An arrest has been made. Now what?

So on Monday I found out that those MOST responsible for Aimee's tragic death were arrested on the island of St. Maarten. After the initial euphoria wore off, I started to consider the next logical question: now what?

First off, I never expected this day to come. As British citizens who were outside the U.S. at the time of the incident, and who were in a member of the British Commonwealth (Bahamas), there was little to no chance of them being arrested or extradited. I had accepted this reality, and decided that I needed to move on with my life with the likelihood that we would never see justice done to these people.

But now that they've been arrested, here's what I surmise what happens next, using my best educated guess:

1. The U.S. Attorney in Florida will seek extradition of Chris Jones and Alison Gracey to the U.S.
2. Given that they're no longer in a British Commonwealth country (St. Maarten is Dutch), my hunch is that extradition will be granted, and Jones and Gracey will be turned over to U.S. authorities.
3. I think formal charges have already been filed, so I think the next step would be the beginning of the standard judicial process: arraignment, bail hearings, etc.
   (My hope is that they are not granted bail. First, they'd been living in the Caribbean for the last few years on the run, so I feel like they've used up their 'hall pass' so to speak. Two, I believe them to be a flight risk. And while they may not easily leave the U.S. without their passports, it's a big country to hide in, and people do manage to sneak out of the country from time to time.)
4. Then we'll either have a trial, or they may plea bargain to avoid a trial. 
5. If there's any justice at all, they'll do time in prison.

I can guarantee you this: if there's a trial, I'm going. Another guarantee I can make? No matter how much time they do, it won't be enough to make up for Aimee's loss. But I don't plan to dwell on that. While I do hope for justice, that is part of their life's path, not mine. Whether or not they go to jail impacts them, not me. 

As developments continue, I'll keep everyone posted.

Aimee's killers arrested!

If you're new to this tragic story, here's a very brief recap (a fuller narrative can be found in the paragraph above, just below the "Missing Aimee" title): My first wife (and mother to my daughter) Aimee was killed in December 2011 when the scuba dive boat she was on capsized and sank, trapping her inside. In a post from December 2013, I describe all the parties responsible for her death, including the primary owners of Key Largo Scuba Shack, Chris Jones and Alison Gracey. In that post, I mention that those two were British citizens, that they were out of the U.S.l at the time of the incident, and that they'd basically gone into hiding.

They are hiding no more!!!

According to a news report, forwarded to me by my attorney in Florida, Interpol arrested these two scumbags this past Friday, June 5 on the island of St. Maarten. The US Attorney's office in Florida is now seeking extradition.

Here's a link to the article, though it doesn't actually contain a lot of information.

As anyone who has suffered loss at the hands of someone else will probably tell you: nothing brings back the loved one, but justice for those responsible helps bring closure. This is an incredibly important step toward that justice being served.

Three years, and Rowan's new grief

I vividly recall how three years ago today, December 18, 2011, Rowan wanted to sleep with me that night. It was only a few short hours after learning of Aimee's death, and although I normally had a policy of not allowing Rowan to sleep with us - I mean me - I didn't hesitate to let that slide on that terrible night.

Our Christmas tree

In the days and weeks following, I noticed that Rowan showed very few moments visible grief. There were triggers sometimes, but for the most part, she seemed OK. However, I knew this was due to her developmental stage, and not that she was unaffected by Aimee's sudden and tragic death. 

During my own counseling and Rowan's I spoke with them about how Rowan's grief would evolve as she grew older. How as she grew in the ways she saw the world and related to people around her, her view of her mother's death would also change. Her grief would change, return, take on new forms. In some cases, she would process parts of her mom's death possibly even decades from now, parts that I processed in the months immediately after.

Well, a new phase has arrived this year. As adults, we frequently associate significant events to the time of year in which they happen. In fact, it had been happening to Aimee in the months leading up to her death, as she remembered the passing of her father the year before. For me, the Christmas season, always one of my greatest joys in life, will be associated with Aimee's death.

And now it is for Rowan, too.

Up to this point she'd never made the connection, for which I was grateful. I took great pains to make Christmas as joyous a season for her as I could, and I hoped (and still hope) that she will grow to love Christmas as much as I do.

But over the last several days, she's been moody, sad, and very clear that right now she's missing her mommy. And as her father, it's hard for me to see her in pain, especially as it amplifies my own on-the-surface-this-time-of-year pain. Additionally, Rowan seems to be distancing herself from Sarah, although I truly believe this is temporary and simply part of how Rowan is coping with her grief.

So here's the bottom line in all this: Although the events of December 2011 are pretty much behind us, the lawsuits all settled or dismissed, a new wife and mother is in our lives, as is a new house and an overall concerted effort to move on, Rowan will be processing this grief for many, many years. Aimee's death has left a scar on her that will never go away, never fully heal, and that will affect so many (as of yet unknown) things about her life.

All for a few lousy dollars to fix a damn boat properly. 

Letting go of being mommy

I was daddy. Opposite me was mommy. We did this together.

Then mommy died. I was utterly lost. I knew how to be daddy, but I didn't know how to be mommy too.

And I had a three year old girl who wanted a mommy. Her mommy.

I couldn't give her her mommy.

So I tried to learn to be both mommy and daddy.

I did hair (badly). I bought clothes (better). I listened. I empathized. I held her.

I learned.

And I also still played tackle with her, tickled her, and threw her up in the air and caught her.

And the Mother's Days came and went and the Father's Days came and they went and I celebrated them both with my daughter.

Because I WAS both.

I'm reminded of a time, a bedtime, when Rowan was particularly sad. I tried to comfort her, but wasn't getting very far. Then I remembered how Aimee used to comfort Rowan, and so I asked Rowan, "would you like me to rock you in the rocking chair?" Her face lit up as she crawled into my lap. She rested her head on my chest, and relaxed into me as I gently stroked her hair, kissing her gently on the top of her head. When I placed her back into her bed a few minutes later, she was already asleep.

I pulled the covers up, and kissed her one last time on her head. Although asleep, she smiled a big smile of a child who's loved and secure.

I knew I was mom to her in that moment.

And then...

A new woman came into our lives. Shyly at first. Slowly to be sure.

But now there is love for her and love from her, and soon she will be a formal part of our family.

She will become... mommy. Rowan has already begun to start seeing her as such.

But...

A part of me is sad to let go of being mommy. I took such intense pride in doing both and doing them well. On picture days when my daughter looked amazing, I felt like a good 'mom'. When advising her on managing relationships with her friends, I felt like a good 'mom'. And when bringing baked goods for her class events or fundraisers, I felt like a good 'mom' (and a bad cook).

Consoling her late at night while she cried big tears, missing her mommy, I felt inadequate. But we can't ever win them all.

I have been daddy and mommy. But if my daughter is to have a MOMMY mommy again, I have to let this new part of our family BE mommy.

I have to let go of being mommy.

It's not easy. I want to hold on to keep close to all I have taken on. I proved I could do it, and now I don't want to stop.

But I must. For my daughter. For her new mommy. I have to let go. Well, maybe mostly let go.

I have to let go of being mommy.

I will be daddy. Opposite me will be a mommy again. We'll do this together.

PS. To be clear, the stuff I described as 'mom' stuff can and often is just as much within a dad's role. Dads can cuddle and soothe and bake, and they should do those things. It just happened in my and Aimee's life that we each took on fairly stereotypical gender roles, so the stuff I mentioned as 'mom' stuff had been the types of things Aimee had done for and with Rowan prior to her death. We have definitely made efforts to raise Rowan with the notion that most activities don't 'belong' to a specific gender.

My daughter's landmines

Today I got a call from Rowan's school. That is, to put it mildly, NOT normal.

Apparently, they were preparing to begin work on their annual Mothers Day project, an occasion that has, in the past, caused no difficulty for Rowan. The last two Mothers Days, she's simply made the present and given it to me instead. But this morning was different.

When her teacher called me, she recounted that as she was talking to the class about this year's project, Rowan began to get upset, and was crying by the end. When Mrs. Adams pulled her aside to ask her what was wrong, Rowan stated that she really wanted to give her present to her mommy (Aimee).

Her teacher handled it beautifully, as always. She let Rowan express her feelings, gave Rowan some options to consider, and helped her feel better. Then she called me to let me know.

Rowan will decide if she wants to give the present to me like the last couple of years, or to give it to Sarah since we'll be getting married soon. Or she might give it to her grandma Donna (Aimee's mother). Or she might keep it herself as another reminder of her mommy, and her love for her.

Personally, I don't any preference at all for which one she chooses. I trust she'll do what feels most comforting to her in this moment. And I'm grateful for the people that Rowan has around her to help her through these moments.

These landmines.

You see, I KNOW there will be more of these. As she grows and matures and develops, things that never bothered her before will begin to. Thoughts about her mother's death that never occurred to her before will. Some of them will make her sad. Some will make her angry.

And many of them will be unexpected.

Landmines.

This is the life Rowan faces, thanks to those who were responsible for her mother's death. A life of landmine events and holidays and conversations. The sudden longings for her mother at major life events.

No matter what I wish, there's no way to fix that. It's just part of her life and what she'll go through.

Hearing Aimee's voice the other night

So, Justin (Aimee's brother) saved a series of voice mails from Aimee from the last month or so before she died, and finally recorded them all into one recording and sent them to Donna, who forwarded them on to me. After sitting on that email for a few days, I listened to them a few nights ago. Rowan heard I had a recording of mommy's voice, and asked to listen to them and so we sat and did so together.

It was so weird to hear her voice so normal and, well, HER. Rowan commented that hearing them made her feel like Aimee wasn't dead, but actually was just somewhere else, like at the store or something. I knew what she meant, because that's kind of how I felt too, like Aimee was just away from the house running a few errands.

The voice mails were bittersweet in another way as well. It's sometimes easy for me to forget in the shock and horror of Aimee's death that her family was still very much grieving her father's death the year before. Aimee was especially struggling with grief as the one year anniversary of his death approached (for those who weren't aware, that's actually why we were in Florida in the first place). In the very last voice mail she left Justin, just two days before we left for Florida, she talks about how she'd been slow to call him back because she'd been in am "emotional hole", and hadn't wanted to drag him down.

I'm so glad that the last six days we all had together were filled with so much fun and laughter. Since Aimee had been so sad, it's somewhat of a relief to think that during her last week alive, she was filled with the happiness of being surrounded by those she loved and who loved her. And when I want to hear that, I can watch the video footage we took that week and see and hear how she looked and sounded then.

Talk about bittersweet.

PS: There was bonus material in the recording Justin sent out: In one of the calls Aimee gets Rowan to talk to Justin, and it was really cool and sweet to hear Rowan's 3 year-old voice again. It was right before Halloween, and they were getting ready to carve pumpkins, and Rowan was very excited. So precious and cute. She still is precious and cute, but it's amazing how much kids change so quickly in these early years.

Part 3: What I'd like to see for the future

So, now we know how Aimee died, and who was responsible. Now, what would I wish for in regards to the future, as a result of all of this?

Assuming I couldn't undo what's been done and bring Aimee back to life, there are three big things I wish I could make happen in the aftermath of Aimee's death:

I took this photo on my and Aimee's
honeymoon, ironically, off the
coast of Florida. Aimee's own sun set
there five and a half years later

1. All scuba dive shops in the U.S. would be required to carry insurance. Seriously, at least in Florida, they aren't. Key Largo Scuba Shack had no insurance, so after Aimee died and the owners decided to stay in another country, there was no way we could go after them to compensate us for the tremendous loss we'd suffered (Aimee's income, a myriad of increased expenses, not to mention the huge emotional toll). I think it's criminal - literally - that businesses can operate in an industry that contains a great deal of personal risk (especially when not done correctly), and not be required to carry insurance.
2. Any vessel that took passengers out onto the ocean commercially would be required to pass annual Coast Guard inspections, even if they only took out a few people. That may be unrealistic, but it's horrible that a business can sidestep the rules to put innocent people at risk on a boat as bad as the Get Wet. Even if a boat is going to be used as a "6 pack" (six or fewer passengers), it should be required to at least once pass a Coast Guard inspection before it can be used commercially. Or maybe once every five years. 
3. Jones and Gracey would be brought back to the U.S. to face whatever legal consequences there might be as a result of their horrific management of Key Largo Scuba Shack. They knowingly and willfully cut corners in ways that made their operation unsafe for their passengers AND crew. They put people's well-being at risk, and as a result killed one person and nearly killed another. They ought to face the consequences of their actions.*

Of these three, they're all either long shots or practically impossible. But that doesn't mean some how, in some way, I won't try. Aimee's story, and her legacy, are from over, I'll tell you that.

Part 1: Here's what really happened on December 18, 2011
Part 2: Who was involved in Aimee's death, and how

________________________________________________

*A note on why #3 isn't going to happen: Apparently, countries almost never extradite their own citizens to other countries to face charges. Among those is the U.K., where Jones and Gracey are from. From what I was told by someone in the Florida Attorney General's office, countries that are part of the British Commonwealth of nations will typically never arrest and extradite British citizens to countries that are not part of that Commonwealth, and from the last I heard these two are living in the British Virgin Islands or some such similar place. In other words, they're probably never going to face the music for what they did.

2 year anniversary, and words that brought me to tears

Today marks the two year anniversary of Aimee's death. While I had planned on posting Part 3 of the series I wrote on Aimee's death, I'm going to postpone that until tomorrow.

Instead, I am going to share with you these words, written last night by a friend of mine (and Aimee's), and one of the first things I saw this morning. If you read only part of this, read the third paragraph (in italics). It's so beautiful, and so dead-on, it brought me to tears.

From Kristi:

"Two years ago tomorrow as I was getting ready to head to St. Joseph's Hospital for my 10th surgery of this humbling medical journey [blood disorder], I learned of the passing of my dear friend, Aimee. 

Filled with grief, when the Chaplain came in to pray for my surgery, we instead spent the time praying for Aimee and her family, especially her husband (also a dear friend) and daughter. Goosebumps resulted when I thought of how Aimee would have also been full of the same comforting words, much like the Chaplain's. Her joyful spirit and sweet smile often gave all of those she knew a wonderful sense of peace. I felt her with me that day and knew the surgery would be complication free.

It's the last operation I had and although the recovery was a long road, and this wacky blood of mine continues to humble me and to teach me my limits, it also has provided me with a renewed commitment to embrace each day as a gift. I now live life for today, with a much more open heart and a tender forgiving spirit, trying to learn, to love, and to journey down the path that God is constantly revealing. I take more risks now. I attempt things I wouldn't have dreamed of two years ago. In the blink of an eye, after all, inexplicable tragedies or a medical issue or unexpected news, can quickly change everything.

So on this day, a day not promised that also marks the two year anniversary of her passing, do what Aimee would have done. Provide comforting words to a friend. Be a joyful spirit to someone who is hurting. Offer a genuine smile to a stranger. Buy someone a cup of coffee. And never stop trying to find peace, both in your own heart and through the friends and family in your circle. In these small ways and more, we can honor an amazing wife, daughter, sister, mother, and friend.
God bless you and keep you, precious Aimee. Thank you for the beautiful lessons you taught us while you were on this Earth. And thank you for the peace you provide as you watch over all of us from heaven."


Thank you, Kristi, for amazing and beautiful about an amazing and beautiful woman.

Part 2 - Who was involved in Aimee's death, and how

When we lose someone tragically or unexpectedly, it's natural to want to know the answer to one simple question:

Whose fault is this?

In  the case of Aimee, her death was the result of a series of actions, inactions, and decisions, where any single one of them being different probably means that Aimee doesn't die on that boat.

Here are the people who I feel are responsible for Aimee's death, and why or how. Except for the last one, which is the party I hold most responsible, these are not necessarily in a particular order:

Who: The boat captain, John (yes, I am intentionally leaving out most people's last names).
Why: John was about 19 years old at the time of the accident, and seems to me probably wasn't terribly experienced. Which may be why he seemed to think that instead of getting people OFF of a sinking ship, he thought to have them move further up into the cabin, under the hard top, to try and bring the front of the boat down to counterbalance the sinking back end. From all accounts, there's no way in hell that boat had a chance to get back to port, and he should have known that and gotten people off the boat. He didn't do that.

Who: Kara, the dive master.
Why: While the boat began taking on water at a dangerous rate, she stood by and waited for the boat captain to do something (I got this directly from her own statements during one of her depositions). She was older (albeit not by a lot) and had more boating experience, and I don't think it would have been unreasonable for her to make decisions to protect the safety of her students. But that's not the only thing I think makes her partially responsible for Aimee's death.

When the boat capsized and people got to the surface, it was clear two people were missing. The ones who'd gotten out were able to grab the raft floating in the water, and another boat was nearby and approaching to rescue them. The boat captain grabbed scuba gear and went after the missing people. Why didn't Kara? The two people missing were both HER beginning students, and she was a licensed and experienced dive master. Why the hell did she not try to help rescue both people? If she'd gone down in the water with John, they might have gotten them BOTH up in time to save them.

Who: PADI (http://www.padi.com/scuba/), which stands for Professional Association of Diving Instructors. Why: They are an organization that trains and licenses scuba instructors, and they allow dive shops to post their logo and propaganda to lend them a sense of legitimacy. In fact, my lawyer showed me some literature that indicated that PADI does some sort of "quality inspection" of a dive shop as part of the certification process. Well, maybe they do, but apparently they're not especially thorough. The boat they inspected wasn't the one Key Largo Scuba Shack actually used, and PADI had no idea. Didn't PADI check to see if this was the only boat KLSS owned and planned to use? They also had no idea that the boat Key Largo Scuba Shack WAS using was a piece of crap, repeatedly breaking down and having to be towed in. Yet they were content to list KLSS on their site as an implied endorsement. Sadly, that's exactly how Aimee ended up on that boat. Her brother and sister-in-law had done some diving, and found Key Largo Scuba Shack on the PADI web site. Assuming that meant it was a reputable dive shop, they went diving with them that week, and suggested it to Aimee as well.

Who: Mike & Judy S.
Why: There was some dispute about their role in the management or ownership of the Key Largo Scuba Shack. I recall seeing a news report that listed Mike as the manager. I heard they were minority owners. They claimed that they held no ownership, but had simply loaned the primary owners money. Regardless their official role, it seems clear they were involved in a hands-on way, which means they could have had some say in the maintenance and care of the boat and other equipment. At the very least, I feel they had a moral obligation to intervene if the boat was unsafe and they knew it.

Who: The U.S. Coast Guard.
Why: In a way, it is quite unfair to list them here. They conducted a thorough investigation, as best as I can tell. And leading up to the events of December 18, they did what they were bound to do.

So why are they on this list?

Vessels used to carry passengers commercially, or at least dive boats in Florida, are subject to annual Coast Guard inspection. However, there are too many boats, and not nearly enough resources for the Coast Guard to inspect them all, so an exception is made for "6-packs" - boats that carry six or fewer passengers. This leads us to the sad history of the Get Wet (the boat Aimee died in). It was large enough to carry more a larger load of passengers; however, since it had apparently failed a number of Coast Guard inspections, KLSS decided to reclassify it as a 6-pack to avoid any further inspections.

Still, the boat was so bad that it broke down multiple times, and had to be towed in. The owners were supposed to file reports of this to the Coast Guard, but apparently never did. Again, not the Coast Guard's fault, but they also have nothing in place to monitor these types of incidents and follow up, which then puts the lives of innocent people like Aimee at risk.

I maintain that it should be enforceable policy that if a boat fails a Coast Guard inspection, it can't be used (at least not commercially) until it does.

All of this leads us to...

Who: Last but not least, Chris Jones and Alison Gracey. Yes, THEY get their last names used.

The Key Largo Scuba Shack logo,
taken from their Facebook page

Why: These two are the primary owners of what was once Key Largo Scuba Shack. These pieces of garbage were in the Bahamas opening a new Scuba Shack branch when Aimee was killed, and as British citizens, decided they'd be better off staying there and not returning to the U.S. to face what had happened.

And why wouldn't they want to?

Because, my good friends, they are the ones most directly responsible for Aimee being dead. And they know it.

They took shortcuts on the care and maintenance of the boat, which is why it was in such bad shape (hatches not fastened or properly sealed). The life jackets were nowhere to be seen. And the fire extinguisher had expired more than a year earlier. Every time that boat went out, they jeopardized people's lives, and they didn't give a shit.

From the Facebook page of Key Largo Scuba Shack on
December 8, 2011. It was the last post they made on  their page

As I already mentioned, the boat had broken down multiple times, yet they patched it up (as opposed to really fixing the boat's problems) and kept sending it out, and they failed to report these incidents to the Coast Guard. The huge hatch/storage bench wasn't properly sealed to keep water out of the hull, or fastened to the deck to keep it from coming loose. Which is why the boat sank, and when it did, that huge box broke loose and pinned Aimee to the window, trapping her in the boat and causing her to drown.

In summary, there were a number of "critical elements", of which if any single one of them had been different, Aimee likely wouldn't have died:

• Coast Guard inspected the boat and refused to allow it to be used any ANY commercial use until it passed
• Chris Jones and Alison Gracey had taken proper care of the boat, particularly making sure all hatches were sealed and secured
• Mike and Judy had intervened and either taken care of the boat or notified the Coast Guard of the boat's problems or breakdowns
• PADI had been less concerned with making money off of sales of their materials and classes and more concerned with making sure that the dive shops they implicitly endorsed were in fact reputable
• John hadn't had his passengers move up to the front under the hard top, but instead moved them near the back and had them put on life preservers
• Kara had intervened and had passengers do the above when John did not
• Kara had ensured the other passengers were above water and about to be rescued, then grabbed some scuba gear and joined John in the rescue efforts of the two missing people

Next: Part 3 - What I wish for the outcome of all of this
ICYMI: Part 1: Here's what happened on December 18, 2011

Part 1: Here's what happened on December 18, 2011

This post has been a long time coming...

I am going to tell you, as best as I can ascertain, what happened on December 18, 2011. The information here is culled from conversations with investigators, and my own reading of the accident reports and witness statements. I will not claim everything as absolute fact, because if you've ever been involved in any way with a disastrous incident, you know that things can be so chaotic that it's possible that no one will be able to determine the exact correctness of every detail. That being said, this account, I'm confident, is pretty right on.

On the afternoon of December 18, the Key Largo Scuba Shack boat "Get Wet" was moored at Molasses Reef off the coast of the Florida Keys. There were six divers, three of them "discover" divers (beginners, who had gone through the training that morning in a pool), and three more experienced divers, one of whom was Aimee's sister-in-law Caroline. Aimee was one of the discover divers, going on her first-ever scuba dive excursion.

While the divers were out on the first of two planned dives, water started coming over the back (stern) of the boat as the waves picked up a bit. Since the transom (back wall) of the boat had a section cut out to allow divers on and off the boat (as opposed to a door that opened and closed, and might have had some seal around it to keep water out), the water came onto the deck. Normally, the water would roll back off, but the engine hatch, which also held a large bench and storage bin built into it, was not properly sealed, nor was it properly secured. Other hatches also appear to have been both improperly sealed or secured.

Since there were hatches that were not sealed, water began spilling down into the hull of the boat, and at an alarming rate. Further complicating matters, the bilge pump (which pumps water out of a boat's hull) stopped working. The boat captain, John, posted this on his Facebook page while the divers were in the water.

As the first dive was completed and the divers returned to the boat, the water situation was becoming worse. Apparently there was some discussion about whether or not the second dive would happen, and there seem to be conflicting reports on whether or not the boat was headed to the second dive or headed back to port. As best as I can tell, the boat captain was taking the boat back to shore.

As the boat continued to take on water, and the stern dragged deeper into the water, the captain had the divers move farther towards the front, under the hard top of the boat. Apparently, he was trying to counterbalance the dragging back end by putting more weight at the front. There seemed to be a brief and tense conversation between the dive instructor (Kara) and John. At some point, John apparently also sent out a distress call, which was overheard by a nearby boat. Then, moments later, the Get Wet rocked hard to the left (port) as the amount of water in the hull reached a critical level, and then the boat capsized, sinking stern first.

When the boat rolled, Aimee was thrown from the starboard (right) side to the other. The unsecured engine hatch (the huge bench/box in the photo below) broke loose from its place and pinned her to the front window of the boat. Caroline was pushed out a window by Kara, and most of the others found their way out as well. The exception was a young man from New Jersey by the name of Amit, who was also trapped in the boat (though in a different place).

This large bench is also the engine hatch. Although it's in
its proper place in this post-accident photo, this is what
apparently broke loose and pinned Aimee to the front
window of the boat. This photo was taken as part of the
 investigation after the boat was salvaged from the water 

As those who escaped the boat reached the surface, they found a raft that had been on the top of the Get Wet now floating in the water, and they made their way to that. At this time, is also became apparent that two people were missing. John, the boat captain, grabbed some scuba dive equipment that was floating in the water and headed down to the now sunken boat. Another scuba dive boat (The "Visibility") moored nearby, which had heard the distress call moments earlier, pulled anchor and headed over to rescue the people in the water.

After a short period of time, and after the people on the "Visibility" had rescued those in the water, John resurfaced with Amit, who was unconscious and not breathing. Amit was pulled onto the Visibility, and someone on the boat began CPR. John then re-submerged to find Aimee.

When John returned to the sunken boat, he first found one of Aimee's arms sticking out a window. When he pulled on it to try and free her, he was unsuccessful, so he went back into the boat and essentially through the engine hatch, under which Aimee was still pinned. Finding where she was stuck, he freed her, and then brought her to the surface. By this time, Amit had been revived and was receiving oxygen, though he was still unconscious. Aimee was pulled on board and people began to administer CPR. The Visibility then headed towards the shore.

Although CPR was administered to Aimee during the entire ride (roughly 25 minutes), she never resumed breathing. EMS met the boat as it arrived on shore, and EMTs took over the CPR. But apparently they stopped fairly quickly, recognizing the futility of their efforts. They pronounced her dead, and left Aimee's body on the boat until the Medical Examiner's Office arrived to take possession of her body.

Amit was taken to a local hospital, then flown to a hospital in Miami. From what information I have, he has made a complete recovery (at least physically).

At some point after the boat reached shore, Caroline called her husband (Aimee's brother) Justin and told him he needed to come to the marina immediately, that something had happened with the boat. Justin, frantic, asked me for the keys to my rental car, sharing only that there was a problem with the boat and he needed to go. He left, and did not return my texts or calls while he was gone. I don't recall how long that was, but it felt like an eternity.

When he returned, he was with two law enforcement officers, a member of the local clergy, and a victim's advocate. Caroline was also with him, although she stayed in the car for some time before she came into the house.

That's when I received the terrible news: Aimee was dead.

There are a few things I have focused on in regards to this accident, some of which I'll expand more on in the next post. 1. Why were the hatches not properly sealed to prevent water from getting into the hull in such catastrophic amounts? 2. Why was the engine hatch not properly fastened to the deck, the failure to do so being the reason Aimee was pinned in the boat? 3. Instead of trying to save the boat by putting people toward the front of the boat and under the hard top, why weren't people put in life jackets and moved to a position where they could easily escape if necessary? And finally, 4. Why did the dive master, the person likely most responsible for the well-being of those beginning divers, not also attempt to help rescue the two people who were missing?

Like I said, I'll get more into these in the next post.

Part 2: The various players in this tragedy, and my determination of their role in Aimee's death
Part 3. What I'd like to see in the aftermath of Aimee's death

What's coming next on this blog

Last month, nearly two years after Aimee's death, I finally asked my lawyer for a copy of the official accident report. We'd had conversations with one of the accident investigators early on, and had an idea, at least unofficially, what had happened. But to date I had never read the official report.

Last week, I sat down and read the whole thing in one sitting.

Truth be told, there wasn't a lot there I didn't already know. I had incorrectly remembered exactly how the water started getting into the hull of the boat, but otherwise the particulars of the incident were pretty much already known to me. What was both informative but extremely difficult to read was the statement by the boat's captain, where he described finding Aimee and trying to get her out of the sunken boat. It gave me some insight as to why she might not have been able to escape the boat, but created a distinct and very disturbing visual of her predicament in her final moments.

So I am now in the process of putting together a three-part blog series about the incident, with those parts being:

1. My understanding of what happened that day
2. Who are the players, and what role did they have in Aimee's death
3. What I'd like to see, in the future, in a perfect world

Thanksgiving, and some important news is coming

First, let me say I hope all of you had a happy and blessed Thanksgiving. I really did, which I'll dig deeper into momentarily.

But first, I have some news. Well, ok, it's not news itself, but rather letting you know that in the coming weeks, there WILL be news, and lots of it. This blog is going to really come alive again for a while, as I have a lot of things to share... soon.

In the meantime, I'm going to share some things I'm incredibly thankful for, and a little about my Thanksgiving.

A photo of Caroline from
her blog, Caroline in Space

• I'm thankful that for now, at least, the legal proceedings in Florida are about wrapped up. I'm anxious to have that chapter in my life closed and behind me.
• I got to spend time on Thanksgiving with Justin and Caroline. Since we live across the U.S. from each other, I don't get to see them as often as I'd like. I was particularly excited to see Carline because...
• Caroline is pregnant! They're having their first child, a daughter. And in a move that brought tears to my eyes when Justin told me, they're going to name the baby...
• Aimee.

I also need to say I am so thankful for my relationship with Aimee's family since her death. Donna has been an incredible help and support, going WAY above and beyond to be a help to me, and to play an important role in Rowan's life. Donna tells Rowan stories about Aimee, shares keepsakes and old photos with Rowan, and in general just takes amazing care of her when she's babysitting. I am so blessed to have such a wonderful resource, and Rowan is blessed to have such an important link to her mother.

But it goes beyond just that. As I've been dating 'Sandra' for over a year now, Donna has been so supportive of that as well, and has really embraced Sandra and her role in my and Rowan's lives. Justin and Caroline have embraced Sandra as well, inviting her to join all of us on Thanksgiving. We all had a really nice time.

I could go on and on about all that I'm thankful for, but I'll leave it at this for now. And watch in the coming days and weeks, as there will be lots of stuff coming out. One of the biggest pieces of news will be coming tomorrow or the next day.

And yes, it relates to 'Sandra'.

Rowan sees the urn, and has questions I wasn't ready for

So I'm about six months late on my spring cleaning (or six months early, depending on your perspective). I was tackling some of that this past weekend, and as usual, Rowan wanted to help.

At one point, I was going through the bottom of my bedroom closet when I came across a large box that didn't look familiar. I pulled it out and opened it as Rowan looked over my shoulder. Inside was a beautiful white urn, and I immediately knew what it was.

It was the urn containing Terry's ashes (Aimee's father).

miniature urn with a small
amount of Aimee's ashes

Of course, it's really pretty, which sparked Rowan's interest. "What is that, Daddy?"

Rowan and I have never talked about what actually happens to people's bodies when they die. We've had the "we die and go to heaven" explanation, but I hadn't yet told her that the earthly bodies get left behind. I felt like talking about burying someone's body in a box in the ground would be kind of scary, and even worse would be explaining cremation, which is what both Terry and Aimee opted for.

So when Rowan asked me what was in the urn, I decided to go ahead and cross this bridge. I explained that grandpa's spirit was in heaven, but his body had been left behind and had been turned into these ashes. His family wanted to keep them as one way to remember him, so the ashes were in this urn.

Then I hoped she wouldn't make the obvious connection and ask what happened to Aimee. My hopes were granted.

For about five minutes.

I scattered Aimee's ashes on October 25th last year, the ninth anniversary of the day we met. But several of us kept small keepsake urns with a small amount of Aimee's ashes in them, and mine is on my dresser. So of course Rowan spotted it (it's been there for going on two years without her noticing it before), and asked me what was in it. She had a look on her face that told me she suspected the answer already. I told her in fact that a small amount of Aimee's ashes in it. She asked if she could see, so I opened it up so she could.

I watched her face as she looked upon what was left of Aimee's earthly body. She looked slightly confused, but didn't say anything else. A few seconds later, she looked away and changed the subject.

I'm fairly certain this topic is going to come up again, but ultimately, I'm glad the subject has been broached. And like so many other topics, they're conversations I wish I didn't have to have with my precious little girl.

Video of Aimee and Rowan shortly before Aimee's death

I have been holding on to this for a long time, intending to share it with you since shortly after Aimee's death. But for several reasons, I hadn't been able to do it. I think a lot of it has to do with my rambling (I'm the one shooting the video) about the vacation we're on, the house, the pool, etc, etc. It also felt so much more personal than some of the photos, the memories I've shared, and the experiences I've had since. This video belonged in almost another world, a world in which Aimee was still alive and our family was still intact.

But the focus of the video, primarily, is Aimee and Rowan playing in the pool. It's a wonderful few moments between a mommy and her little girl, one of the last such moments they'd have.

So what changed? Well, a few things. First, today is September 11, 2013, twelve years since 9/11. I've seen a lot of moving articles and tributes dealing with the needless deaths of so many people, and I couldn't help but think of the needless death of Aimee. Additionally, a number of friends or friends of friends have been battling cancer, and some have already lost their fight. Let's just say, there's been a lot of death lately, and so it's been more on my mind than normal. So while I'm not sure exactly why, the time felt right to share this more intimate and personal look into our last days as a family in a moment shared with Aimee, Rowan, and myself.

If I could go back in time to record something that already happened...

A technology news outlet I follow on Facebook posted the following status update a while back:

Have you ever wished that you could record something that already happened? What would you go back and record? - http://tcrn.ch/173v8RY

Although they apparently deleted my comment (for reasons completely outside of my understanding), this is what I commented (slightly edited):

I would so love to go back and record the few moments I got to spend with my wife on her last day alive. She died in a terrible scuba boating accident, and of course none of us knew those were her last hours. I'd record her and I and our then 3 1/2 year old daughter snuggling in bed that morning. I'd record the last hug I gave her. I'd record our daughter and I seeing her later that day at the aquatic center where she did her beginner scuba diving training, shortly before she went out on that boat. I'd record my last goodbye kiss, which was through a chain link fence. And I'd record that very last moment I set eyes on her, from across a distance, waving at her in her pink shorts and white t-shirt and beautiful smile before she left our lives forever. Some people feel we spend too much time recording life and not enough time living life, and they're absolutely right. But I'd so love to have those moments recorded so I could go back to them and also to show our daughter as she grows up and is trying to know and remember her mother.

As I reference above, I think many of us (myself included) spend too much time with our face pointed at a screen (usually a smartphone) taking photos, posting updates, whatever. We spend so much of our lives interacting with our devices and not living in the moment. But there are times when I think we have to recognize the preciousness of the little things, and we need to remember to try and capture them once in a while. You never know when those precious little events can become hugely important. I know my daughter and I would both love to have record of those last precious moments with Aimee.

Rowan got sad, wrote a letter to mommy

When I got home from work a short time ago, I found the babysitter finishing up making dinner, which is normal, but Rowan was nowhere to be seen, which is not.

The sitter let me know that Rowan had seemed sad since she picked her up from school, and after asking for some snuggling and a story, had decided that she wanted to write (actually dictate) a letter to Aimee. Then Rowan shut herself in her room, which was where she still was when I got home. The sitter then handed me the letter she'd written out as Rowan had dictated it.

I went up to Rowan's room and after giving her a hug and talking with her for a minute about how we both missed mommy every day, she seemed to feel better and came downstairs. Then I read the letter while she was distracted by something else. The contents both made me laugh out loud and cry at the same time.

(Before I share the contents of the letter, I should tell you that Rowan loves McDonald's, but I won't take her there very often. I've explained that the food is very bad for you, and during our last visit there I joked of what Aimee would say if she saw me there with Rowan: "Hon! McDonald's, really?? Ugh! You can do better, can't you? Toad!" Rowan thought that was funny.)

Here's what Rowan wrote to Aimee:

Dear mom,
I wish you were here. I want you to see how big I have gotten. My dad has been a really good daddy and sometimes he doesn't let me go to McDonald's. I love you lots.
Rowan

Man, I really love that kid. And I love that she's starting to see something deeper here - that at least part of my motivation in being as good a father as I possibly can rests in the knowledge that I feel an even more profound responsibility to Rowan's development and care because the 'better parent' was lost. That's not a knock on my own parenting, which is improved. It's just a recognition of the vast, immeasurable loss.

Tonight's 'mommy moment'

Most parents love it when their kids take naps. Not me. If Rowan takes a nap, it's almost a guarantee that she won't go to sleep until at least an hour or so after I put her to bed. I try to avoid her falling asleep during the day as much as possible.

But sometimes it happens anyway, and today was such a day. Sure enough, she had a hell of a time getting to sleep. I tried the usual - allowing her to read a few books typically does the trick - but no go this time.

Not the chair in Rowan's
room, but similar

So I did something I haven't done in years.

I went up to her room. I turned off her light. I sat down in the rocking chair in her room, and I called her over to me. She climbed up into my lap, and I quietly held her and rocked her. At first, she was confused, asking what I was doing. I explained that when she had been very young, her mommy (and sometimes I) had rocked her to sleep in that rocking chair, and I was going to try and help her get sleepy the same way now. She took a few minutes to get comfortable, but soon she was nestled into my chest, eyes closed, breathing getting slower. After a few minutes I stood up and carefully placed her on her bed, pulled up the covers to her chin, and gently kissed her on the top of her head. Her eyes never opened, but the smile on her face was enough to nearly bring tears to my eyes. It was still there several seconds later after I tore myself away and headed back downstairs to continue work on the night's chores (and to write this).

It made me recall all the times I had seen Aimee rock Rowan to sleep (or at least to relax her in preparation for going to sleep) when Rowan was a baby and toddler. It was a mommy moment.

And tonight, it was my mommy moment.

Rowan still misses her mommy greatly, and always will. But here and there, I do what I can to fill in the gap.

Father's Day tips for guys like me

Today, Rowan brought home the most adorable Father's Day gift that she made in preschool. She was so proud of it, and rightly so - it's awesome (see photo). I really like that her school teaches kids the tradition of honoring their moms and dads by making them thoughtful gifts on their special days.

Apparently this is supposed to read,
"Rowan's HERO lives here." Is that
not the best thing ever?

But it got me thinking about the last year a half, and last Father's Day and other important occasions (like my birthday). On each occasion, someone stepped up and guided Rowan in recognizing my special day, either helping her pick out or make presents for me. Rowan absolutely loved giving me these gifts, and I loved receiving them.

Before Aimee's death, that's a role she would have taken on.

So the point of this post is this: if you know someone who has lost their spouse/partner, and they have young children who aren't really able to go out and obtain gifts for the surviving parent on their own, please make sure you or someone else steps in and fills that gap. Losing a spouse brings with it so many, many other losses. And it adds so much to the surviving spouse's realm of responsibility, leaving so much more for them to handle. It has meant the world to me that Rowan has been able to recognize Father's Day and my birthday and Christmas, because others have helped her do that (and as I said, Rowan loves it, too). It would mean the world to others if someone helped their young children do the same for them.

On a related note: on Mother's Day, quite a few of my friends sent me some kind of note (tweet, Facebook post, etc) recognizing my efforts at filling the role of mom to Rowan. It was truly touching, even though I feel like I still get to have my day on Father's Day. Having people say encouraging and sweet things on Mother's Day too was a nice treat. So if you know any single moms (especially widows or families where dad is MIA) who are doing their damnedest to also fill in as father to their kids, maybe take a moment and show them a little love this Sunday. I'm sure it'll mean a lot.

A few Mother's Day thoughts, and a few tears courtesy of Rowan

Influences

I have been significantly influenced by two mothers during my life: my mom and Rowan's mom (Aimee). My own mom, who will tell you that going to kindergarten saved my life, was an incredible mentor to me growing up. She was also an example of monumental patience. She knew what kind of adults she wanted her children to grow up to be, and she stayed the course of getting us there through our childhoods (despite some SERIOUS setbacks along the way). And like all good mothers, she is still very much a mom to this day, a point so beautifully illustrated to me after Aimee died. I 'wanted my mommy', but I didn't necessarily want to say so. Turns out I didn't have to, as my mom showed up the morning after we arrived home from Florida, and stayed with me for the next five days.

I could not begin to list all of the things I learned from my mom in one place, but if you know me and think I'm even remotely likable, you can thank my mom for that.

Aimee's influence on me was over a much shorter period of time, but still extremely significant. She had rock-solid ideas about how she wanted to parent (and she expected me to agree with her, whether I did or not!), and she held true to her convictions. She also displayed amazing patience - not as much with Rowan, who was and is a great kid, but with me, who was a slow learner as a father. Just a few of the things Aimee taught me about parenting:

• How to interpret different behaviors from children.
• How to effectively redirect undesirable behavior.
• How to effectively use rewards to modify behavior, without turning it into a system of constant and escalating bribery.
• Build a solid relationship with her now, so that she'll be far more likely to listen to what I have to say when she's older and trying to find her own way.
• And perhaps most important in the aftermath of her death, she had shared with me some pointers she learned when she'd gone through a class on helping young children deal with trauma and loss. A couple of times, these tips helped me tremendously with helping Rowan process her feelings, and I still use some of them today.

For many reasons, I owe Aimee a serious debt of gratitude.

The Rowan Effect

Rowan got to me twice today (Mother's Day), once at the beginning, and once at the end.

Normal weekend practice is for me to try and squeeze as much time in bed as possible, so I'm always still in bed when Rowan gets up. As always, she climbed into bed with me this morning to cuddle, then needled at me until I agreed to get up and make breakfast. But just as I started to move, she dropped me with a question out of the blue:

"Daddy, when you're in bed at night, do you get lonely with Mommy gone?"

Immediately I recalled in my mind how I got into this horrible sleep pattern that I have now: staying up til 3-4 am until I simply could not keep my eyes open anymore, because I could not stand going to bed and thinking about Aimee. I missed her terribly all the time, but it was most acute in the still quiet of bedtime. I missed our gentle teasing of each other, the long talks, and the incredible intimacy we shared. It was, in a word, agony.

"I used to miss her a great deal, but it's better now, " I said. "It's like a lot of things in life, sweetheart. It might be hard at first, but after a while-"

"You get used to it," she finished for me, sounding much older than her now five years of age.

"Yes, sweetie, you get used to it."

With that, she turned and went downstairs.

Fast forward to her bedtime. As I was tucking her in, I asked her "Rowan, with all the Mother's Day stuff, have you been thinking about Mommy today?"

"Yeah," she answered. "I've been missing her all day."

"Yeah, me too."

"Hey," she said, handing me one of her laminated photos of Aimee, "Will you make Mommy talk?"

"Sure."

"Mommy!"

Me, as Aimee: "Hi Rowan!"

"Guess how old I am!"

"Are you still 4?"

"Nope, I'm FIVE!"

"Wow, you're getting bigger all the time."

"And Mommy?" Voice much softer now.

"Yes, sweetie?"

"I miss you. I wish you could come back and visit sometimes."

"Oh, sweetie, I wish I could do that for you."

Rowan, voice now cracking, "It's just that I miss you so much, and I wish you were still here."

Luckily, she chose this moment to hug the photo, because I couldn't speak. I was choked up, and tears were in my eyes. And once again, I battled against hating the people whose collective negligence led us down this road of pain, especially for the sake of my precious and innocent little girl.

Please, value the mothers in your life, be they your own, the mother of your children, or what have you. Don't just appreciate them or thank them, but really pay attention to the strength and wisdom they share, because you never know when you may need to call upon it in your own life for yourself or those around you.

Girlfriend

So, I've decided to share the news... I am seeing someone.

For now, I plan to protect her privacy by not sharing a lot about her, including her name. For now, let's call her "Sandra". But here's what I will tell you:

It's going well.

Sandra is beautiful, smart, and funny. She is a very warm-hearted person doing speech therapy work in an elementary school. Sandra is fully aware of my situation: of how I lost Aimee, that I write this blog (she doesn't read it), and that I still have very close relationships with Aimee's surviving family members. In fact, she's very supportive of that. We've been together about six months now, and although it's still early, I am cautiously optimistic about where this might go.

I have also started to slowly introduce her and Rowan, with the three of us occasionally doing activities together. That part is really weird, because although I am used to being with her when it's just to two of us, adding Rowan into the dynamic feels like I'm betraying Aimee just a little somehow. Intellectually I know better, but it's still weird.

You see, when we're all together, I sometimes try to imagine a possible future where we're a family. And I see this analogy where our family was a three-piece puzzle, with each person - Aimee, Rowan, and I - were each one of the pieces. Together, our three pieces created an image of our family. Then one of those pieces was suddenly gone, and our family looked a lot different. It took some time, but I was able to reach a point of acceptance of how this new family image appeared. But now if I imagine Sandra's piece fitted in where Aimee's used to be, well now that's a whole new family image, and that one will take some getting used to (if we get to that point).

For now, I am enjoying getting to know her, and beginning to watch her and Rowan get to know each other. It's all a bit surreal, and weird, and fun, and sad, and many other things as well. But one thing I feel very sure about:

Aimee would want this. I have not a second's hesitation about that. Aimee would want us to move on, build new relationships, find love, and round out our beautiful family. Maybe Sandra is that piece, maybe not. But I know I am doing the right thing.