Watching my mom die after we unplugged her from life support was a biggie.
The other one was I was once married. We were having problems. She came by the house one evening and handed me divorce papers. My Dad came by about an hour later to spend the night on his way through Flagstaff on his was to Idaho. I didn’t tell him what had just happened. He left the next morning and was killed in a car accident 4 hours later in Southern Utah.
I went the following morning to retrieve his belongings. I stopped by the mortuary in Kanab, unannounced, to sign papers and then asked to see his body. They gave me a few minutes but when I was escorted in, I saw things I probably shouldn’t have seen. I then left the mortuary to go to his vehicle, and had to climb inside his crushed cab to get everything out, seeing his blood everywhere, getting it on my hands and clothes.
I was on autopilot by this point from the previous 24 hours of my life, and didn’t think to wash my hands.
I hadn’t realized I had his blood all over me until I was about an hour into that that several hour drive back to Flagstaff. And if you have ever driven Hwy 89 between Flagstaff and Page, it is desolate 100 plus miles. No gas stations but 2.
Thank you 8snake for bringing up this topic.
Like many, I am still dealing with those memories and probably have PTSD from it. But I have been told dealing with those issues is the only way to put it behind you.
Last edited by flagstaff; 09/21/22.
