June 3, 2002...Nine Years Ago Today

It was a Monday night…

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Upon arriving home, following a Dominican Republic Missions Trip meeting at my pastor’s house, I found the following note on the kitchen counter of the condo Brenda and I had shared since 1997:  “Honey, Had to go do stuff.  See you in a while.  Love you—B.”

Five minutes later, Brenda’s therapist, Barb, called me to tell me that a police officer would be showing up at my front door soon.  Barb went on to say that Brenda was somewhere in her jeep and that she’d taken all her meds.  The police officer arrived, talked with me for a while, and then got a search going for Brenda’s jeep.
 
Fairfax County Homicide took the case two days later.  It felt very strange to give them my computer and let them go through all the details of my life with Brenda.  I suppose with any missing persons case, family members are automatically scrutinized.  They were, of course, just doing their jobs.  They didn't know me from Adam.  Even though I harbor no bitterness, I don't want to go through anything like that ever again.  The local newspapers were not particularly helpful either.  (Reston, VA, is a fairly small community.)

After the officer left, I called my pastor (Father Jim Papile, Rector, St. Anne’s Episcopal Church, Reston, VA, http://www.stannes-reston.org/) to tell him what was going on.  He came over to my place, and we talked for a couple of hours.  I remember telling him that Brenda was probably somewhere peaceful where no child would be able to see her.  After Jim left (it was probably close to midnight), I went to bed, only to wake up at around 2am and begin searching for Brenda myself.

I looked for her for ten days.

During that time, I called her cell and work phones repeatedly just to hear her voice.   It was the most difficult and absolutely heart wrenching ten days of my life.  Brenda was out there somewhere.  Exposed.  And I wanted to find her, if only just to preserve her dignity.

I focused on residential areas during the day, and business/commercial areas at night.  During the day, I figured that residential areas would clear out, and, late at night, I figured the same would be true of business and commercial areas.  I enlisted the help of an army of friends to search for Brenda.  FCPD Homicide conducted their own independent search (of course), and I was in regular contact with them. Tom Flannigan, the homicide detective I worked with, was fabulous.  It was probably the first time I'd ever known a homicide detective and, most certainly, the first time I'd ever nearly become friends with one.

In the end, it was a friend of mine who found Brenda on the back seat of her jeep on Thursday night, June 13, 2002.  I’d driven by Brenda’s location at least twice in my search for her.  She died in her jeep ¼ mile from the front door of our condo.  The location she was in was surrounded by tall pines and overlooked a garden trellis.  Her jeep sat up high and faced a western sky.  I like to think that she watched the sunset just before she climbed into the back seat of her jeep to lie down for that last time.

In God’s providence, I didn’t see Brenda's jeep the times I’d driven within 30 yards of it during my search.  I never saw Brenda's body (and, most fortunately, don't carry those images with me) and never really got the chance to say that final good-bye.  I did see her jeep once before my insurance company "totaled" it (for reasons that I probably don’t need to explain).  A part of me died the night of Brenda's memorial service (June 27, 2002).  I’ve never been the same.  How could something like this not change me?  Perhaps even fundamentally?
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The above is an excerpt taken from something I wrote several years ago.  The full version is provided in the February 6, 2011, blog post entitled, “Brenda.”  If you want to read the entire post, just click on the link below…

http://theoilsofmygladness.blogspot.com/2011/02/brenda-hollis-my-story.html

Tonight, I’m celebrating the life, death, and resurrection of my dear friend and sister, Brenda Kay Hollis (9/29/66-6/3/02).  At the time of her death, Brenda and I had been married for 10 years, 7 months, and 8 days.  And none of that time was wasted.

And none since then has either.  All of it has been redeemed in some way.

At times, my life has been exceedingly painful and difficult, but, overall, it’s been a fabulous ride thus far.   Many speak of hitting rock bottom.  I know the place of which they speak.  I’ve been there, and you know what?  I can testify to the fact that it really is solid.  The reason being is because God is there.  He is the God of Rock Bottoms, and I am so grateful to have had His Presence in my life through all that I have suffered.

Today, I am indeed, the happiest person I know, and I attribute all of it to the grace of God in my life.

In celebration of Brenda’s life and of all that she gave me, I’m going to stop writing for now, go work my heavy bag for a while, and then have some birthday cake out on my porch.  Yep…birthday cake!!  Brenda’s death was, in fact, her birthday into the life that awaits all of us who share the same hope that she had in Jesus.  One fine day, a grand reunion will take place, and oh what a day that will be!

God’s blessings on all’y’all, tonight,

Daver