On July 23, 2011 I lost my sister, Rayma Lea Adams Harchar, in a violent car crash. One minute she was vibrantly alive, laughing and talking, the next she was gone.
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Rayma was so upbeat. She was a fixer; her driving cause was to fix what was wrong–whether it was a school district, a student’s home situation, or a neighbor in need of emotional or financial support. There were many times when she and John donated a bed, furniture, clothes, etc. to families in need. She won grants for her Hispanic population at Larkin Bailey Elementary in Owasso, OK, as well as other grants for the school. For that matter, her husband, John, is very generous. He and Rayma both got really involved in giving school supplies to students in need in Honduras when we went on a cruise. (I’ll never forget that long, interesting trip up that river, and how all the children and their families got in their canoes to meet us). I know he will continue to help those in need, either spiritually, emotionally or financially. John, too, is a wonderful principal and educator.
Whenever either of us got down, she would remind me of how blessed we were. None of our family are maimed or crippled. None of our children were on illegal drugs or had been in incarcerated. We had never suffered a tragic death. Until now.
Rayma was a wonderful teacher, principal and superintendent. She was a professor at both Southeastern Louisiana University (SELU) and University of Louisiana at Lafayette (ULL). Her kindness, wisdom and eagerness to help everyone she met touched so many lives. You can see the outpouring of love and sorrow from all over on her Facebook. When she was a superintendent, she would welcome everyone, in particular, the students. She instructed her staff to call her if she was away and she would be there. Please visit aboutrayma.wordpress.com for stories about her. She was very special. We talked nearly every day; we depended on each other for support.
Then on Sunday, July 23, my husband and I were driving home to Oklahoma from California where we had been visiting relatives. We had just left Flagstaff, Arizona when I got the call from my mother-in-law whom we’d left that morning. (By the way, I married my sister’s husband’s brother, which makes our children double cousins.) My mil said that a paramedic had called to tell her that John and Rayma had been in a car accident but that he was okay. She misunderstood him to say “they” were okay.
At the time, I was writing in the car on my Medieval romance novel. I thought that was strange for the paramedic to call only to say they were “fine.” My mil said she asked where they were, and he said they were still at the accident site taking care of minor scratches, etc., and that a hospital visit probably wouldn’t be necessary. But he wouldn’t give details, and refrained from mentioning Rayma at all. Thinking that was strange, I sensed an impending doom, like a heavy blanket thrown over me, and I couldn’t write. I called Rayma’s and John’s youngest daughter, Karla, to tell her and ask if she knew anything, but I couldn’t get in contact with her. She and her husband had taken their kids to Pike’s Peak, and she had no cell service up there. I called my daddy, who said he would try to get information from the Hammond, Louisiana hospital, which is where they would take Rayma and John if they were hurt.
The following 90 minutes was the most agonizing block of time I have ever experienced. I called Justin, Karla’s husband, but his answering machine picked up just like it did with Karla’s cell. I left a message with him, too. Justin received my message and they finally got to a town where they had service, and started calling. They tried getting the hospital to tell them what was happening, but they wouldn’t tell Karla or Justin anything. The personnel kept transferring them to different departments. In the meantime, my mil got the call that John was fine with minor scratches, but that Rayma didn’t make it. They had to use the Jaws of Life to get her out of the truck, and when they got to her, she still had a pulse so they tried to resuscitate her, but she was gone. I had to be the one to tell Karla.
Although I still wake up thinking it was a horrible dream, only to realize it is true, I know my dear sister is in a better place. “In My Father’s house are many rooms; if it were not so, I would have told you. I am going there to prepare a place for you. And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back and take you to be with Me that you also may be where I am.” John 14:2-3 (NIV)
I found the following scriptures from a woman who had lost her son. Click here to see all of her comments:
- Psalms 31:9–O’ Lord have mercy on me in my anguish. My eyes are red from weeping; my health is broken from sorrow.
- Psalms 147:3– He heals the broken heartened, binding up their wounds.
- Matthew 5:4–Blessed are those that mourn, for they shall be comforted.
- John 14:27–I am leaving you with a gift-peace of mind and heart! And the peace I give is not fragile like the peace the world gives. So don’t be troubled or afraid.
- John 14:18–No, I will not abandon you or leave you as orphans in the storm-I will come to you.
- Psalm 46:1–God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in times of trouble.
- Psalms 30:5b–Weeping may endure for the night, but joy comes in the morning.
- John 16:33–I have told you these things so that you will have peace of heart and mind, Here on earth you will have many trials and sorrows, but cheer up, for I have overcome the world…
