Dear Dave,
You were hit by a drunk driver last night. I can't believe it and don't want to. I was home making cake and putting up decorations when you, Lindsay and baby Cora were being slammed head-on by a car with a drunk man behind the wheel. I imagine you throwing yourself over Cora in her carseat as Lindsay stared into the oncoming headlights and made the best decision of her life, turning one way and not the other. Probably not even having time for her heart to start racing before being hit. I heard that you were screaming, "no" and what must've you been thinking? About Lindsay and Cora I'm sure. I heard you got out of the car and fell to the ground. I heard you were groaning in pain. I heard you were life-flighted and intubated. That you bled so much in your belly that they couldn't close you up after surgery because of the amount of swelling in your abdomen.I heard you could squeeze Lindsay's hand and that when they brought in Cora for you to see, you reached out your hand to her. I called Dad today to see if he new anymore, and I heard your voice. I forgot that you made his voicemail message for him. I had to call back one more time to hear your voice. I turned up the volume and listened hard. When Mom got the news that you were even worse off than we thought, I cried and cried and cried. I couldn't stop picturing what you must've looked like in that bed. It reminded me of the time when I was a teenager, giving a talk in church about Christ and I told the audience how when I needed to remember how important He was, I would picture one of my brothers up on the cross. I broke down when I told that part, and I broke down today when I remembered that. I cried so hard that I finally fell asleep. When I woke up, I didn't want to ever move again. I wanted to stay in that exact spot, looking out the window and remembering growing up with you. How much you used to make me laugh and how much I looked up to you. I thought of how you are a friend to everyone you meet and how much I want to be your friend. I thought of how much you've changed since you've had Cora and how in love you and Lindsay are. I pictured you in Great Falls, you were my big brother but you were skinny with knobby knees. You had freckles across your nose and weird hair that I thought was so cool. The other day I was making Christmas cookies and I remembered the time when you tried making ginger cookies and you got the sugar messed up with the salt and covered the tops with it. You were so mad about it that you tried to make me eat them anyway. I thought that I should send you the same cookies this year and not say anything until you called me because you had taken a bite. I wish I had made you those cookies. I thought about how as I went through this year, one of the hardest of my life, you didn't make me explain things. I pretendeded it was because you were one of the few people who knew my character and knew you didn't have to ask even though I knew you were just trying to respect me and let me talk about it when I was ready. And I never was. Because you are you and I couldn't bring myself to stop pretending and hear disappointment in your voice. Even though I sit here now and realize that I probably wouldn't have anyway. I want the man that hit you guys to be dead. I know it's wrong but I feel that way. I hate him. And I can't stop crying. I feel like you must know that I love you but that you couldn't know how deep my love for you is. The day that Bennett was blessed I sat in the audience and cried so hard. I was crying because I finally had a son, a beautiful perfect child to bless. But I was also crying because you were up there with him. I wanted that so bad and I was so happy that it didn't make you uncomfortable and that you did it happily and willingly. It broke my heart in such a good way. I was so happy that you came to see me in the hospital when I had Ben. I was so proud of you for graduating college and so sad that I couldn't be there. You are so wonderful and I always feel like I don't measure up and I never will. I always want you to be proud of me but I feel like I always fall short. I never knew who to measure myself against or how to love myself because Dad wasn't there and Matt was gone, but I always secretly watched you. The day that you stuck up for me on the bus to Josh Grant made my life. I would think about it all the time. And what it meant to me. I also think often of the day that Don confirmed to me that he did like you more than me and you said "Geeze Don, you didn't have to say that" while I sat there crying. And then you followed me out the door and took me to Kim's where I lived for the next few weeks. It was simple to you but made me feel loved at least a little by one person. I was so young and it was so important to hear you say that. I remember the first time you hugged me. I was sixteen and it was my birthday and you didn't know but it made me cry. Our relationship was tense growing up because of what we had to go through but it wasn't either of our faults. I only knew that, that hug felt so good. I remember one time in 7th grade I raised my hand and told a joke that you told on the school bus. Everyone was silent. It didn't land. Because it wasn't you saying it. Because you were so cool and funny. I was always so proud to be your sister. Even when we fought. The day that you rode your ten-speed into the school gymnasium dressed as Jack Tripper was so fun for me. I didn't think I had ever smiled that big. And when you were the quarterback in highschool, that was the only reason I liked to go to games. I know I should've told you but I was prideful. I hated football but loved to watch you play. You've always been my big brother in every sense of the term. Even when you were rubbing my face in your hairy armpit, or gleaking on me or making me gag by spitting into the air and catching it in your mouth. Five minutes later you could redeem yourself because I loved you so much. Sometimes I didn't want to love you but couldn't help it. And as I grow older, I love you even more. With far away admiration. I am so scared. I hate this moment. That you are lying in a hospital bed alone, only seeing your little family in moments at a time. And I can't do anything. I can't help you, I can't stop the pain or fix you. And I hate it. It leaves me with only one thing to do. To cry. And picture you and think of you and be scared. I love you so much Bavid. Be so strong. Be healthy. Heal. Feel the Savior in the room with you. And Grandpa and Grandma. Amaze the doctors and nurses. Feel the warmth of the prayers being said for you by family and complete strangers. The people who are not eating their food to show the Lord they love you and need you. Look at Linds and feel the power of being her rock and true love. Look at Cora and feel the power of being her one and only Daddy ever. Rest. Sleep. Heal. Be my brother that is stopped by nothing and never ceases to make me proud and in awe. I love you. So much that it hurts this much. Sleep tonight and I will see you tomorrow and you can tell me what you were going to during our phonecall that I was waiting for on Sunday. I can't wait to see your eyes and that scar in your eyebrow and your hairy arms. I love you Bavey Bavid. -Ashley