This is my youngest daughter, Darrian. She lived a tough life, but she was so smart, so lively, and so beautiful. Her attitude could either draw you in or push you away. She would make more noodles than she could possibly feed herself at one time. Maybe enough for a medium size Italian family. Or use food coloring on rice . But unless you were feeding a family of 8 for what rice she made? You were inevitably going to be wasting it.

Her life was cut short. And although her friend told me that Darrian suspected it would be prior to her death, I always thought that Darrian was paranoid. Darrian once told me that she was afraid of getting older. I couldn’t understand that. Darrian also told me she was afraid of going outside. And from my point of view, I didn’t see where Darrian was coming from. Of course, I wasn’t walking home from school or to school every week day for that matter. She probably saw some crazy things to and from school. She was far more active than I was – for a certainty. She also was abused by her sister. So, it would seem she had every reason to want to get out of the house.

Despite our attempts to manage Ashleigh (Darrian’s half sister), Darrian would always get in Ashleigh’s cross hairs. Of course, it didn’t hurt that they had to share a room.

In an attempt to create some drama free time for Darrian, we sent her to my brother Tim and sister-in-law Karin’s home in New Hampshire to spend the summer. Darrian seemed to enjoy herself, but seemed to encounter some strife with establishing relationships with one peer in particular. She tried to fit in – but both kids were from different type of worlds. She seemed to enjoy the time with family. Admittedly, it was my first experience with Skype and I was a total noob.

When Ashleigh went into foster care, Darrian was by herself with Eric and I. So now, all the proverbial attentions would be divided between the three of us. And it grew to be a point of contention with Darrian. Granted, I expected it would be. She wasn’t used to being the focal point so much. Ashleigh was always the person that had the most attention. In fairness, Darrian wasn’t often expressing suicidal ideation, creating havoc, and doing things that were just plain harmful to herself and or others. While the threat was there, we had to try to contain it. And when the threat was no longer physically present, we tried to attain some level of normality. And no one really knew what that normal was. We had to try to figure it out on our own.

Darrian and I spent a lot of time by ourselves. Eric (my husband and her step father) had many migraine filled days and he’s plagued with some pretty mega mental illnesses. He would be down for the count a lot. And there wasn’t much that could be done about that either. (I’ll explain that later on when I introduce him as well) Darrian and I would play Call of Duty Black Ops 2 together, relatively often. I will be up front and honest by saying that I sucked at it. Every time a zombie would come at me from behind me, I would in real life freak out. Darrian would have spent hours playing the game by herself. But I had meta-social anxiety (and still do for online multiplayer games) regarding my performance or lack there of. Multiplayer games are rough if you’re engaging with players that don’t know you or how you perform. They don’t know that you’re a newbie, they just criticize you or make you feel bad because you’re not nearly to the 1000 hours in the last two weeks of play time. I don’t know the lingo, but I’d pretend I did to a coworker when he’d talk to me about the game. (smile and nod… yep, I know what you mean… smile and nod)

Darrian could usually always bring you out of a funk, even when she couldn’t do it for herself. I think she always tried to bring the cheerful out of people. Her career goals would be either a nurse or a hair dresser. Maybe she could have been a cosmotologist nurse practitioner? She would bring home her homework that she knew that I knew absolutely nothing about. She’d talk about how she’d solve the equation and I’d be struck stupid. She loved my reaction to her confusion homework and laughed. I knew she did it on purpose and it didn’t hurt my feelings. I knew it was fun for her.

Like most kids, Darrian made plenty of mistakes. Things that I know if she had the opportunity to do again, she likely wouldn’t. She was a girl that was very much wanting friends, wanting to be accepted, wanting to be free from hurt. And I couldn’t fault her from that. I made many mistakes in my youth about the very same things. (just different circumstances) I wanted to help her. I wanted to know how to fix everyone’s ailments or strife. I wanted to hurt anyone that hurt her or those I loved. Darrian once confided in me that someone had made her feel so bad in one of her high school years that she had contemplated suicide. After she told me that I hugged her and told her that I don’t know what I’d do if I ever lost her.

And so it comes….

November 27th of 2015 was the fateful night. Darrian was hanging out with some friends and while she was playing around, she collapsed. I got a call from her panicked friend saying something was wrong with Darrian. Honestly, at the time (and I feel horrible for thinking it) I thought that Darrian might have been playing around. Or maybe she was exaggerating to get a response. I told her friend that if things got any worse, to call 911 and to call me back right away. And worse is exactly what happened. The adult there tried to give Darrian mouth to mouth, but that didn’t work. So 911 was called. I drove with Eric in a panic, but only staying a little over the 5 miles per hour that I normally would go so as not to attract police attention. (I’m very law abiding) I finally got to the hospital and experienced something I never wanted to experience again.

Once I got to St. Vincents Hospital in Green Bay, Wisconsin, I was brought in the back to see Darrian being examined by doctors and nurses. She was in an open area of the emergency room where curtains could be drawn, not by separate rooms with doors. Darrian was already hooked up to life saving equipment and they discussed with us how they didn’t know what was happening with her, but they’d keep us posted. And then it happened…. we were brought to a room, separate from the emergency room waiting room. It was a private room just for us and anyone that was party to being with Darrian. Of course, eventually my in laws came after Eric called them to notify them. I remember looking around the room, staring at the different certifications posted on the wall. Or even the different seating options. Everything was sterile, but yet at the same time, private. And it was private to keep anyone in the regular emergency room from hearing us crying, or wailing. It was for those very severe cases that they want to keep contained. And I had been here before. Not the same waiting room or even the same hospital. With my mother.

Darrian was hospitalized that night on the 10th floor in the pediatric ICU. We were there the entirety after her initial ambulance ride. Eventually the tubes and such were removed and she died on December 15th, 2015. Just two days shy of my birthday. I remember hearing it from my husband. I had fallen asleep one night at home and he woke me up. He shook me and repeated my name until I gained consciousness. Once I woke, I said, she’s gone… isn’t she? He just looked at me with a sad face and said, yep. By far, that was the worst day of my life.

Although I lost her, I’ve been grateful for having electronics like cell phones, cameras, and computers. I have a few short videos of her talking or acting goofy. Many times when I’ve lost someone I loved, one thing I wish I still had the ability was to remember their voice. And with modern electronics, I still have her voice recorded. And hopefully those drives will never wipe so they’ll always be a reminder.

The first time I went into a stationary section of walmart, I cried. We LOVED the stationary section of any store. We obsessively bought pens… well, me pens. Her, mechanical pencils. (I loathe pencils) The first time I saw some of the food items that she liked at the grocery store we frequented outside of walmart, I cried. And the first time I went to the DePere Walmart, which she favored over any of the ones in Green Bay, I cried. I tried very hard to keep my composure… and I succeeded for the most part. It just happened to be the store Darrian and I only really went to, together.

Darrian died because of a genetic mutation my family has. The mutation of the RYR2 gene. It causes those with that gene mutation to have or be prone to cardiac arrests. And that’s precisely what the coroner said had to have taken her down.

Aside from electronics and friends and family, I’m thankful that Darrian was able to help someone after death. Her corneas were transplanted to recipient that needed them. I don’t know who the individual was, but I’d like to meet them some day. If I had the chance. I’d love to be able to look into her eyes again. Even if they’re associated with someone else.

Darrian was a helper. That is what she loved. She loved helping people and animals alike. And her last gift was to provide new corneas for someone in need.

Darrian Amber Seppanen

Born 12/31/1998

Died 12/15/2015

Your memory will never be forgotten

Love,

Mom