Amber's Poem:
"As I struggle to comprehend, I lose my footing as I come around the bend.
Echoes and shimmers of a life passing me by, a fleeting pulse beyond the corner of my eye.
I miss the wide wonder featured on your face; its absence has left me lost and without faith. Overwhelmed with regret; I long for your dancing silhouette.
I’m holding on to your laughter as though it’s the only thing to save me from drowning. I try to recall the very pitch of every word you ever uttered, but all I can hear is silence resounding.
Each memory I have with you, a soft prism of light reflected in the morning dew. Any picture of you is a precious moment of time to hold on to.
Forever in my heart, and always on my mind, there you’ll stay and there you’ll be Amber Marie." ~NRD2006~
I've been doing my best to not let the upcoming "anniversary" get the better of me as it has in years past.....BUT, that is easier said than done.
What happens at this time of year is my brain starts to go into a rehashing mode, and the devil is in the details. I spend countless hours recalling where I was, what was happening, the sights, the sounds - all in an overwhelming web of timelines, should haves, and what ifs.
Most of what I am about to write has been told, and retold - my hope here is that by getting this all off my chest now, I can move forward and enjoy the small moments of this holiday season without becoming ensnared by grief.
December 22, 2005:
Am and I received an email from Lisa after 6 or 7 years of silence. We screamed, we laughed, we cried - Plans were made to see each other over New Years.
December 24, 2005:
Am gave me the greatest gift, and once again revealed how awesome a human being and friend she was. She let me use her vehicle over Xmas to see my mom in Ft Myers - and all I had to do was make sure she had gas in the Jimmy when she got it back.
January 1, 2006:
The best day ever. Lisa, Amber, and I were magically and fantastically reawakened as Trio we'd been in our youth. We'd grown, but our bound remained unbroken.
January 2, 2006:
The last time I saw Am alive. Her hair was pulled up in a twisted knot, and her eyes were puffy with sleep as she drove me to work in her flannel pajamas.
"Thanks for letting me deposit the rent in your account, and we have so much to talk about when I get back from my camping trip. We'll get groceries, dinner, and talk - how does that sound?"
"Great, thanks for the ride, I'll see you Wednesday. Have fun with John," I said.
She waved from her Jimmy as I walked toward the Transportation and Parking Complex at the University of Florida - that was it. I never saw her again. Its kind of poetic now that I think about it, her taillights fading as she drove away into the sunrise...
January 3-6, 2006:
These days were spent cataloging the contents of her room. I would stand in her doorway, ever respectful of her space, and look for any sign that she'd been home. The clothes basket was still on her bed, her papers were still strewn about her desk, the shades were closed, the bed was made. I found myself going so far as to look for extra creases in the bed - anything to give me proof of life, but all of this was to no avail. The 4th and the 5th were also two of the heaviest rainfalls we'd had in Gainesville/Ocala in awhile. (The 4th was the day Amber was murdered unbeknownst to everyone)
January 7, 2006:
One of the most gorgeous, sunny days I can ever remember. There were no clouds in the sky, and there was hardly a chill in the air. A perfect day for a hike in the Ocala National Forest. And this is what Davie, Dad Peck, and I did. A few of Dad Peck's friends from the RV park he was living in at the time joined us as well in our search for Amber. Davie had found coordinates and locked them in his GPS, and off we went. Dad Peck had found Amber's Jimmy the night before, so as we pulled up to where he'd found it only to see that it was empty - we became concerned. Dad P stayed behind with a walkie to wait for the Sheriff, and Davie and I forged ahead of everyone. We were on a mission - find Am - no more, no less. The trail was over grown and rugged, Davie couldn't help but smile when he thought of his little sister hiking this trail.
"It'd have been so much fun to have experienced this with her," he'd say. We were about 1/3 of the way in when Dad P called Davie and I back. There was something in his voice - something frantic...edgy...Davie and I looked at each other, and we ran back to the truck. We made it back in half the time, but our footsteps fell short when Dad P's Ford Truck came into view - it was no longer alone.
Davie sprinted to his father's side, and I slowed to a crawl as I took in the scene before me. There were 4 or 5 Patrol Units parked on either side of Dad's truck, as well as 2 or 3 unmarked Sedans. Yellow "Caution" tape had been hung across the south end of the dirt road, and was holding a news van at bay. Uniformed officers, and suits were scattered about the dirt and grass dodging around like ants under magnifying glass. Our gazes were avoided, and conversations stopped if Dad, Davie or I seemed too close for comfort - but bits and pieces were gathered.
"a male" "a female" "bullet casings" "blood" But no one spoke to us for hours. Through all of this I remained unflinchingly optimistic...Amber was hurt, that was all, I refused to believe otherwise.
I made my way to Dad's side, and his eyes (which never changed after this day) were almost my undoing. They were wet, and riddled with pain. We wrapped our arms around each other's waists, and again the magnitude of the moment encompassed me. He was a thin man, but a strong man. Dad Peck was stoic and impenetrable when his mind was made. But as I came into contact with his body, there was a tremble and a shake that coursed through his frame with every breath he took.
Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed a woman in a deputy's jacket that was shadowing our every move. She was immediately out of place for me. Her boots were high heeled - dressy. She didn't belong on a rescue mission - she belonged behind a desk.
"David, and David - You're Amber's father and brother, correct? And you must be Nellie, her roommate." (Oh that phrase!!! That phrase which I came to loathe. The one that reduced me to a minuscule anecdote in Amber's life.) With our proper introductions and handshakes aside, we were asked to take a walk with Nancy.
"I am not a deputy, but I work with the Sheriff's Department," she said, "I mainly work with victims...I'm a grief counselor. And I know things have not been said to you about what's happening now...so let me begin with this. John Parker's(Amber's friend) remains have been identified...his father, sister, and cousin discovered him this morning...as they have never met Amber, they couldn't positively ID the young woman's remains." Nancy paused for a moment to let this information sink in. "Once the scene has been cleared, David," she said looking at Dad Peck, "we'll need you to identify the young woman, that we are positive is your missing Amber."
To say this moment changed my life, is an epic understatement. Her words caused a cellular breakdown within me. I was shot out of the rabbit hole like a cannonball, and shattered through the looking glass all at once. Nothing was the same, and absolutely nothing made sense.
"How could this possibly be? The sky is blue, the sun is a brilliant ball of light..." I couldn't believe that Am was dead, because there was no way the world could look that joyful when I was in that much pain. It was inconceivable.
I was switched off, I couldn't even say I was numb, because even that would have been a feeling. A dreadful weight burrowed its way to my chest, latched on to my heart and pissed on my soul. I couldn't breathe...and all I could think was, "how am I going to tell Amanda? How???" She and Amber had been friends since they were 5, and we were all 26. 21 years they were friends - sisters. Its impossible to explain how that felt - still feels - to have to give someone such gut wrenching, heart breaking news - it was more than a pound of flesh that was taken from me, it was rips and shreds of my soul. Those invisible pieces of myself were never returned, and in those months after I didn't care if I ever got them back. I became a waif, and a shallow empty husk - I had no use for spirit of any kind.
Present Day:
It will be five years that Am's been gone when January 4th rolls in. This year I don't feel the pressing heaviness I have in the past, but I find myself flitting along like a strobing stick figure in a flip book. No matter how I try to burst from the page, I can't seem to escape the sights and sounds that altered the course of my life forever. The phoenix fire has gotten tiresome - the cycle of flames to ash - for once I would like to remain whole long enough to get my bearings.
But such is life....
