4 Months

Today I clocked out of my shift at the hospital and felt the need to come sit under your leaf on the Tree of Life. I delivered two boys today. Two boys born 4 months to the day since your attack. My deliveries on the 28th always hold extra significance to me.

4 months ago tonight I got the call that would forever change our lives. Your mom called my phone at 10:31pm and I could instantly tell something was not right. Through a cracking voice she tearfully told me she had gotten a call that you had been jumped at a party. She tried to explain that you were being taken to Chandler Regional Medical Center and that they were doing CPR on you. Uncle Nate and I immediately jumped in the truck and rushed to the hospital. As we drove, I went through possible scenarios in my mind. As a nurse, I know Chandler is a trauma center, but I couldn’t fathom how being jumped led to CPR. My mind kept assuring me that part of the story had to have been an exaggeration and I would walk in to find you beat up, but not lifeless on a ventilator.

The days that would follow are a blur, a life flight, an ICU room, doctors in white coats in and out all with the same blank look on their face and the same answer….”no change, there is nothing we can do”

P in the last 4 months you have shaken this community to its core. You have lit this valley up in solidarity for holding those who did this to you accountable. You have reopened cases, let other victims names being known and gotten justice for other families. It is sad that it takes a horrific event like this to shapes us as a community in ways we would not have otherwise be shaped. In the waiting you have rallied a troop and created a movement.

I drive down the road daily and see orange construction ribbons blowing in the breeze tied around fences, poles and trees. My heart feels so much warmth that I know was sent directly from the person who took the time out of their day to tie it there. I sit in the pick up lane in front of Aubree’s junior high school and see the orange bracelets around students wrists as they walk out of the building for the day and know the child wearing it does that in remembrance of you.

There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t wake up wondering how this is real life???

Most days my mind reels through emotions of sadness, disbelief and anger. This feels like a life sentence. It’s not just a normal death and grieve. It is a real life nightmare …every… single… day. It doesn’t feel fair that you aren’t here. It isn’t fair we have to try to live life normally after you were taken from us so tragically. It isn’t fair the boys who did this to you are still walking around and not behind bars. And it isn’t fair that the humans those boys were given as parents have not parented or chosen to do the right thing.

There is no “why” sufficient enough to fill the darkness where you would be standing. There is no verse, no words, no quote eloquent enough to make what happened to you ok. As one, the community is lighting candles, walking, wearing orange, tying ribbons around trees, painting rocks, holding fundraisers, demanding justice, marching and crying out #justice4prestonlord

You my nephew, have made a greater impact on this world in 16 short years, than most people do in a lifetime.

Keep shaking it up and bringing light to the darkness.

Xo,

Auntie

—Written by Melissa Lord