TEXARKANA MAGAZINE
Life in the After
T oday, years after the day the world stopped for Jessica’s family, life has not gone “back to normal.” It has moved forward into something else; something different. This family is marked by something unimaginable, and it did change them, but it did not break them. It strengthened their family and brought them even closer together. Jessica attributes her faith and trust in God for carrying her through the past five years. “There is a constant battle between good and evil in this world that we don’t see,” she said. “And I know that God didn’t do this.” Though the worst days have grown less frequent with time, Jessica says the grief is still very real. Every day, something about Reagan still hits her—an image, a memory, a passing thought, and for a moment, she said, “It will take my breath away.” Yet even as grief has reshaped her life, Jessica finds that joy still comes. Kynlee, now eight, continues to be a living link to her mother. “Kynlee,” Jessica said with a soft laugh. “Oh, that kid—she’s a mess. She is so much like Reagan.” Jessica sees it everywhere: in Kynlee’s attitude and the way her little nostrils flare when she’s irritated. The resemblance is striking. Kynlee is a reminder not of all that Jessica lost, but of everything that remains. The child who survived that unimaginable day brings life back into the spaces grief once emptied. “We remind her [Kynlee] all the time what a good mommy she had. We would be doing an injustice to Reagan if we didn’t.” When asked about what she would tell someone else walking through impossible loss, Jessica doesn’t offer anything tidy or neat. She talks about wonderful counseling at the Children’s Advocacy Center. She talks about the importance of not being alone, about talking, and letting yourself
grieve. She said, “You’re going to grieve off and on for the rest of your life. You have to let yourself.” As strong as she is, Jessica says this changed who she was at the core. She says where she used to be more open and welcoming, now she prefers to keep her family circle closed. “I used to be super outgoing. I’d welcome anybody. And now, … I am so cautious.” She doesn’t like the impact it has had on her and the family. “Everybody is suspect, and I hate being that way.” It is not how she was before, and it is not how she raised her kids. “I’m not as kind as I used to be. I’m not as forgiving as I used to be, not as patient as I used to be. Nothing about me is the same, nothing.” “But,” she continued, “that’s life afterwards.” Crisp feels that divide, too. “There are events in the course of life that mark seasons and serve to divide time—events by which you measure all other occasions. This is one of those life events for me.” Crisp said. “There was before Taylor Parker and then, fortunately, thankfully, after…” “Reagan was strong; she was a fighter...,” Crisp said. “She loved her family with a fierce loyalty that all of us appreciate. When I think about Reagan, I think about a mother’s love. Which, if you’ve spent any time with Jessica, you know exactly where Reagan learned it.” Crisp remembers the impact not only on herself and Reagan’s family, but on the community as well. “Bowie County will never be the same,” she said. She still gets regular comments from the public about how this case changed their day-to-day routines. “Women will tell me they didn’t go out alone when they were pregnant, they no longer buy used baby toys or clothes on social media because they won’t meet up with a stranger. The most common comment I get is that people aren’t
comfortable sharing the wonderful news of a pregnancy on social media for fear someone will come after them.” Relationships forged in tragedy carry a different weight than other connections. “There will never be a single day I don’t feel a personal responsibility to Reagan and her family,” Crisp noted. “It is the honor of my lifetime to have served as the lead prosecutor on this case.” For Cindy, Jessica’s mother, the loss has come in layers. “As a mom,” she said, “one of my biggest fears was losing one of my children.” What made the loss especially crushing was the helplessness that followed. “I’m the Mama,” she said softly. “I’m supposed to fix things.” But this was something no mother could repair. And as a grandmother, the grief was multiplied, mourning her granddaughter and great- granddaughter while watching her own daughter, Jessica, endure an agony she could not take away. In the days and months that followed, the family leaned heavily on their faith. “God was all we had to depend on,” Cindy said. Yet even in the most profound grief, something unexpected happened: Their circle grew tighter. “It brought our family and friends closer,” she said. Even now, years later, someone will sense when another is struggling. “It’s like we just know,” Cindy said. “We start a group text or a group call.” Their grief, though heavy, became shared, carried together rather than alone. When Reagan’s younger sister, Emily, got married, the absence was overwhelming. Reagan should have been standing beside her as matron of honor. Instead, the family placed a photograph and a bouquet where Reagan would have been, a silent reminder of their loss. Later, when Emily became pregnant, joy and fear collided. “It was hard to feel excited,” Cindy admitted. Though
54
LIFE & STYLE
Made with FlippingBook - Online catalogs