SATURDAYS ARE THE WORST (JENNIFER)

Saturdays are the worst.  Avery died on a Saturday and we buried her the next Saturday.  My body instinctively knows Saturday is coming.  Each Friday night, I struggle to sleep.  Each Saturday, I awake early with the thought I have each morning, ‘Avery is gone’.I try to focus on the Friday nights.  

Jason, Becca, and Avery left Thursday morning for our annual Memorial Day campout.  They were able to spend some time with the Jason’s parents before heading to Lick Creek to set up camp.  Raygan, Amelia and I wrapped up work, school, and chores and left Thursday night.  We stayed at my parent’s home with Daniel and Jill and their family.

Friday morning, we headed to Idaho Falls to pick up the RV my sister Emily and her daughters would be spending the weekend in.  Raygan and I listened attentively as Frenchie explained the dos and don’ts of caring for the RV as well as the driving lesson.  I honestly thought that driving the RV from Idaho Falls to Lick Creek would be the most stressful part of my weekend.  We felt a sense of accomplishment as we navigated the roads, filled the water tank, and pulled into the beautiful meadow where we have camped each Memorial Day Weekend for the last 21 years.

Parking was limited.  I was so excited to see such a wonderful turnout.  Aunts, uncles, and cousins galore!  My interaction with Avery on Friday was a bit limited.  She had been counting down the days until the campout for weeks.  She had packed her bags a week before the trip.  She was organized and methodical in her planning.  Avery remembered the years it was cold and wet and was so thankful Raygan ordered her a new pair of pink glittered rain boots for the trip when she realized her sister’s hand me downs didn’t fit.  Avery remembered the years of playing with her cousins and packed her American Girl dolls and all the supplies they would need.  This included a customized car seat for two lovingly crafted from a shoe box, ribbon, and hot glue which Avery designed and completed on her own.

During the previous week when Avery had been meticulously planning the trip and the adventures which awaited, I was praying for sunshine.  The forecast noted a weekend of rain.  I was concerned Avery would spend the majority of the trip in our tiny pop up trailer unable to play the way she planned.  Upon my arrival, she informed me, “I brought warm clothes because you said it might be cold.  The sun has been shining all day!  I’m starting to get hot.”  She then pulled up her sleeves and headed off to play.  Throughout the day, she picked wildflowers and practiced skits for the annual talent show with her cousins.  Avery was determined to play a game of partner tag.  Feeling a bit wiped out from the travel, I sat on the sidelines and cheered on the games.  I hate the fact I didn’t play.

 We checked in at dinner time where we engaged in our typical “please eat at least five bites of real food before you spend the rest of the evening eating s’mores and candy routine”.  As the evening progressed, the sky became dark and the campfire burned bright.  Avery came and sat by me.  When it started to drizzle, I asked if she was game to head to bed.  Much to my surprise she agreed.  She was tired.  Avery had been concerned about the sleeping arrangements for weeks.  As the youngest and the smallest, she was usually squished into a spot with others.  Avery was also keenly aware of her role as the early riser in a camper full of teenaged sisters.

Jason was determined to sleep in his backpacking tent.  This left the big bed for Avery and me. She wanted to sleep on the edge of the bed closer to the door because, “it will be easier to get up quietly and get out of the camper without having to crawl over someone”.  We cuddled up and fell asleep.  Somehow during the night, she worked her way out of our two person sleeping bag, and was cold.  She woke me up in hopes I would start the heater.  Upon realizing why she was cold, I pulled her back into the sleeping bag next to me and proceeded to cuddle her rubbing her arms and legs until they were warm again.  We were able to get some more sleep.  Just as she knew she would, she awakened before anyone else.  It was Saturday morning, she smiled at me as she silently slipped out of bed.  Avery then dressed as quietly as she could and headed out the door.  Avery remembered that the early risers usually got hot chocolate and some extra time with a grandparent before everyone else got up.  I stayed in bed and read a book from the library, one of my favorite activities during the quiet camping hours.  I was reading, Courage to Be You by Gail Miller and Jason Wright. 

It was Grandma Nan and Papa Tom’s turn to make breakfast.  We ate pancakes, Avery’s favorite.  She quickly ate with her cousins.  While I ate slowly and visited with my siblings.  Andrew mentioned how nice it was to have the nieces push his son Oliver in the stroller.  Avery met me in the breakfast line where she was grabbing one more piece of bacon, her second favorite, and I was getting another pancake.  She asked if she and her cousins could walk up to the ‘first witch’s house’, a well-known and routinely visited abandoned cabin not far from camp.  I gave her permission and then asked her to save a little energy so she could take a turn pushing Ollie in the stroller.  Avery gave me her typical look, the look she gave me when she had big plans i.e.: crafting, watching TV, drawing, playing with her dolls etc. and I asked her to do something not on her agenda i.e.:  comb her hair, brush her teeth, clean up her stuff etc.  Not wanting to rain on her parade, I told her to go and have fun with her cousins.  Not wanting to disappoint me she told me she loved me and would be back soon. That was it.  That was the last conversation we had.  A beautiful Saturday morning that turned to tragedy.