The Day that Changed Our Lives

She had pale skin, green eyes and freckles. She looked different from me and our other siblings. Shaylin took after my dad’s side of the family, while the other four of us looked more like my mom, who is half-Mexican and has dark hair and eyes. My little sister was a sweet 21-year-old student who died on her first snowmobile ride, minutes after she’d taken off down the trail in El Dorado County, California.

 When I heard the phone ring at 2:00 a.m., I knew in my heart that someone had died. My dad told us to come over and to plan on spending the night at their house. He didn’t want to tell us over the phone what had happened. As soon as my husband and I left our apartment, we began to pray.

“Lord, give us the strength and peace for whatever we’re about to find out. Help us be anchors for my family,” I prayed aloud as we walked to the car. 

My brother answered the door when we got to the house. He was a senior in high school and living at the house with my parents and my other sister, a freshman in high school. I saw my mom in her robe, which confused me. In the back of my mind, I thought we might have lost my mom, because heart problems run in her family.

 I was shocked when I had found out that it was my middle sister who had died. My thought process wasn’t making sense at the time; I imagined that Shaylin was safe, because she was living in California with another sister. She was a perfectly healthy size 2, an athletic girl who had been a college soccer player during her freshman year. My dad told us the horrible and shocking story. 

“She was on a snowmobile. It left the trail and plunged off a cliff, hitting a tree. She suffocated in the snow,” he said. By the time her boyfriend and guides found her that evening, she had been buried in the snow and was unconscious. Her boyfriend attempted CPR, but administered it wrong, pumping air into her stomach and not her lungs.

 At this point in my life I didn’t even know what a snowmobile was and my brain couldn’t acknowledge the fact that she was really gone. I held out hope that she was only missing and that the authorities had identified the wrong person. In fact, until my parents flew to California and visited the morgue, I was living in denial, hoping against hope that everyone was wrong.

 I had almost called my sister earlier that afternoon to see if she wanted to chip in for my parents’ 30th anniversary present, which was to take place in four days. As the oldest child, I always felt that it was my responsibility to collect funds and buy the present. For some reason, I didn’t call, and, of course, later, wish I had. I longed for just one more conversation with my sister.

 She hadn’t been expected home that last Christmas. She had bought a last-minute ticket home for Christmas break, surprising my parents. My mom was thrilled! We had no way of knowing that ten days after Christmas was Shaylin’s last day on Earth.

 The last time I saw Shaylin was right before she was leaving for her flight back to San Jose, California.

“Please don’t leave. I love you,” I said as I gave her a hug and a big sloppy kiss on the cheek. Shaylin was my little buddy. We shared clothes. She walked like me and her eyes drooped like mine when she’d take a big bite of something to eat.

 She replied that she needed to go back. We talked a little more, although I will never forget the last words I heard her say before saying goodbye, “I love the snow.”

 Earlier that day, I had experienced a feeling of dread while standing behind her chair as she checked her email. I had a fear that her plane might crash. Well, her plane made it safely to California and I didn’t think about contacting her until a couple of days later when I wanted to buy my parents’ anniversary gift.

Shaylin lived her life as a Christian and is living with Jesus right now. She left behind many signs of her faith and trust in Jesus. On her cell phone, she had programmed her display to read, “I will follow.” We’re sure that if she had had more room, it would have ended with, “Him.” She had recently begun a Bible study and had made many incredible entries. On October 20, 2002 she had written, “No one lives forever. It’s time to shape up until we are in His Kingdom.” She didn’t know that in less than three months, on January 4, 2003, she would be in His Kingdom.

The Bible tells us that God is preparing a place for us with Him. I’ve never doubted that and the following verses have helped me in my time of grief:

 “So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen. For what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal. Now we know that if the early tent we live in is destroyed, we have a building from God, an eternal house in heaven, not built by human hands.” 2 Corinthians 4:18, 5:1.

 As my family grieved, we each went through different stages at different times. We experienced anger, shock, and sadness, but we never lost our faith. At this point, my faith became much stronger. I have learned to think of Earth as my temporary home and I have been motivated to find out how to be used by God while I’m here. I want my life to be meaningful.

 I’ve also had several dreams throughout the years of my little sister. She’s always happy and I’ve heard her laughing as she runs, twirls, and enjoys her new life. That has been a comfort to me, especially when I get to hug her and have conversations with her in my dreams.

 My dad’s grief led him to take legislative action. He flew to California and contacted legislators asking for safety regulations in the snowmobile industry. Assemblyman Leland Yee drafted AB 1818, to address snowmobile safety issues. The bill was quickly passed and then sent to the State Senate where it was vetoed by then-governor, Arnold Schwarzenegger, due to the safety requirements being “too vague” for effective enforcement.

 If the bill had passed, it would have required snowmobile rental companies to provide a safety training course, a guide who has completed a CPR class, and basic safety equipment such as: a lightweight shovel, flashlight, flashlight charger, and helmet.

 Although, my sister’s life was snuffed out that January night, it is our hope that snowmobile safety will improve and that her death will not be in vain. Hundreds of people lose their lives each year due to snowmobile accidents, so this situation is still critical. Now, it’s my turn to step up and seek action. I contacted the current governor of California, Jerry Brown, to request his assistance with getting the bill passed. Nine years is too long to wait. So far there has been no reply.

Psalm 116:15 says, "The Lord's loved ones are precious to him; it grieves him when they die." (New Living Translation)