Good Night Kendrick, I Love You
A Mother’s Journal through Grief
by
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I think when I die I want to know I’m dying. I want a chance to say goodbye and talk to all the people I love and care about. You know, they never really said you could survive. They kept telling us how sick you were, but I never believed you would die. I had so much faith that God would help you get well. Every time they told us you were failing, and even when they didn’t, your life was always tenuous in the hospital. I had this pain in my stomach and heart and a weakness in my legs, but I always believed you would be a miracle. Until that last night that Dad called.
For me, this is one of the hardest parts of my memories. This is when all hope was lost and I knew it was time.
Grandma and I had just gone to bed at Ronald McDonald’s House at midnight. I remember Grandma putting on her pajamas and I was thinking I didn’t want to because I wanted to be able to get up quickly if need be. At 1 a.m. Dad called and said, “I think you better come over,” and I felt a sense of dread.
Grandma and I shot out of bed and said, “Oh, God, no,” and we were each praying our own frantic prayers out loud. As we walked to the hospital we clasped arms. I started singing “How Great thou Art.” When did your spirit leave your body? When we got to the room you were bleeding from somewhere. They were giving you fluids, plasma, blood and platelets to help keep your blood pressure up but you were doing extremely poorly. Blood was coming out of your mouth. Daddy and I took turns suctioning out the blood so it didn’t run down your face. It was horrible to feel you were dying but yet praying and hoping to God that there would be a miracle. At 7 a.m. they decided to do an EEG to check your brain function. They thought seizures may have caused more damage and they thought you may still be having seizures. Then they kicked us out at 7:30 as your life signs started dropping. I could tell by the look on their faces it was not good. We went to the chapel to wait. At 9:45 a.m. the chaplain came in to get us. We knew, or at least I did, that it must be time to say goodbye. Our nightmare . . . can this be real?
The doctor told us right away, “He’s going to die.” I asked the doctor some questions that I don’t even remember and then realized we needed to say goodbye. It, as I look back, was strange. I so gracefully accepted the fact that I needed to say goodbye to you. How could I do that? How could I say goodbye to my only precious son without wailing and screaming and refusing to accept your death, but I did. I told you goodbye. Did you hear us? Was your spirit still there? Or were the machines just keeping your body functioning and warm? You were so beautiful. It was so hard to watch you struggle for 18 days, but it would have all been worth it to have you here. Maybe I am being selfish to want you here with me. After all, heaven is great isn’t it? You lived 13 ½ great years here on earth with people that gave you lots of love. You never have to know the pains of growing up. You were such a great kid. I had no doubt you would grow into an outstanding adult. This life always has challenges and we work through them because we are so tied to this life—and now that you’ve had a taste of heaven you would not want to trade for this world, would you? A mother is always supposed to want what’s best for her son. Are you in the best place for you now? God has healed you, you just aren’t here with us.
Good night Kendrick. I love you, forever.
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About the Book
On the day he registered for eighth grade at his new school in March 1995, six-foot, two-hundred-twenty-pound Kendrick Fincher was followed out of school by the football coach who recognized a good player when he saw him. A few months later, Kendrick left for summer football camp and changed the course of his young life forever. On August 7, 1995—his first day of football practice—Kendrick suffered a heat stroke. For the next eighteen days, his parents watched as he lay in a drug-induced coma fighting for his life. On August 25, 1995, Kendrick died from multi-system organ failure, leaving his parents shocked and traumatized. Desperate for comfort, his mother, Rhonda, began writing heartfelt letters to Kendrick, now shared in her poignant memoir written to help others better understand the grieving process. Through her words to Kendrick, Rhonda learned to face her grief head-on, shares the raw emotions that surfaced daily, and eventually realizes that keeping her own hope alive is what will save her in the end. Good Night Kendrick, I Love You shares one mother’s emotional journey as she slowly learns to live again after losing her beloved son to a tragic and untimely death.
About the Author
Rhonda Fincher earned bachelor’s and master’s degrees from Regis University in Denver. She is co-founder and Executive Director of the Kendrick Fincher Hydration Foundation, which educates children, athletes, and parents on the importance of proper hydration and heat illness prevention. She lives in Rogers, Arkansas, and has three surviving children.