his father when he was 2 years old and it changed his life and he is still upset about it... Are you kidding me… he just told us my kids were too young to understand but he was younger than my oldest.

Once we walked out of the hospital I told everyone I was going to get my kids and then I was going home. When I got home with my kids I had to have a 1.5 hour conversation about donating body parts. Then I had to break the news to my oldest.

I was, and am, shattered.

Brendan was the love of my life. My best friend and biggest supporter. There was no one he loved more than me and the boys.

There is a piece of me that I will never get back. So, this blog, this space, will be for me, maybe for you all out there who lost a piece that will never be back, and how I navigate it all.