From 11 years of age until I got married at 18, I earned money by babysitting. I went to a medium-sized church with a great number of young families, so I had jobs aplenty. During the school year, my Friday evenings and Saturdays were often spent caring for little ones while their parents would get away for a few hours to catch their breath. Most summer days were dedicated to hanging out with these same little ones while their parents completed whatever tasks they had to accomplish that day. I was with some of these families almost as often as I was with my own and was greatly influenced by some of the moms who would entrust me with their children.
One such mom was named Carla. Carla was a warm, outgoing woman who loved deeply. 13 years my senior, she related well to teenagers as it hadn’t been too many years that she was a teenager herself. She was a young mom with one child when I first began babysitting for her. Her son was a wavy-haired blondie with big blue eyes and chubby cheeks. Ryan and I hit it off right away and he quickly became one of my favorites to babysit because of his spunk and big heart. Carla was in school at the time, so Ryan and I spent many warm, summer days together at our local swimming pool while Carla was in class. I would sit on the edge of the shallow end while he would play energetically which was true to his nature. I don’t know what it was, but the kid and I just clicked.
Over time, my relationship with Carla developed into more of a big sister/little sister bond than a young mom occasionally hiring a teenage girl to babysit her child. Carla (who by this point had 2 children) and her husband would invite me over often. At times it was to babysit and other times it was to simply hang out with their family. Time has a way of blurring memories, so I don’t even remember what we would do when I was at their house. I just remember how I felt: secure, accepted, and comfortable. I was a young, quiet teenage girl trying to figure life out. I was insecure, still missing my dad who had passed away 5 or so years before, and was in an ongoing process of trying to work through the dynamics of a blended family. I know that God put Carla in my life as she connected so deeply with me. She spent hours upon hours with me and took me many of the places that she went including prenatal checkups. I didn’t care where we were or what we were doing, I just loved being with her. She took a great interest in my life and loved me well.
During my freshman year of high school, I found myself in an unhealthy relationship with a guy that I am going to call John out of respect for his family with whom I still have contact. John had a very sad childhood and carried the baggage of that into our relationship. Due to neglect that he suffered and broken relationships with those closest to him, his biggest fear was more loss. That translated into a very controlling relationship. We are all broken people, aren’t we? We all have our baggage. We all have our faults. I hold nothing against John, honestly. If anything, I feel compassion because I know how incredibly deep his wounds were. During our on-again, off-again 2 and a half year relationship, I did not make the best choices. I also didn’t understand how to set boundaries and, being a nurturer, I often overlooked and excused harmful behaviors.
During one of our break-ups, I began opening up about the unhealthy nature of our relationship. I was very beaten down at this point and was racked with guilt and shame. I’ll never forget the day I confided in Carla. We were riding in her car through town and the conversation had such an impact on me that I actually still remember exactly where we were. She began asking me questions and as I answered, her responses were filled with such grace. She did not offer unsolicited advice nor did she criticize me in any way. She didn’t try to lord her wisdom over me, rather, she began sharing with me about her years as a teenager and some of the struggles that she had. She put herself in my place and instead of showing any sort of judgment, she showed complete empathy.
Unfortunately, my relationship with John ended in a very tragic way. On the morning of May 10, 1993, I talked to him mid-morning at my school locker and everything seemed fine. After saying goodbye, I began walking toward my next class but felt the urge to turn around. John was still leaning against my locker watching me walk to my class. He smiled and waved and watched until I was no longer in sight. That would be the last time I’d see him. I later found out that he walked out of school about an hour later after telling some of his friends that he may not be back. This was the last day John was seen alive. A 15-day search and investigation ensued but to no avail. I was called out of class a few days after he was last seen and was interviewed by 2 private investigators. I was in no way a suspect in any sort of nefarious activity, but the investigators were trying to find any possible leads that would take them to John. To say the waiting was stressful is an understatement, especially at 17 years of age. I did everything in my power to keep myself busy. I mention this time of life in this tribute to Carla because she was my saving grace through this whole ordeal.
On May 25, I was hanging out at Carla’s house which I often did. I have no doubt that she had invited me over this particular day to keep my mind busy. That evening, the phone rang, so I answered it since she was putting the kids to bed and her husband was resting on the couch. A lady from church asked to speak to Carla, but I told her she’d have to call her back. Gwen said it was an emergency and I could tell by the urgency in her voice that I must pass the phone to Carla. Within a few minutes, she came and found me.
“Kendra, they found John. He’s dead.”
Life had become too much for John. He had been hurt severely by an immediate family member the day before he disappeared. He had told me all about it, but I didn’t realize just how deeply wounded he was because he told me in a very nonchalant way (though now I know that this was a way to mask his pain).
I can’t tell you how much it meant being at Carla’s house when I received this news. I was in a home where I knew I was well-loved and supported and I know it was completely orchestrated by God. He knew that I needed Carla at that moment. Simply being in her presence in those moments after such devastating news was so reassuring.
Carla, I am a TERRIBLE long-distance friend. I do not keep in touch as I should, but I pray you know how much I love you. The impact you had on me as a preteen and teenager was immense. You poured so much time into my life and helped shape me into the person I am today. Every hour that you spent with me (and there were hundreds of them) is time that I will forever cherish. I hope you feel honored by this post, though I don’t feel like this even begins to express the amount of appreciation I have for you.
And now for my readers, who touched your life as a teenager? Who selflessly poured time into your life as Carla did mine? Reach out and let them know the impact they had on your life. Don’t Wait until it’s too late! Send them flowers, send a text, mail a card, take them out to lunch. And then post about it on my FACEBOOK page. Please take this challenge with me as explained in the post found HERE. I hope this will eventually take off and we will all step out of our comfort zones in order to reach out to others. Whatever you do, DON’T WAIT!!!
What an awesome tribute to an amazing lady & friend.
Great Story! Thanks for sharing. My Aunt Rose was the greatest influence in my Life. She is gone now, passed away about 3 years ago. Amazingly, she was able to tell my Cousin before she passed, that her relationship with Christ was gained through our relationship! That was like an amazing piece to hear, because in my youth, my Aunt Rose was always there for me, hearing my failures, when I was strung out, when I was on the streets she didnt give up on me, she came to see me in a drug rehab. And then in the end of her life, to hear that years later, after I was saved, God allowed me to bring Jesus to her that kept in her final years! She died so gracefully, and courageously. I haven’t been able to give much to my elder family members, but this was like a God given way to repay her for all the years she was there for me.
Thanks for reading and for sharing that, Victor. You gave your aunt the greatest gift imaginable!