You just have to breathe through the pain

By Jacque Tierce

Danielle Tierce

 Sleepless nights, severe anxiety attacks, uncontrollable crying, deep depression, high blood pressure, nightmares, replaying the past, and daydreaming of what the future could have been are a glimpse at living through the loss of a loved one. Birthdays, holidays, new births, weddings, first days of school, and such are all constant reminders, she’s not here and never will be again. Sometimes you just have to breathe through the pain. A pain that will be there for the rest of your life.

On May 26, 2018, my beautiful daughter, Danielle, made a decision that not only took her life, but flipped life upside down for her entire family and so many friends. She was texting on Snapchat while driving down the highway at 65 mph, didn’t see a semi in front of her that slowed to make a turn, and slammed into the back of it without braking. Thankfully she did not have her 3-year-old son with her and thankfully nobody else was injured, physically anyway.

“I miss my mommy,” her son tells me. Me too buddy, me too. “My mommy had an accident right here,” he says as we drive by the dreaded oil-stained spot on the highway. She has already missed his first day of school, several birthdays, first experience playing baseball, school programs, and countless other events with so many yet to come. All moments Danielle would have been glowing over. Her son was her life. Those opportunities are gone for both Danielle and her son now because of a Snapchat that just couldn’t wait. Now we spend our time trying to keep her memory alive for him, telling “mommy stories,” and breathing through the pain.

I spent the remainder of 2018, all of 2019, and the beginning of 2020 (until COVID hit) traveling around to different schools in Kansas and Oklahoma telling our story. At my side was Shiane Wondra. Shiane’s story is exactly the same as Danielle’s, except Shiane lived through it. “Is it a risk you are willing to take?” - we would ask the students. I would leave each presentation and drive home bawling the entire way, sleep for hours afterwards, and pray we made an impact on at least one! If we can save just one family from going through this pain, it’s worth it.

What is distracted driving? One might think, it’s a text message. While texting and driving is one form of distraction, it’s not the only form. Being distracted is defined by the Merriam-Webster dictionary as, “having one’s thoughts or attention drawn away.” Therefore, anything that takes your eyes or mind off of the road is a distraction.

I cannot tell you the number of live videos, pictures being taken, phone calls being made, or people scrambling around to find something in their car while driving. I STILL have friends that do these things. It’s heartbreaking. Some people just will not get it until they go through it. It can change your entire life, or the life of another, in a matter of seconds.

On our Facebook page, https://www.facebook.com/doit4danielle/, is my original blog and countless stories of tragedies such as ours. Help spread the word! Help save a life! No matter what your age is, be the example. Make a commitment today to put your phone down while driving. Meanwhile, I will continue to share our story and breathe through the pain.

 

Jacque Tierce, a grieving mom

Link to Jacque's previous blog here

 

Texting and driving leads to a mother's heartbreak

By Jacque Tierce

On May 26, 2018, my daughter, Danielle, passed away from injuries incurred when she rear ended the back of a semi. We later found out, she was texting on Snapchat. She was 22 years old and leaves behind a three-year-old son, many family members and countless friends. 

On that fateful morning about 8 a.m., I recall hearing sirens and began praying for whoever was involved. A few minutes later, Danielle's coworker messaged me because Danielle was late for work and was not answering her phone. My heart sank immediately.

Danielle was never late for work. I called her phone twice with no luck. Panic was starting to set in. I messaged her daycare provider who was supposed to be watching Danielle's son, Jayce. Her daycare provider told me that at 7:30 p.m. that morning, Danielle had messaged her and said Jayce's other grandma had made arrangements to pick him up before Danielle left for work. Now I knew, the sirens were for Danielle.

I got a phone call a few minutes later from Danielle's phone. I answered, knowing it would not be Danielle's voice on the other line. The Kansas Highway Patrol officer informed me that Danielle was involved in an accident, she was knocked unconscious but had regained consciousness and was now being taken to our local hospital via ambulance. I arrived just as they were taking her out of the ambulance and was informed they would be airlifting her to Wichita.

Danielle was awake and able to talk to me. Words I will never forget as long as I live. “Mom,” she said in the most agonizing voice I've ever heard, “It hurts so bad Mom. My stomach hurt so bad.” I got to tell her I loved her and squeeze her hand before she went out again and was loaded into the helicopter.

My fiancé drove as we made the two-hour trip from Larned to Wichita. It was filled with tears, phone calls to loved ones of the accident and many prayers. We were notified on the way that they had done a full body scan, discovered internal bleeding and took her to immediate surgery.

When we arrived at the hospital, we, other family members and our pastor’s wife waited for surgery to be completed. After a few hours, the chaplain came in and informed us that the surgeons would be coming in soon to talk to us. The Chaplain sat down to wait with us, I looked over at her and could tell by the look on her face, it wasn't good. The surgeons, four of them, came in and said, “we discovered that the main vessel connecting Danielle's heart to her liver had been severed. She fought hard, but your daughter died.”  I couldn't even cry. I was in shock, still am! 

As we planned for her funeral, the pastor conducting her service asked us, “do you want me to say something about texting and driving during the funeral? I will do it in a tactful way.” After a few minutes of contemplation, we all agreed that it should be addressed. If we could save one person from the heartache that we are experiencing, then we needed to do that.

During the service, the pastor asked everyone to take out their cell phones and go to his Facebook page and find the post #doitfordanielle and share it. We have since created a Facebook page doitfordanielle. One post was shared over 4,500 times. It became very clear to me, my responsibility was to help get this word out!

I began doing some statistical research and have discovered many startling facts.  Do you know that 4.6 seconds is the average time it takes to read or send a text? Do you also know that in those 4.6 seconds driving at highway speed, you can travel the length of a football field and a half? 4.6 seconds!!!!

In my daughter's case, 4.6 seconds cost her her life. She didn't even brake for the semi because she didn't see it. What if she would have injured the truck driver, another driver, or a pedestrian? No text message or any other driver distraction is worth any of it!! Pull over if it's that important and can't wait! 

Through our doitfordanielle Facebook page, I received a request to come talk at a Dare Camp in Ark City. I graciously accepted and spoke to an amazing group of 6th through 8th graders on Aug. 9.  I challenged this group of kids to create a box to keep their cell phones in while driving or for their parent’s phones while driving. I called this project, “I love you more.”

Danielle used to say to her son, “I love you Jayce!” He would respond, “I love you mommy!” Danielle would then say, “I love you more!!”  The boxes were to depict on them all of the things they loved. Everything they would miss if they were no longer here.

What do YOU love more than your cell phone? Is that text message, phone call, Facebook post, Snapchat or Tweet worth more than YOUR life? Or the lives of others? 

Jacque Tierce is a dental assistant and lives in Larned.