Nine Years

Nine years.

Life has a way of reminding you what your purpose is. Just when you think you’ve found your footing, it gently—or sometimes painfully—leads you back to your why.

The last couple of years, I’ve been genuinely content. I’ve poured my heart into growing my business, working on my property, and volunteering at the Ronald McDonald House. Those things have brought me peace. They’ve filled my days with purpose and my heart with joy.

But this past Monday…

The memories of the day Aubrey went to Heaven came rushing back with a force I wasn’t prepared for. It wasn’t just remembering—it was reliving. It felt like standing in the ocean as wave after wave crashed over me, pulling me back to a place I thought I had learned to carry a little more gently. In the nine years since losing Aubrey, I had never experienced anything quite like this.

For those who don’t know Aubrey’s story, here’s a little background.

Aubrey was born with paralyzed vocal cords and extremely low muscle tone. Even on the day she went to Heaven, she couldn’t hold her own head up. Because her vocal cords were paralyzed, she had to receive a tracheostomy when she was just one week old so she could get the oxygen her tiny body needed to survive and grow.

Fast forward three and a half years ago.

My cousin welcomed a beautiful baby girl, Kaylie, who was born prematurely. Because she arrived so early, her lungs and airway weren’t fully developed. And just like Aubrey… Kaylie needed a trach.

The circumstances weren’t the same, but seeing another precious little girl with a trach stirred something deep inside me. Every milestone, every challenge, every tiny victory brought memories flooding back and reminded me just how much I still miss my sweet Aubrey.

Then came Monday.

It started like any ordinary day. We had just finished a job in the shop, and I was heading inside for lunch when my mom called my dad. Normally, I wouldn’t think twice about their conversation, but something made me stop. I could hear it in my dad’s voice before I even knew what had happened. Something wasn’t right.

Then he put the phone on speaker.

I won’t share all the details, but Kaylie had developed a blockage in her trach. Her mom had to perform CPR while calling 911.

The moment I heard those words, my heart started pounding.

Every emotion I had spent years learning to carry came rushing back. My chest tightened. My hands trembled. I knew this story far too well.

Although I wasn’t the one who performed CPR on Aubrey, this was hauntingly familiar. This is how our nightmare began. I tried to push the fear away. I tried to convince myself that everything would be okay.

Then my mom called again.

In that moment, I knew I had to get to the hospital, not for my sake but to be there for my family.

It was complete déjà vu—the kind I prayed I would never experience again.

Nine years ago, I was at work when I received the phone call that changed my life forever. My mom was hysterical. Those words still echo in my mind. Aubrey had stopped breathing and was being rushed to the hospital.

There are some phone calls that divide your life into before and after.

That was one of them.

And on Monday, for just a moment, it felt like I was standing in that same place all over again.

I am also extremely thankful that the Lord works in miraculous ways. Miss Kaylie’s story isn’t over. Her amazing momma, family and doctors did everything they needed to do to save this sweet girl. And please keep her in your prayers, as in a few weeks she undergoes reconstruction surgery in the hopes she will get to live life without a trach.