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The Car

August 16, 2016

Your paracarditis is back, says the doctor. As if my heart needs one more thing to help it feel as if it can't take another beat. 
In addition, I fell pretty hard after having blood work done yesterday. So, since the day pretty much sucked all ready, I came home and decided to make the calls to the tow yard and the highway patrol (don't ask why, but they originally took her to one highway patrol jurisdiction and her car to another almost an hour apart) so, we got the letter to call the 2nd office and deal with who was going to pick up the crumbled metal that was once her car. 
I spoke to a super nice guy who has a niece named Alexa, so each time he'd say Alexa he'd choke up a bit. I told him to just say Lexie, and he couldn't do that much easier because his nieces nickname is Lexie. It helped to have someone a little raw instead of just hearing the same old recited words everyone else has been using. I felt some comfort. It reminded me that her nickname was supposed to be Allie, never Lexie. 
I called the insurance company and finally the tow yard. The woman answering the phone was kind, amazingly kind. She told me not to come look at the car. No mom wants to see this. Just know there's nothing in that car. She obviously had looked through. I felt peace, knowing it was the right thing, not to have my besties go search through the metal, as each one had offered multiple times. This kind woman was put on phone duty yesterday, for a reason. I believe that. I hope that tow company realizes how grateful I am for having her talk me through the process. It's a horrific duty, these phone calls to different offices. I've had to talk to 3 mortuaries because of the location of the accident. 
I believe the tasks are overwhelming so that my heart can focus on getting the tasks completed rather than the thought that my spunky baby girl is forever gone. It's easier to do the task than sit and realize she's forever not going to walk through my front door.

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