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Mandy's Memorial, 4031 Highway 17 Byp, Murrells Inlet, SC (2025)

01/21/2025

Ten years ago, late on a dreary winter day, Pete and I received a phone call that would change our lives forever. The details of that evening have blurred in my memory, but I can still recall the immense feeling of disbelief that overwhelmed me as if I were floating through someone else’s strange dream. I wanted to escape, but I was frozen in my tracks. My heart was filled with agonizing pain, and yet I felt numb all over. Some of Mandy’s friends and co-workers huddled around as we all waited for answers, but I had never before felt so detached from the world. Looking back, I know that it was just the beginning of learning to live without Mandy while also learning to cope with the vast array of emotions that would become a part of my everyday life from that day on. And I can honestly say, without any hesitation whatsoever, that losing Mandy was absolutely the worst experience of my life.

Since then we have lived through 3,653 days of waking each morning with the realization that what were once everyday pleasures and enjoyable experiences with Mandy had ceased to exist. There would be no more phone calls or messages. We were abruptly denied any more impromptu dinners with her on her break from work. There would be no more planning birthday or holiday celebrations together. Mandy would never again ask us to help her paint her condo or choose a new couch. Pete would no longer assume responsibility to ensure that the oil was changed in her car or the windshield wipers were replaced as needed. I would never again hurry to make chicken soup if Mandy said she was catching a cold.

Suddenly our lives were divided into two distinct phases – before we lost Mandy and after. The first few months of my “after Mandy” were made bearable because of the unwavering support of our loving family and friends, the guidance of our amazing grief counselor, and our decision to create ways to honor Mandy. Then midway through our first year of grief, Matt established this memorial page, and I began to write about missing Mandy while trying to accept the changes that were thrust mercilessly upon me. It’s been therapeutic for me to put my thoughts into words and see them before my eyes in stark black and white. I’ve written about Mandy’s childhood, school years, work life, and all her wonderful qualities. I’ve written about my personal journey through my grief and all the emotions that bombard me when least expected. I’ve searched for meaningful articles and books that might help to console me, and I’ve shared quotes that proved to be of comfort to me.

Along the way I’ve come to realize that at some point in our lives, we all have things happen to us that we are unable to control, but it’s important to remember that we are able to control how we react to them. I’ve been driven by a desire to ensure that Mandy is not forgotten. And as strange as it may seem, I also feel compelled to conduct myself in ways that would make Mandy proud to call me her mother just as I have always been proud to call her my daughter.

I believe that Mandy will always be with me, and I’m open to the signs she shows me when she is near. Pete and I see Mandy’s signs every day and everywhere. And it’s not just cupcakes and yellow butterflies. There are special songs on the car radio, mashed potatoes with gravy, Cabbage Patch dolls, pineapples, hair scrunchies, and so many more. I’m grateful for these daily reminders that fill my heart with love, and I will continue to look for them.

In these years of “after Mandy”, I’ve often gone through all the photos Pete and I have amassed, and I’ve savored the memories they evoke. I’ll always wish that there had been time to make more memories, but I’ll be forever grateful for the years we had together.

I’ve come to realize how important it is to always be kind and do what you can to help others who may be hurting. I’ll be forever grateful for those who have shown me kindness, and I’ll do what I can to pay it forward.

I’ve learned the truth to be found in the saying that sometimes the simple things are the best. I find pleasure in listening to my favorite songs, walking along the beach, or simply sitting in the sunshine on the patio. I know that not every day will be a good one, and sometimes just getting through a day can be an accomplishment. But hopefully those not-so-good days will only serve to make me more appreciative of the good days.

You may have noticed that these last few paragraphs conclude with thoughts of gratitude. I’ll continue to be grateful for all the blessings in my life because gratitude can lead to contentment. And I’ll continue to be grateful for all the joy that Mandy brought into my life and the lives of many others. But no matter how many years go by, I will forever wish for one more day with her because I’ll forever be .

To quote Lexi Berhndt, “I could only be grateful when I realized that I would rather have known you for a moment than never at all. I would rather endure this inexplicable pain of outliving you than to have never seen your face, spoken your name. I would rather be yours, you be mine, regardless. Regardless of the sorrow, the sleepless nights, and the years I will walk this earth, carrying you in my heart. “

12/30/2024

Holidays can be especially difficult for those of us who are missing a loved one, and this year Pete and I certainly were not looking forward to facing our tenth Christmas without Mandy. To make matters worse, for the past five weeks we’ve been dealing with a couple water leaks that produced serious damage to our guest bedroom and bath. We’ve stood by as plumbers, contractors, and an insurance adjustor spent hours at a time doing whatever was necessary to complete the repairs. We’ve lived with bedroom furniture relocated to every available nook and cranny throughout the house. We’ve dealt with hammering, drilling, and various other noises and odors. We’ve watched as a new layer of dust covered every flat surface in our home on a sometimes daily basis. And through it all we’ve tried to remain patient knowing that these things can happen to any of us. But the worst of it was that we were unable to have Matt and Missy visit us over the holidays this year so we postponed our family Christmas celebration until January.

Knowing that we would be alone on Christmas Day, Pete and I thought that we would just relax and enjoy the peace and quiet of an ordinary day. But when we awoke on Christmas morning we were reminded of a Christmas video from 40 years ago and we decided to watch it once again. The year was 1984, and we didn’t own a video camera, but our friends Don and Donna were kind enough to lend us one for Christmas morning. They didn’t seem to think twice about it because they were only planning to use it when they had their family gathering on Christmas Eve. And so it came to be that we were able to preserve some wonderful footage of Matt and Mandy opening presents that year. Preserved that is until a few years ago when we discovered that many of our tapes had begun to deteriorate. Matt did everything possible to save as many as he could, but sadly the quality had declined.

As we watched that video last week, I discovered that the quality was no longer important to me. Although the lighting was low and the colors were faded, the images in my mind were as bright and colorful as ever. I was magically transported back to a time when all was right in my world…when our two adorable children were filled with the excitement of the holiday, and our home was filled with joy and laughter. I watched as 3-year-old Mandy initially stood transfixed before the tree, marveling at all the packages Santa had delivered, but not knowing where to begin. I watched as 6 year-old Matt began opening his gifts, commenting on each one before moving on to the next. I watched as Matt realized that Mandy seemed to be overwhelmed with choices and he chose to gently suggest to her that she open this present or that one next. As always Matt was the perfect big brother, treating his little sister with kindness and helping her whenever needed. And as the video came to a close, I was smiling through my tears, and my heart was once again filled with gratitude for the blessings I’ve been given in my life.

If there’s a moral to be found in my ramblings, I would say it’s a reminder how important it is to always be kind. Kindness truly does matter, and it often comes at no cost. A kind deed may elicit a smile, a word of thanks, or an occasional “you don’t know how much that means to me.” In reality we may never know the lasting impact our kindness has on another, but for Pete and me, our Christmas Day this year was so much better than it might have been because of a kindness extended to us 40 years ago. Thanks again Donna!

12/14/2024

There are so many things in my everyday life that bring on memories of Mandy, but probably none more so than cupcakes. Mandy first became serious about baking while working at The Index Journal in Greenwood, SC, and it was there that she began taking cupcakes to the newsroom for various reasons – holidays, the birthdays of her co-workers, and special events. Sometimes she would deliver cupcakes to the pressmen who printed the paper just to show her appreciation for them after she had to ask them to make last minute changes, and sometimes she would bake something special for a friend experiencing difficulties of one sort or another. She soon came to be known to friends and family as the “Cupcake Queen”, and when she moved to Myrtle Beach to take a position at The Sun News, the title followed her as she continued to bake all kinds of cupcakes to share with others.

In the years since Mandy passed away, Pete and I have received many wonderful cupcake keepsakes from family and friends. We love them all because they elicit smiles and memories of Mandy, and just as importantly, they remind us of all the people who also miss Mandy and the joy she brought to their lives. We display these various cupcake items, along with photos of Mandy, throughout the house where they will always comfort my heart and bring peace to my soul.

Then the other day I bought myself a little memento that I just couldn’t pass up. I was in Target looking for a few things for Christmas when I came across the little ceramic cupcake in my photo. I noticed the three holes in the top and I turned it over to see that it was labeled as a sprinkle shaker. I smiled as I thought that Mandy would have loved it, and I could imagine the two of us there giggling about it. I even managed to conjure up visions of Mandy covering freshly iced cupcakes with sprinkles just because it was fun to use the sprinkler.

With that being said, it’s time to get to the purpose of this post and remind everyone that tomorrow is National Cupcake Day once again. In the midst of the holiday season, December 15th has become a day when Pete and I take time to enjoy a couple cupcakes in special remembrance of our sweet Cupcake Queen. Tomorrow we will continue our tradition, and whether or not you choose to indulge in a cupcake, please join us in taking a minute or two to remember Mandy.

11/18/2024

Pete and I were out and about one day last month when I suggested that we stop at one of our local pottery outlets just to stroll through the new holiday décor. While there I took the opportunity to look through all their regular merchandise as well. I was in the open stock of dinnerware when I came upon a display of pitchers shaped like cows. I stood there smiling as my thoughts turned back the years and my mind was suddenly flooded with memories of Mandy and the fascination she once had with cows. If I remember correctly, she was in middle school at the time, and when her birthday rolled around, everything about her party was cow-themed, including the decorations, the cake, and even most of her gifts. With all those memories floating through my head, I stood there debating whether to buy one or whether it was just silly of me to consider it. I asked Pete what he thought about it, and he said that we had no choice but to bring one home with us.

Let me explain that I’ve had a love of pottery for most of my life. It all began years ago when my mother passed along some pieces that had belonged either to her or to my grandmother. There weren’t a lot of items, just some old crocks, some earthenware flower pots, and a couple pitchers. At first I wasn’t sure what I would do with them, but as time went on I began to appreciate them for the family connection they brought with them. Through the years I’ve added some pieces that I’ve discovered in antique stores as well as some that I’ve found at craft fairs where I’ve been able to meet and speak with the potters.

I’ve always kept the crocks in various places throughout the house because some are fairly large, but a few months ago I brought my pitchers out of storage and displayed them in my kitchen. So when I brought this latest purchase home, I looked over my collection and wondered if a whimsical cow pitcher belonged among my rather practical, plain pitchers. Eventually I decided to add it to the shelf and live with it for a few days before I considered returning it.

For the next week or so, whenever I looked up at that cow, I found myself still debating whether it should remain with the rest of my pitchers. And then while our nephew Turner was visiting the beach with his girlfriend Olivia, we brought them to our house one day. Olivia looked over the display and when she came to that cow she smiled, and without any hesitation, she said that it was her favorite. It was then I knew that the cow had found a home. It no longer mattered whether it “looked right” among the others, it didn’t matter if it stood out because it was “different”; it only mattered that it brought me thoughts of Mandy and smiles from others when I explain its presence on the shelf.

Since then the cow and the connection I feel to it has reminded me that there is no right or wrong way to grieve the loss of a loved one. I only know that for me, it’s important to always remember all the happy times with Mandy, and this cow (I think I’ll call her Moo-belle) evokes loving memories of Mandy. Adding Moo-belle to my family treasures has extended the embrace of my family connection in my beloved pottery another generation – Nana, Mom, me, and Mandy.

Mandy had a great sense of humor, and she enjoyed bringing smiles to others because the truth is that girls really do just want to have fun! And now I’ve discovered that Moo-belle has the ability to elicit smiles too. I have to believe that Mandy is smiling at the sight of that cow, and I’m pretty sure that Mom and Nana are chuckling along with her.

08/12/2024

In these years following Mandy’s passing, grief has become my constant, albeit unwelcome, companion. Sometimes I’m overwhelmed with sadness, and I long for just one more opportunity to spend a few hours with my precious daughter. At other times a memory of some long ago day will cross my mind and my heart is warmed as I envision the beauty in her smile and the sparkle in her eyes. Regardless of the state of my emotions, there is never a day without thoughts of Mandy drifting through my mind. As a result, I have reconsidered my beliefs on the grieving process. I cannot support any theory that suggests a series of stages that a mourner must work through one at a time. I cannot endorse any one emotion as the most challenging, the most painful, or the most demanding. And I find it difficult to imagine that anyone who has truly loved someone has ever been able to confirm that they have come to accept their loss and have found “closure”.

My grief is forever fluctuating and never ending. In those early years of my grief I mourned that the fact that Mandy had been robbed of her future. She had been deprived of so much precious time – time to add to her professional accomplishments, time to welcome new friends into her life, time to plan more parties and celebrations, time to enjoy fun-filled days at amusement parks, time to travel to foreign shores, time to float down lazy rivers, time to watch the sunrise above the ocean, time to bake cupcakes to share with family and friends, time to do any of the things she loved doing with all the cherished people in her life.

However, I’ve recently been wrestling with a new aspect to my grief that is particularly difficult to explain. I’m heartbroken that Mandy never had the opportunity to experience growing old. Let me first explain that I wouldn’t wish for her to endure a range of aches and pains that would require physician interventions or medication. I wouldn’t want her to deal with vision, hearing, or any other sensory loss. And I certainly wouldn’t want her to feel the frustration of being unable to recall details or find the appropriate word to express a thought. But once again, I would wish her more time – time to quietly reflect on the decades of her life and remember all the smiles, laughter, and even the tears.

I would wish Mandy time to recall the headlines in her life - her carefree childhood, her school years, her work life, and all that she achieved during those years.

I would wish Mandy time to browse through all the photos she had taken to document her adventures and smile as she recalled all those happy days.

I would wish Mandy time to sit on the beach recalling lazy days on vacations with family and friends. I would wish her time to recall all the hours she spent strolling along the water’s edge looking for shells or sitting on the sand building castles. I would wish her time to remember how she loved falling asleep while contentedly listening to the waves breaking on the shoreline.

I would wish Mandy time to reminisce with friends about long-ago parties and how they made decorations, created their own games, and came up with costumes to fit the party theme. I would wish her time to look back and remember concerts, casual meals at favorite restaurants, and stopping for a drink with co-workers before heading home after a long day.

I would wish Mandy time to recall all the moments when she brought joy to others by baking them cupcakes for no particular reason other than to remind them that she cared about them and she was happy to have them in her life.

I would wish Mandy time to look back on a life well-lived – a life filled with family and friends, a life filled with an abundance of sunny days and just an occasional storm, a life filled with accomplishments and challenges met, a life filled with laughter and fun... And above all, I would wish for her to find contentment in knowing just how deeply she was loved by so many.

04/15/2024

Last week Pete and I decided that it was time to tackle some spring yard chores. So Monday morning Pete went out to mow the grass and I chose to plant some of the flowers I had picked up over the weekend. After a while we headed to the garage to take a break. I got some water from the refrigerator, and as we sat down to relax neither of us noticed that our radio was not playing. I’m inclined to believe that if we had thought about it, I would have assumed that Pete had neglected to turn it on that morning and he may have thought the same for me. Anyway, the silence was suddenly broken as Cyndi Lauper began to belt out “Girls Just Want to Have Fun”. We looked at each other and laughed knowing that we both consider this song as a sign from Mandy whenever we hear it. The reality was that our radio station had evidently experienced some “dead air”, but to us it was Mandy making her presence known.

When Mandy passed away so unexpectedly Pete, Matt, Missy, and I were suddenly thrust into making funeral arrangements without the slightest knowledge of what Mandy might have preferred. There were countless decisions to be made and some required lengthy discussions to come to an agreement. As far as the musical selections were concerned, I had no desire to go the route of customary funeral dirges. After all, Mandy was a vibrant young woman who had been taken too soon, and I wanted her to be remembered as a happy, fun-loving person. So with our living room filled with family members one evening, we listened to a multitude of songs waiting for emotional connections. And oddly enough one of our connections was with a rather unconventional choice – the eccentric Cyndi Lauper’s “Girls Just Want to Have Fun” that we decided to play at the end of our memorial service for Mandy.

Looking back on the many arrangements we made with the funeral home, there are some things I might do differently if we could go back in time, but I’m more than certain that the music would remain the same. While there were a few times early on in our grief that I may have felt just a twinge of regret for choosing Cyndi’s raucous song, I am no longer concerned whether someone may have found it inappropriate. Through the years there have been countless times when our emotions have been hitting rock-bottom and then “Girls” comes on whatever we’re listening to, and it lifts our spirits. At other times it seems as if Mandy is reassuring us that whatever we are doing is exactly what we should be doing. And it always elicits memories of our own sweet girl just having fun as only she could do. It reminds us that Mandy’s spirit will always be with us and we have no choice but to smile.

I’ve chosen to attach the photos below because they are prime examples of Mandy’s talent for turning any experience into an adventure. The first photo was taken when she attended the Aynor Hoedown celebration with friends one year. Because she loved to dress appropriately for any occasion, she donned a gingham dress with a cowboy hat and boots. And then somehow she managed to pose for a couple quick photos atop a John Deere tractor. A few months later she recreated the experience by crafting her own “wearable” tractor to complete her look for a party.

So today I’m thinking that sometimes it’s worth the risk to forge ahead with a gut reaction. We chose an upbeat song for a solemn occasion, and in the course of time it has helped us to remember Mandy for all the love and laughter she brought into our lives. It’s a song that reminds us how Mandy chose to have fun whenever and wherever she could, how she chose to be bold enough to express her individuality by dressing for the occasion, and how she chose to throw caution to the wind by acting silly sometimes. And while it’s also a song that will forever remind us how much we miss Mandy, I know that we will always smile through our tears when we hear it.

01/21/2024

No farewell words were spoken, no time to say goodbye. You were gone before we knew it, and only God knows why.

01/15/2024

A few years ago I mentioned in one of my ramblings that I had always liked the song “Closing Time”, especially the line “every new beginning comes from some other beginning’s end”. For most of my life, I heard that line as a message that no matter what I was leaving behind, a new opportunity would be waiting just ahead. And so as I celebrated the coming of each new year, I believed that I could leave my past behind and make a fresh start by resolving to make some changes that could improve my life in one way or another. But January 21, 2015 brought a tragic end to a very special part of my life that had begun with Mandy’s birth, and my new beginning that followed meant facing a future without her. I knew that I would miss absolutely everything about Mandy, but it was particularly disheartening to realize that I would never see her beautiful face with her bright smile and those amazing blue eyes ever again.

In the years since that fateful day, I have confronted the turning of the calendar knowing that the new beginning brought by January would be accompanied by a solemn reminder that I would be facing another year without Mandy. It now seems inconceivable that we are heading into our tenth year of missing Mandy and the joy she brought into our lives. It feels like an eternity and yet it feels like yesterday. I remember getting that dreadful call from Mandy’s friends asking if she was with Pete and me because she was not at work and she had not reported off. I remember being told that she hadn’t answered her phone when they tried to call her and she didn’t come to her door when they went to her condo. I remember being struck with fear when Pete told them to call 911 as we headed out to join them. I remember standing in the parking lot throughout the dismal evening, surrounded by emergency vehicles and personnel, as we waited for an explanation that would never be forthcoming. I remember experiencing an overwhelming emptiness, and I was helpless to overcome it.

In the first few days after losing Mandy, Pete and I were faced with making decisions that no parent should ever have to contend with, but somehow we managed to make it through with the support of our loved ones. A few weeks later we realized that we needed to ensure that Mandy would be remembered for all her wonderful qualities. And then just four months later we acted on our desire to tell Mandy’s story as we stood in the auditorium of her high school and presented the first two Mandy Criswell Memorial Scholarships. I struggled to hold back my tears as I looked into the eyes of the students we were honoring and I was captivated by the smiles on their faces. And in that moment joy began to trickle into my heart once again.

Over the past nine years we have presented scholarships to 37 deserving and appreciative students. And while it wasn’t the new beginning we would have hoped for that January, it was the beginning of a new era for us…one where we’ve found peace in the smiling faces of young adults who are embarking on their own new beginnings.

Mandy's Memorial

01/21/2025

12/30/2024

12/14/2024

11/18/2024

08/12/2024

04/15/2024

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