Some of you have
wondered if it was possible to hear more about what happened to David, and to
all of us on December 9. The details of
that day are hard to think about, but they are important to us as it is a day that
none of us will ever forget. This is
from Mom’s journal, that she has agreed to share:
On that Friday morning as I got out of the shower at about
7:15, Bruce told me that my phone had rung. Assuming it was work, I checked for
a message and when there wasn’t one, I redialed the number listed on missed
calls. It was the answering message at intermountain Medical Center. I told
Bruce and he responded that it was probably something about my mother. I began
to dress quickly and the phone rang again.
The voice on the phone introduced himself and then asked if
I was the parent of David Kenney. When I responded, yes, he continued that
David had been in a car accident and been brought in to their ER. He then
continued to say that he was in unstable condition and that they needed the
family to come in immediately. I turned to Bruce and voiced to him, "it's
David." The social worker asked if I had a number for his wife and I responded that I did, but to
please let us contact her.
We dressed quickly, concerned, but no idea of the
seriousness. As we left, I called upstairs to Nicky and told her that David had
been in an accident and Dad and I were headed to the hospital and would let her
know when we knew anything. Once we were in the truck and headed down 106th
South, Bruce dialed Cristina's number. She didn't answer. He waited a few
minutes and dialed again. When she answered, he told her about the phone call
and that she needed to get the kids up and come to the hospital.
We were greeted at the ER entry and taken to a small room.
There the social worker repeated that there had been an accident on highway 111
and that David had been brought in by ambulance. He reiterated that David was
unstable and had been taken to surgery. He asked about his wife and we said
that she was on her way. About that time our son-in-law, Eric arrived. Nicole
had sent him to help with the children and/or to lend support in any way. Cris
called and asked where in the complex we were and I went out to meet her and
help with Josh and Jazzy.
I met her in the parking lot and she was crying and asked
for me to tell her the truth "is he OK?" I told her all I knew. I
stayed with the children in the outer waiting area while she met with the
Social Worker, Bruce and Erik. Almost immediately I could hear her
sobbing. I wondered later, if she
understood more about what was said than I did.
Erik left to take the kids back to our home for Nicole to
watch and he planned to go on to work. I think Bruce called Alex and Nicki must
have started calling the others. We were taken to the surgery waiting room.
Very soon the "rounding nurse" came and took us into a side room and
explained that it was a severe head injury, he had lost a lot of blood and that
the surgery could take up to several hours, but the best of brain surgeons were
working on him.
Not too much longer and they realized we would have more
family arriving and so we were taken to a large meditation room. At some point
the social worker had gotten a number for Cristina's family and was contacting
them. I remember thinking it was bit early to call them since we didn't really
know anything.
People started arriving - Alex was there and then all of a
sudden Kevan was there, and then Nick and before long Wes. I soon saw our Laura
and wondered how everyone knew to come.
We were then told he was out of surgery (so soon?) and we
were taken to a waiting room outside of the trauma ICU. People kept arriving.
Immediate family was taken to a small consultation room and the doctor came in
to talk to us. He started right out saying that he wasn't going to sugar coat
it, and that he had worked on many, many head trauma cases and this was as bad
as any he had ever seen. He told us we could go to him but to be prepared
because his head was very swollen, so it wouldn't look like him. He said it was
important for us to touch him and talk to him.
And so, taking Cristina's arm, Bruce walked us in together.
My immediate thought was, it's all a mistake! That isn't my son! But, everyone
kept coming in and people were crying and I looked around and saw that
apparently it was my David. I walked around to the other side of the bed and
from just one perspective I could see that it was him. My next thought, as I
looked at his wrapped head (there were no other signs of injury) was my boy and
his beautiful mind, his extremely intelligent brain, what would he be like now?
A chair was brought for me, where I sat for the next 30
hours, scarcely leaving his side. Shortly, there was a conversation between
Bruce and Erik regarding getting Cristina's parents here. The nurse looked at Bruce and said "yes,
they need to come." I thought, easy for you to say, you don't have to pay
for it. A little later I found myself alone in the room with the nurse and I
said to her, "are you saying he's gone?" She responded, "oh yes,
honey, he isn't going to come back."
When Bruce retuned, I told him what the nurse had said, and
he came over to me and held me and said he knew, that he really knew when the
doctor told us that it was as bad as he had ever seen. And so began my vigil. I
held his hand and sang Baby Mine to him throughout that day, that night and the
next day until he was pronounced brain dead.
During those hours people came and went. Liz arrived from
Vegas, having driven up alone as soon as she knew it was serious. Ben arrived
from Hawaii early the next morning. We were continually receiving messages from
loved ones, across the country and that his name was in the just as many
temples.
The nurses still seemed to be doing things to keep him
alive, hydrated and breathing. For about another 12 hours he was still
occasionally taking a deep breath on his own, that would cause his whole body
to shake and tremble. Occasionally a tear would slide out of the corner of his
eyes and slide down his cheeks.
I remember looking up from his bedside and out into the hallway.
There would always be little groups of people huddled together, hugging each
other and weeping. I remember seeing my brothers standing with their sons by
their sides each of them holding on to their sons for dear life. That
afternoon, Josh was brought to the hospital to say goodbye to his dad. Just as
David would have been at that age, he was way more interested in all the
machinery, equipment and tubes going in and out of his sleeping dad's body.
At some point we received a short police report regarding
the accident. At approx. 6:20 in the morning, David was stopped for a red light
on highway 111. As the light turned green, some animals (deer) walked in front
of the car, and David did not proceed. Behind him, a man in a 3/4 ton pick-up
saw only that the light was green and continued into the intersection at full
speed. There were two eye witnesses working at the convenience store that
called 911. It was felt that David never knew what happened and he never
regained consciousness.
Once we all realized that he was gone, we began the process
for organ donation. Bruce and Cristina worked with the team in completing what
had to be done. Eventually the final
tests were completed and he was declared dead at 5:00 pm on December 10, 2011.
At that time we gathered as a family one last time. We sang a hymn. We had a
prayer and then we left his mortal remains to be harvested to bless the lives
of others through the miracles of modern day science.
The following days were a blur of activity, seen and
remembered only through a blur of tears. We did the physical things that had to
be done. We were the recipients of many acts of service and kindness in our
time of need. Food just seemed to pour in for all 50 of us and plants and
flowers kept arriving. The cousins all started arriving from out of state
(thanks to Kriss and Ed for sharing their sky miles) and they were all
invaluable in their many ways of assisting us.
Our darling little Cristina was not doing well. She would
seem to have it together and then lose it all in a post-traumatic stress event.
I was no help to anyone. My husband and other children were somehow strong and
able to carry on. Liz and Ben's families arrived and we all just wanted to be
together.
We were blessed with some special and sacred
experiences that began to help us accept and understand what we were going
through. The spirit was strong in our homes and among us. Various members of
the family had their own witness that our Heavenly Father and his son, Jesus
Christ, knew of our earthly pain and what we were going through.
As for me, my life, as I knew it, was forever changed. I now
knew what it meant to truly have a broken heart. However, in all my pondering
and tears, I consider that I was the recipient of at least two tender mercies.
I never once felt anger towards the man driving that truck that took my son's
life and I never questioned God, saying, "why me?"
I have seen a grief counselor for several sessions. I have
read many recommended books. I have pondered and prayed. I have talked with my
Bishop and even Elder Koelliker. I am currently participating in a grief
program for children with my Joshie. I was the direct recipient of someone else's
spiritual gift, wherein I was given direct answers to some of my questions.
During this time my children and their spouses and my wonderful husband have
been there to support me when I needed them to lean on and to actually hold me
up at times so that I can go on.
Today, I know that I will be OK. We have a great blessing in
that our Cris and David's very good friend, Wes Felix, have found peace and
comfort in each other, which has grown into love and are planning an August
wedding. People are surprised when they hear and I am able to say
unequivocally, that this is right. That this is simply a further step in a plan
of which we are a part. Wes is a fine, honorable man that we will be proud to
call our son, and father to our grandchildren. Our Cristina is stronger, also,
and she continues to bring us happiness and joy as we remember how much
happiness her love brought to our son.
I know that I must continue to find happiness in my day to
day life, because that is absolutely what David would want. Yes, my future has
forever been changed. In the beginning "it" was always there right in
front of my eyes. Then "it" seemed to be on a shelf, where I would
look at it, ponder, cry and then move on. Now, 5 months later, it is mostly
closed behind a cupboard door. Then out
of the blue, something will be said or something happen to cause me to open the
door, see "it", then cry a few tears and then hold a memory in my
heart for just a moment and then quietly close the door until the next time.
