My sister, Essa asked me if I knew anything about what happened to Ladonna, and I said no why? and she told me, she was killed today in a carwreck, hit by a drunk driver.  My world stopped, I was 16, Ladonna was only 17, people are'nt suppose to die that young, not good people, all the memories crowded my mind, blending in with all the unanswerable questions, whats going to happen now? I felt alone, Whose going to help me make that butterscotch cake next week?

 

The wreck happened only 1/4 mile from her home, where she lived with her mom, dad, brother, and sister, they were poor, just like me, but our church helped them out alot, because Ladonna was a member and apart of all of our lives.

I went to church that sunday, riding the bus just like all the other times, and I cried when we drove right passed Ladonna's house, we should have been stopping to pick her up,  The bus driver drove by slowly, looking back at us other kids, trying to hold back the tears, he looked quickly back at the road, The bus driver had lost his 16 year old daughter in a wreck with a drunk driver two months before that. 

I went to school, Monday, and everything seemed so different, Ladonna wasn't there, and some of the kids were so cruel, some boy was making fun of Ladonna's last name, and I couldn't understand how anyone could be so cruel, I cried, I couldn't help myself, the teacher, Mrs. Snyder was very sympathic, she excused me from class, but the home-ed teacher wasn't, she told me that, she was sorry for the loss but we must continue to live, and it wouldn't be for another 20 years before I'd come to learn that very lesson in life.

I told the teacher that I forgot my recipe for the butterscotch cake, I left it in my locker, and she excused me to go get it, so I walked slowly to my locker, thinking, I can't do it by myself, Ladonna was my cooking partner, and I can't do it by myself, how could I get out of this, I thought.  I retreived the recipe from my locker and started back to the home-ed building, I remember the blue sky with little white puffy clouds dotted across it, I prayed for a way out, I took a deep breath and thats when I heard my name, I looked around and no one was there, then I heard Ladonna say, "your not alone, Vida" I felt a great deal of relief at that moment, but I was still very confused as I walked into the door of the home-ed building.

I stepped inside the door and the teacher told me that three girls had volunteered to help me bake the cake, and at that time, I knew Ladonna had somehow arranged it.  We made the cake and it turned out perfect, I was reluctant to taste it, but I did, that was the last time I ever cooked or tasted a butterscotch cake.  To this day, butterscotch, according to me, does not belong in pie or cake form.

Tuesday was Ladonna's funeral, it was a beautiful white casket, laced with flowers, I could see the top part of her face from where I was sitting, I could see her beautiful big smile, but when it came time to walk up to the casket, I couldn't, I turned around and ran out the door, and hid myself in amongst some bushes that had a clearing in the middle.  I remember sitting there, crying, sobbing out loud, but then, a voice came to me, it was Ladonna's voice, "its okay now, you'll never be alone" My sobs stopped, my tears stopped as I said to myself, "I can't do this" but then I heard Ladonna's voice, tell me again that "its going to be okay, I'm happier than ever now."

For afew weeks after the funeral, I use to have dreams of Ladonna lying in her casket, and then lifting up and smiling really big, it wasn't a scary dream, but a very comforting dream, because I knew she was truely happy now.  I remember all the things we use to do together, and talk about.  When my kids were old enough to hear the story of Ladonna, I told them, I used her for the example of what drinking and driving does to a person, and each time I tell the story, I cry, because, even though time makes the wound heal, theres still a scar, that will forever be there on my heart.

This story is true, and is forever edged in the corner of my memory, some days it seems like only yesterday when we did all those goofy things at Falls Creek, and do singing specials at church, I can still remember her laughter, and her smile, her long blond hair getting in her face.  I do believe she's one of my gaurdian angels.