It was July 2nd, 2011. A day that is forever etched in my memory. I can actually remember the day before just as well, because of the events that went on. So, I'll start there, and let my story take me wherever it may. So, on July 1st, 2011, I was going about my day as a camp counselor in Minnesota, called Friendship Ventures (now known as True Friends). There was a bad storm on the horizon, and the tension with some of the campers was visibly noticiable. While with others, they were just happy as can be with the opportunity to be at camp. When the storm hit, it was bad. We were all packed into a gymnasium of sorts when the lights went out, and the wind was howling. Trying to make things better, all the staff sang song after song after song, comforting those who were visibly shaken. Once the storm blew through, the power was still off, and we had to improvise with everything. Dinner was served with the help of some emergency lights, candles, and whatever else was thought of. Once outside to head back to the cabins for the night, the damage was everywhere. Trees were blown over, and limbs and branches were strewn everywhere. I tend to find this moment to symbolize the days and weeks to come for my family. Once safely inside the cabins, we were given flashlights to use, because power would not likely come back until the next day. So, once it became dark, the campers were snug in their beds. One camper in particular needed a machine to help her breathe at night (called a CPAP machine). Due to electricity being down, we had to use a generator to make sure she would be able to use that. It was my turn that evening to wake up to continually check on her to make sure it was still working properly. So, once everyone was settled, I sent what would be the last few texts to my Mom. She was worried, and I told her I was ok. She proceded to post her last post on Facebook asking for prayers for me, the camp, and that power would be restored soon. Little did I know, after sending her a funny picture of the flashlight that was our light for the night, that I would never send her anything again. The cell phone service became a problem the next day with power crews working hard to restore what was lost. With the little amount of sleep I received throughout the night, I tried to take a nap in our cabin while the other campers and counselors played in the gym. It was too noisy, and I returned to everyone. We weren't given the all clear to bring the campers back to the cabin until later that afternoon because of the risk of more falling branches as the crews worked to restore power. I was finally feeling at home at camp, and wanted my mom to be the first to know. When we got into the cabin, my cell phone was going crazy. I asked the other counselors if I could step outside and take care of some things. I had 25 missed calls, and 2 texts from 2 separate pastors. They said something to the extent of them being worried that I hadn't responded to all the calls, and that I needed to call home, that my family was extremely worried about me. I thought to call my mom, but instead called my dad. I don't know why, my mom was my best friend, and I always knew she could tell me what was going on. I guess I'll never understand. Nonetheless, when the phone was ringing for my dad, my heart was racing, and I was shaking uncontrollably. In the next few moments, I would understand why. Gina answered, and said, "Gretchen, we've been worried about you, here talk to Dad." The next words that came were quite possibly the worst thing I may ever here in my life. My dad quickly said "Gretchen, your mom is dead." And I just started screaming. He filled in some minor details about her being t-boned at an intersection. She most likely didn't suffer, as she went quickly, and the man who hit her had a small child in his vehicle, but both were ok. What was known at the time is that he ran a red light, but not much else would be gathered until the weeks and months ahead. Immediately, one of my co- counselors came out to check on me, probably after hearing the death defying screams. I was on the ground unable to get up. I was heartbroken, and at a loss for words. If I had not called home at that moment, there was a sherriff that was coming to escort me to the airport, or find a way for me to get home. The town where this happened was pulling out all stops to get me home. Luckily, some staff at camp were able to place me with a wonderful woman of God for the evening. She took me to the airport on the 3rd of July to catch a plane to get home. I kept thinking that the nightmare would end, but it never did. I cried continually on my trip home. I flew from Minneapolis to Chicago to Indy. The generosity of people was incredulous. Two men at the aiport in Chicago gave me money to get lunch after hearing what had happened. I told them I wasn't very hungry (and I actually wouldn't eat for a couple of days after), but thanked them from the bottom of my heart. Once in Indy, my dad actually met one of the men who gave me money, and hugged him, thanking him for his kindness. My whole family was at the airport to pick me up, minus the woman who I dearly loved, my mom. They were all so ecstatic to see me, and that helped make the situation a little easier. July 2nd, and onwards for the next couple of days seem like more of a blur to me. I was very sick myself (having got bronchitis, and double pink eye at camp), and grief was powerfully at my doorsteps. I desperately wanted to turn back time to tell my mom one last time how much I truly loved her. I know she knew that already, but if that would have been my last text to her, my mind would have been at ease. Curiosity got the best of me, and I looked at the article of the accident. Luckily not much was shown with the cars involved, but I lost it. I now have that image etched in my head forever. My family was a strong unit, but I knew that this devastating loss would really test those limits. I finally realized on that day, and thereafter, that my family would never be the same, but that we had to make the best of the situation. I was strong, and knew that my training from nursing school and camp, could at least help me help my family begin to process everything. Crying and laughing and anger and pure heartache and silence would define us for some time after. We were at a loss, but knew that God would get us through. The empty chair that my family has (it was the last place she sat in before she left to run errands, and ultimately move on from this life) is a reminder to us that Mom is gone from us forever, but we will one day see her again. This day not only changed me forever, but also the lives of my family, the friends that knew my Mom, and even those that heard of her, or knew of her.