Losing Jordan

This year – November 2025 – will mark four long years since I got the knock on the door at 8:37 PM on Thanksgiving night.

Our bell had buzzed a few seconds before that. We live in a locked building where you have to be “let in”.

We pressed the buzzard button, as my youngest daughter looked out of the patio door – because we thought my older kiddo and her girlfriend had arrived. We had been waiting for them for hours, and while my oldest and I were texting each other all day – I stopped hearing from Jordan around 6:08 PM that night.

I had called my oldest and her girlfriend both several times and got no answers from either of them.

I messaged them both to see if they were still coming and what was going on – no answers from either of them.

So, when my bell buzzed, and I hit the button to open the outside door thinking it was them – and my youngest daughter looked out of the patio door telling me, “It’s the cops!” – I never would have thought they were here to knock on my door.

I figured they were for one of the other apartments in the building – two of them that have cops here often, so I never expected the knock on my door.

When I opened it – two male Sheriffs were standing there. One asked if “Tiffanie” was my daughter.

I said yes.

For those who don’t know, my daughter was a big LGBTQ advocate and part of that community.

Tiffanie told me at 14 that she felt like she liked girls, which wasn’t a big deal to me at all and I kind of already had a feeling. At 18 – she had her first real girlfriend and moved to Minnesota to get an apartment with this girl, and they were together for years. When they broke up and she met Katrina – they weren’t together that long before they moved in with Katrina’s family to find new jobs in a bigger city. Still Minnesota – but somewhere bigger.

At 19 – Tiffanie asked to be called “Jordan”, and said she wanted to be considered he/him – because she felt more boyish – than like a female. I had no issues with that, either and respected it. So, to hear the cops come to the door and ask if Tiffanie was daughter – it almost made me smile.

However – this is before I knew why they were there.

I thought maybe my kiddo and her new girlfriend had gotten into an argument and got themselves arrested. They were always arguing over the stupidest stuff. My mind never went to the “worst case scenario”.

They asked if they could step inside and talk to me for a moment. I let them in. They asked my older son if he could take the younger ones to another room. He took them to his room.

The sheriff who did most of the talking – started off by telling me:

“So, Tiffanie was involved in a pretty serious and violent car accident tonight”. He told me where.

The first thing I said was, “Oh my God! Where is she? Is she okay? Where did they take her?”.

I was ready to go! I was ready to get my shoes on and drive hours to wherever she was taken.

The quieter Sherriff gave me this look. He didn’t want to say anything, and he just stood there.

The one who did most of the talking looked at me and told me:

“No, she’s not okay. Unfortunately, she didn’t make it”.

You know that feeling where you just get bad news, and your entire body goes into shock? The feeling where everything goes numb, you have ringing in your ears, you can’t think straight, and your legs feel like Jello?

That’s exactly how I felt.

My legs became so weak, and I dropped to the ground. I remember screaming, “Noooo! No! No!”.

I told them I just talked to her a few hours ago. I begged them to tell me it’s not true. I begged them to call whoever was on the scene and tell them to check her. Check her again. I told them maybe her vitals are just too low, and they’re wrong. Whoever said she was “gone” – is wrong! CHECK HER AGAIN.

I kept begging the Sheriffs to call the ones on the scene of the accident.

I was told she was checked several times, and she’s gone.

I sat with my back against my front closet door. I sat on the floor with my head in my hands trying to think of what to do. What to say. How to handle this. I tried to beg God to let it be a mistake.

The sheriff who remained quiet most of that time – kneeled down next to me, rubbed my back – and kept telling me how sorry he was. He tried to comfort me as much as he could.

I looked up at the other Sheriff and asked, “Katrina, too?”. He nodded his head and told me, “Katrina, too!”.

He said it sounds like both were killed on impact, so they didn’t suffer. He wasn’t making me feel any better, but I know he was doing his best. Both of them were. This is something that NO COP – NO SHERIFF – no first responder wants to have to go tell a parent – especially on a holiday like Thanksgiving.

I can’t even imagine how they felt having to come inform me of my child’s death.

I remember standing up that night and asking my older son where my keys are. I was looking for my keys.

I wanted to go to the scene of the accident. I wanted to go to the coroner’s – because I knew they were taking my child there. I had to see my kiddo. I wanted to see my kiddo. I almost felt like I had to make sure for myself that Tiffie “Jordan” was really gone. I didn’t want it to be true. I needed to make sure myself that there was no heartbeat – even the smallest one. I had to see for myself that there were no vitals at all.

Unfortunately, my kids heard me scream and they came out of the room asking what happened, so I had to tell them. They were so heartbroken, and at that moment – I just remember trying to figure out what I did with my keys, so I could go to my oldest child and be with her.

The Sheriffs told me how sorry they were – but they couldn’t let me leave. Not in the condition I was in, and they explained that they don’t need or want me getting into a car accident – driving upset and not thinking clearly.

One of them told me, “We can stay with you for as long as you want and need us to, but we can’t let you drive like this”.

One of the Sheriffs offered to go outside with me if I wanted to smoke.

I told him I don’t smoke. He told me if I wanted him to go with me outside to just get air – he would.

I appreciated so much – the fact that they offered to stay as long as I wanted them to, but I just wanted to leave. I wanted to go see the scene of the accident and my kiddo. Still, they wouldn’t let me.

That night is still somewhat of a blur – and I don’t even remember now if I found my keys or not.

I do know that the Sheriffs handed me a book about what to do if your loved one is killed in a car crash, and they gave me a bunch of numbers to call the next day – including the Sargeant who was on scene at the accident that night.

They told me the scene would be “reconstructed”, and a detective would get in touch with me.

I was told there was wife and husband who were driving behind them, and saw the entire thing happen. From what they said – they said Katrina was driving just fine – until she wasn’t. She started swerving, went to the shoulder of the road and tried to correct herself, but overcorrected – and crossed the center line. A pickup truck coming in the opposite direction – couldn’t stop on time – and slammed into the car Katrina and my kiddo were in.

Both my kiddo and her girlfriend were ejected.

That explained why neither of them answered me when I was calling and texting them to see where they were.

They were also killed up near Katrina’s families house – which meant they were still two hours away for some reason. I later learned that Katrina’s stepmother asked Katrina if she could take her other daughter to her friend’s house before they came here. They had just dropped Katrina’s stepsister off 20 minutes before the accident happened.

After the Sheriffs left, I threw the book they gave me and yelled, “I don’t want that shit!”.

Frankie picked it up and he was reading it as I sat on the couch just staring at nothing. I had no idea how to feel, what to think, what to do, who to call. I was numb. I was in shock.

Frankie told me, “Mom, it says here you can’t forget to take care of yourself. You can’t forget to eat”.

I was so hurt and confused; I asked him who the hell forgets to eat.

I do obviously!

The next day – I was so busy; I didn’t eat until almost 9 PM.

After the Sheriffs left that, I went in my bedroom, turned all the lights off, sat on my bedroom floor against the door – and cried. I tried calling Tiffie “Jordan” again and again, and no answer. I prayed it wasn’t true.

I called my brother first. My now ex-sister-in-law answered. I told her what happened. My brother was sleeping because he had to go to work. When I told her, she woke him up and told him – with me on the phone. He asked if Tiffie was okay. Hearing my now ex-sister-in-law say, “No, she’s not. She didn’t make it!” – broke my heart all over again. My brother and ex-sister-in-law went to tell my mother. My mother and father took it so hard of course!

Tiffie was their first grandchild.

She had a close relationship with my mom and dad.

She had a close relationship with my brother – who was also her Godfather.

My mom didn’t even give me a chance to tell anyone else – because when we hung up – she got on the phone with family and anyone she could call. That was fine with me because I really didn’t want to call anyone else. Everyone started calling me. The news spread like wildfire.

My cousin was the first to call and ask me what the hell happened. We were both crying.

This happened on a Thursday night.

Friday – between talking to the funeral home I picked, Tiffie / Jordan’s friends, my friends and family – and other people – Friday was insane. It was busy. I was making funeral arrangements – while different calls from different people came in – wanting to know what happened and if it was true or not. I didn’t eat at all that day.

I was calling the police and Sargeant who were on scene that night. I was calling the detective who was working the reconstruction. I was on the phone with so many people Friday – that finally – at almost 9 that night, I had to get out. I had to get some air, so I took a ride and finally remembered I hadn’t eaten all day. I stopped and got a bagel and coffee and just sat in a parking lot – trying to make sense of everything.

Let me also say that on Thursday when this happened – a few hours after the Sheriffs left, I got a message on Facebook from some guy saying he was Katrina’s uncle. He said he thinks Katrina was the only one killed, because they said a 22-year-old on the news – (yes, it was already on the Minnesota news by that time). He said Katrina was 22. I told him she was 19. He continued to say she was 22, and I told him there was no way, because Tiffie turned 21 that August – and wanted to go to a bar or Casino, and Katrina couldn’t go because she wasn’t old enough yet.

I didn’t understand how this guy claimed to be Katrina’s uncle, but didn’t know her age. Yet – somehow – someway – I wanted to have hope and hold on to the thought that maybe he was right, and maybe – just maybe – the fire department – the police – the paramedics on scene that night – were wrong about my daughter not making it. Maybe they were able to bring her back to life, and she was at a hospital somewhere.

Maybe I would get a call to come see her at the hospital.

I was up all-night Thursday into Friday holding on to hope that I’d get that call – but it never happened.

That Saturday I believe it was – I pulled into the parking lot of a funeral home in the nearest city. I sat in my car for a few minutes and just tried to breath and remain calm. I cried of course, and when I let it all out, I pulled myself together and walked in – to meet Kevin. His family owns the funeral home, and he and his brother run it most of the time.

When the Sheriffs were at the house Thanksgiving night, they asked if I had any religious objections to an Autopsy. I said no. I needed them to do one. I wanted them to do one. I needed and wanted to know what injury was so bad – my child couldn’t be saved. What injury took her life. I was also told I had to pick the funeral home because the medical examiner will call them to come get the body once they’re finished. The Sheriffs apologized many times for having to come tell me the news, and for having to ask those questions, but I knew it was their job.

Saturday – I met with Kevin.

He gave me a big hug and told me how sorry he was for my loss. He agreed that children are supposed to bury their parents at an old age. Parents should never have to bury one of their children.

I tried so hard to hold it together, but I lost it. I broke down and started crying so hard. I told him I never thought I’d be sitting in a funeral home – making arrangements for one of my kids. I told him how I can’t stop thinking that my child was laying their suffering and struggling to stay alive – and she couldn’t. How scared Tiffie must have been right before it happened.

Kevin asked if I liked dogs. I said yes. He told me he would be right back.

He came back with a beautiful Golden retriever – (an emotional support dog).

This dog was bringing his toys to me to throw, and he’d go catch them and brought them right back. A few times – he threw them in the air himself and caught them – which made me laugh. This dog sat right by me and let me hug him – pet him – and love him. He was great! ❤ He totally did his job.

Kevin then asked if I believe in God. I said yes.

He told me that he believes that the accident was no surprise to God. God knew it was going to happen, and that it was Tiffie and Katrina’s time to go be with him. He said right before the accident, he believes that God had his guardian angels come down – and wrap their arms around Tiffie and Katrina just as the impact happened and took their souls – so they didn’t feel any pain.

I truly want to believe that, but I guess only the good Lord knows. I know Kevin was trying so hard to make me feel a little better, but I still always wonder if – even for a few seconds – Tiffie was alive and suffered before she passed. It kills me and crushes my heart when I think about it, and how scared she may have been knowing impact was coming. I still have so many unanswered questions that only they know.

That only God knows.

The entire road they were on – was shut down for hours that night for investigations, witness statements, and clean up.

I made the arrangements and filled out the paperwork. Kevin told me he would call me when they released Tiffie’s body, and they go pick her up. Kevin asked if I wanted to see her. I decided to have her cremated. The thought of one of my kid’s being underground – just didn’t sit right with me. I wanted her home with us.

A few days before the accident happened – Her and her girlfriend got into a huge argument, and I begged Tiffie to come home. To live with me until she found another place of her own. I’m not going to get into details, but this new relationship she got herself into – wasn’t the best for many reasons, and I even told Tiffie if she decided to leave this new girl and come live with me for a while – she can have my bedroom. I’d sleep on the couch. Tiffie was stubborn though and wanted to work things out with this new girl.

The day before the accident – I wanted Tiffie to spend the night, so she could spend the day with us. She really wanted to – but she didn’t want her new girlfriend to be mad. I wanted to go pick Tiffie up the day before Thanksgiving, and now I think about all the “What-if’s”.

I know it doesn’t change God’s will. He does what he wants, and I know I shouldn’t question it – but still – I always wonder if she’d still be here if I picked her up the night before.

The funeral home got Tiffie and called me. Kevin said she was in pretty bad shape and asked if I was sure I wanted to see her. I did. I had to. I wanted to say my final goodbyes.

Tiffie had become really close to her tattoo artist. I used to joke with Tiffie “Jordan” and tell her she was starting to look like a kid’s coloring book – because Tiffie Jordan kept getting so many tattoos in random places on her body. His body. (I know I say her, but it’s just because it’s less confusing for some people). I still respect my kiddo as he/him. ❤

Anyway, Tiff “Jordan’s” tattoo guy and his wife wanted to say their goodbyes because of how close they were with Tiffie and Katrina. They met me and my brother (who flew out from Chicago to be with me during that time) – at the funeral home. They went into first because they had to get somewhere. When they came out – her tattoo guy grabbed me, hugged me and we both cried. He said she looks so different. I asked if it was bad. He just gave me a look – so I already knew.

My brother and I went in, and Kevin warned me again that she’s pretty roughed up. He asked if I was sure. I said yes. We walked into the room they had her in, and he told me, “She’s over here to the left”. When I looked – I cried. I cried a lot over those long days, weeks and months that went by after the accident. My brother gave me time alone with her, and all I could do was rub her arm, look at her and ask, “What happened that night baby?”. I wished so much – that she could tell me.

She looked awful. She was so banged up. Bruised up.

I was told by the Sargeant that was on scene that night – that if I do go see her when the funeral home gets her – NOT to look below the waist. I asked if she was still intact. He told me she was still intact – but below the waist “got it the worst”. I didn’t even ask any more questions. I never looked below the waist – and from the Autopsy report I received in the mail many weeks later – I was glad I didn’t. The Silverado that slammed into them – got Tiffie Jordan’s side first and she was the passenger.

I saw photos of the car. It was Katrina’s car, so her stepmother, father and family – went to go clear it out, see how it looked, and took those photos.

They also sent me photos of the Silverado the elderly couple was driving.

When I talked to the Sargeant and one of the main police officers who were on scene that night – they both told me that the elderly couple felt horrible. The elderly man driving the Silverado tried to slam on his breaks and couldn’t. It all happened so fast, and when they asked about the people in the car – and they were told those girls didn’t make it – the elderly woman cried and felt so guilty. She was injured pretty badly as well.

I never once was angry or upset with the elderly couple. Drugs and alcohol in their case was ruled out. The elderly couple was sober – and they were on the way to a cabin they owned. They did nothing wrong. They just couldn’t stop on time. In fact, I wanted to reach out to them once I heard how hurt and bothered – they were by the deaths of my kiddo and her girlfriend, but the detective thought it would be a good idea to wait until the investigation was over.

My kiddo was cremated, and when her ashes were ready, the funeral home called me. I went to go get them. The lady asked if I wanted her to carry the ashes in the box – to my car. I cried again and told her, “I haven’t carried Jordan since she was little. I’ll take her”. When I got to the car – I whispered, “Let’s go home baby!”. She wasn’t coming home with me the way I wanted her to – alive and well – but it gives me some sense of peace knowing even in her / his Black and Silver urn I purchased to put the ashes in – Jordan is home now with us. ❤

Many weeks after the accident – the police released Jordan’s wallet to me. They released Katrina’s cell phone to her family. I have no idea where Tiffie Jordan’s cell phone was – but I believe Katrina’s family has it. They won’t tell me though, and the phones were so badly damaged – we can’t even turn them on to tell which phone belongs to which one of our kiddos.

Katrina’s family allows me to go over there and get all of Tiffie Jordan’s things.

It did make me laugh a little because some of my hoodies and jerseys would go missing, and when I went to go through everything at their house to grab Tiffie’s stuff – I sat there with my youngest daughter laughing, as I said:

“Here’s where this hoodie went. Hey, this jersey is mine! Dude, I’ve been looking for this and this….”.

Tiffie “Jordan” had a lot of the clothes I thought I lost. It was a sad situation, but that moment was kind of funny. It gave us something to laugh about it for a few minutes.

We joked that Tiffie was probably watching from heaven and smirking, saying:

“Oh man! If I was there, I’d be in so much trouble right now!”. ha.

(to be continued…)