A Family Remembers

A Father Remembers













Kendra’s middle name is Dawn and recently someone asked why we decided to use Dawn for a middle name. Knowing Kendra and looking back over her life Kendra was like the dawn of a new day in our life.
• Kendra could replace darkness with her inner glow just as a dawn does for a new day
• Kendra brought warmth and light to others each and every day
• Just as dawn brings out the song of birds, Kendra would bring the laughter of children, joyfulness among friends and the bonding of family
• Kendra filled us all with love and joy

Joan, my wife, and I remember Kendra when she was still in a crib. In the mornings we would hear her wake up, being happy, jabbering and just ready to enjoy a new day. We would walk into her room and there she would be standing up and looking at you with the biggest smile.

That is how Kendra was her entire life, happy to see you, willing to comfort you and ready to wrap you with her arms for a true loving hug. I know Kendra would want you to share the same love and support for those who are close to you as well.

Not all days are sunny in life, sometimes the dawn bring clouds, rain, wind and challenge, on occasion Kendra would bring her stern waving finger of “you better or else” if she thought you weren’t taking care of yourself, or doing something which we both knew we should be doing.

It is hard to understand the loss of Kendra in our physical world so we need to rely on our faith in knowing Kendra’s time had come. Kendra was called to answer the calling of a higher power for a greater good. I know that phrase is used often but I now know a truer meaning.

One day before we found out Kendra was entering her last chapter of life, a card was left in her hospital room for Kendra. I asked who left the card and was told it was a housekeeping lady. I opened it read the phrases which were from John 14:2 I noticed it was signed by someone named Felicia (meaning Joy) and put it back in the envelope. Later I used the back of the envelope to write some notes and phone numbers for a cemetery and funeral home. Two days later on Saturday morning around 4:30 a.m. I went for a drive to find some understanding of the what/why for losing Kendra and noticed the envelope in my console. I pulled over and read the card once, twice and then over and over thinking back to the hospital and then I tried to find Felicia to thank her for the card. I asked the two ladies who cleaned her room if one was named Felicia, they did not know of the card or Felicia. I stopped looking for Felicia, I now know who the card was meant for.

The card read:
“In my father’s house are many dwelling places…I go to prepare a place for you” John 14:2

“With sympathy and the hope that you will be filled with the peace which passes understanding”
Felicia, Housekeeping

Isn’t that just like Kendra to go before us and to prepare our place of dwelling. You can count on Kendra for getting all the details taken care of even in heaven. . . because she runs a “Tight Ship”.

Kendra will always be our Dawn in the days of our life.
~ Kennis


 A Brother Remembers












So today I tried to keep busy and stay distracted. Had some help with that, but tonight I am reflecting back a year ago on the most challenging day of this temporary and short experience we call Life.

My sister, Kendra, became sick around the first of March, and by April 5th I watched helplessly as we made the decision to let her rest in peace. After a month of what she went through it was the only option available. I don’t know what was more painful, watching my niece and nephew walk into that ICU room, or experiencing the process our soul takes as it leaves the temporary body and moves on to the Afterlife/heaven, Or as some would say, “going back home.”

When you lose someone close to you, it honestly makes any fear of death melt away and is a constant reminder to actually LIVE life versus “drifting” as talked about in Napoleon Hill’s book “Outwitting the Devil.” Sounds strange but I think we all know someone who has already died, yet they are still physically here.

The last words my sister said to me were “I love you” about a week before she became ill. I had to go pick up my parents from her house as the wine cellar had provided another night of good conversation around the table I’m sure. As I was leaving I faintly remember her saying “I love you”, knowing I had dropped whatever I was doing, to instantly become my own parents’ Designated Driver! Little did I know that was the last time I would hear her voice.

I’ve also become aware of how important it is to consciously go through the grieving process. Three straight weeks of traveling for work prevented that from happening. All the built up stress and anxiety was immediately fixed with a good cry. (Real men are not afraid of showing their emotions by the way.)

It immediately reminded me of a book about a Special Forces Sniper who would break down and cry/sob right after engaging in a life or death firefight behind enemy lines. It was his way of releasing any guilt/fear/emotion and moving on.
~ Zach