I wasn’t sure what I was going to post today. My heart said to write about Amara.
“Keeping Amara Alive” takes on a different meaning today than it did a year and a half ago. In 2021 and a few years before that, we were fighting to literally keep her alive. If you don’t know our story, you can see a lot of it in the La Crosse Tribune’s articles on our foundation. Many thanks to reporter Emily Pyrek for doing such a great job. Yes, we bared our souls and hearts. We told our story, and it was tough. Some may think we overshared, but you know what? Life with someone struggling has to be told, and we didn’t mind sharing because Amara would have wanted us to. I know that with all of my heart. It doesn’t matter anymore because the person she was while she fought addiction is not who she is now. She is free. She is whole. She is peaceful and happy.
Keeping Amara Alive now–today, tomorrow and until we’re reunited in glory–means keeping her spirit alive. We’ll take her spunk, determination, compassion and all the other wonderful things she was and we’ll embody it into the mission of our foundation. There are many times when I’m working I will hear her voice in my mind. “Hey, Mom, great idea.” or “Do it, Mom! You go, girl!” I know I have a cheerleader in heaven.
Keeping Amara alive means talking about her a lot. We had our favorite shows, favorite songs and favorite places to go. Sometimes Randy and I will be talking, and Amara comes out–one of her one-liners that had everyone in the room burst into laughter. And we laugh just like we did back then because we can feel her spirit–she’s still with us in so many ways.
How are we living without her? It’s very hard. I talk to her often. I also tell God to give her hugs for me and let her know how much she is missed. Going through her journey with her was difficult to say the least, but having her leave us is still absolutely unreal and nightmarish. Like I’ve told many people, though, I can either curl up, hide from society and shut down, or I can keep her spirit alive by doing what I–and every director on the board–is doing: moving forward and trying our darndest to save lives, families and communities. We’ve become warriors because this is war.
Amara was a warrior. Unfortunately, she lost the battle. We won’t retreat, we’re going to fight this fight with all of our strength. We have no choice, and I know that I know that I know she’s in heaven, very much alive, and she’s proud of us. As much as I want to be reunited with her, I’ll stay and do the job she left for me to do.
Selah