The Jacket

Broken chains

¨Our family chain is broken, and nothing seems the same, but as God calls us one by one the chain will link again” said Ron Tranmer. By: Madysen Tietze


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July 18, 2018, started off as any regular morning. Little did we know our family chain would be broken a few short hours later. I was on my way to color guard camp. I grabbed all my stuff and rushed out the door. On my way downstairs I knocked a picture off the wall and intended to pick it up as soon as I got home.

 

It was just like any other normal day at guard camp until my aunt came rushing in and told me to get my stuff ready as she pulled my coach into another room.

 

As we pulled up to the house I noticed numerous cars parked all around. I was met at the door by my dad as he pulled me into a hug and started crying. My dad explained to me that my sister Cassie was involved in an accident that ended her life.

 

A million thoughts rushed through my head. As I made my way up the stairs one slow step at a time I looked at the picture I had knocked off the wall that morning. I realized it was a picture of Cassie. Over the next few days, I saw my family begin the process of grieving. People came and went. Some brought food. All brought love and sympathy.

 

During this time I just felt numb. That Friday, July 20th my dad preached my sisters’ memorial service to over 300 of her friends and family all there to honor her memory. My dad stated, ¨There are only three things that can get our family through these times, faith, family, and friends.”

 

During this time I faced a major spiritual battle. My spirit believed everything was going to be fine and I would see my sister again, but my heart was broken and weak. I felt strength and comfort while feeling broken and lost at the same time. The spirit and the heart kept pulling back and forth; it felt like a game of tug-of-war.

 

Some days the spirit would win and others the heart would win. I would get to a point where this battle was so intense that I would be shaking and crying. I would be so hurt and angry that I just wanted to punch my fist through a wall. I spent many Sundays crying on an altar. I felt like I couldn’t handle it anymore. I was coming to a point where I understood how someone could go through a turmeric situation and lose faith. I clung to my faith, and that is what has sustained me thus far.

 

I didn’t know how to deal with grief; none of my family did. For me, I had never had to deal with something like this. I pushed all but three or four people out of my life. I spent a lot of time alone crying because I didn’t want to bother my friends with my problems. I soon decided I couldn’t continue on like this anymore, but I still didn’t know what to do. I wished there was someone to help give me ideas on what to do.  It took awhile, but I eventually figured out how to deal with my grief in a healing way. I now want to use my story to help others in similar situations.

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Broken chains