Barry and I decided to leave our 9-5 jobs and pursue music full time in the same week that we found out we were pregnant with Russell, our firstborn.  One might say that was weird timing and not too based on logic, but the decision was made and we were young and excited about all of it.  We knew before Russell was born that we would need someone around to help care for him when we were working, as he would have to travel with us full-time.  We looked around at our friends and wondered if any of them would like to take him on.  Our dear friend, Amy Pack volunteered whole heartedly before he was even out of the womb!  Her job began in April of 1997 and she was our right hand girl immediately.  She strolled him around and played with him when we needed her on site and kept him entertained at home when she wasn't. She did early morning gigs and late night gigs.  She traveled with us and was consistently joyful in her work. She loved Russell and vice versa.  She was his one and only for two years. When she would get to the door, he would start jumping up and down. Life was good for him.

Amy had cystic fibrosis and we hardly noticed.  She was so seemingly unhindered by the disease that we were always surprised when it was time for her usual week or so in the hospital.  We would call her and visit her and wait for her to get out.  Once I even hard-core quizzed her about the condition.  I was so surprised to hear about the stuff she had to do every day just to maintain a somewhat normal life.  Traveling required special travel set ups and routines for her that I had not even been aware of.  I remember when she started talking about going on a Mission's trip to Honduras with her church.  If memory serves me, she pushed her parents incessantly to be allowed to go on this trip.  She was determined to get to do something like this and at long last, was given permission.  We sent her off with prayers and waited for her return. 

We soon got news that she was not doing well in Honduras. She was put in a clinic four days after arriving in Honduras and stayed
there in the clinic with the team until it was time to go home. They were there for 8 days and she was
in the hospital for three of them. She was wheeled off the
airplane at DFW with an oxygen tank and was immediately taken to the
hospital in Fort Worth.  She was
there for four weeks. She was really bad, and then she got better, and
then there was a rapid decline and the next thing we knew, we were waiting outside her hospital room.  When I say we, I mean tons of people. Amy was a friend to so many and the hospital hallway was crowded with those who loved her.  Her condition was critical. She had refused any artificial life support system and over the last couple of days, we knew it was the end.  We all hung out in the hallways in shock.  How could this unstoppable life force be leaving us?  I was pregnant with Ivy and had already fantasized about how much a baby girl of mine would adore Amy. I had the unspeakable privilege of singing around her bedside as she launched out into eternity. It was one of the most agonizing, beautiful things I have ever done.

On the day of her memorial, I became starkly aware that Russell and the Pattersons were really only one of a host of families that depended on and loved Amy. The church was packed with children.  Tigger balloons and toys were everywhere.  You have never seen a legacy like this.  Amy lived every single day of her life for other people.  And I want to as well.

This week, Russell and I are heading off to Honduras and I cannot stop thinking about Amy.  Honduras means something different to me than any other country I have visited.  Amy was determined to go.  She wanted to give of herself to that country and that choice cost us…her.  We are going to work with Forgotten Children Ministries for a week and I keep thinking of how happy Amy would about it.  Russell is 13 and knows Amy from pictures.  I have told him Amy's story again and again so that he will understand our connection to this country.  We will be doing what she was determined to do, with her in our hearts every minute.  Jim, Elaine, Stacy…..we honor Amy and we love you. Your daughter is still a force in our life and you must know it.