As we celebrated my daughter’s 14th birthday with a steak dinner, I couldn’t have felt happier. But little did I know, the heartbreak that lay in store… By Whitney Tollison, 41
As I tidied the house, I heard the front door swing open.
‘Mum, I got you a coffee,’ a voice shouted.
It was my daughter Madison, and as soon as I saw her cheeky smile, I grew suspicious.
‘Thanks, but what’s this for?’
I said.
She disappeared and returned holding a cage.
‘These guinea pigs need a home,’ she said.
I shook my head and laughed.
Madison, 18, had a big heart and was always rescuing animals.
It was hard to say no to her or my other daughters, Kaitlyn, 16, and Jeslyn, 13.
They were wonderful kids who studied hard and made me a proud mum.
But, like any mum of teenage girls, I worried.
So, to put my mind at rest, they agreed to me putting a locator app on their phones.
When Jeslyn’s 14th birthday rolled around, we went to
an arcade, then tucked in to
a steak dinner.
‘Happy birthday, Jeslyn!’ we shouted, as we clinked our drinks.
Her boyfriend and my partner were celebrating with us too, and as I sat there with my beautiful girls, I couldn’t have felt happier.
Christmas was a few weeks away, so Jeslyn started putting up festive decorations she’d bought.
‘What do you think, Mum?’ she asked.
‘It looks great,’ I replied.
She adored Christmas, and took charge of decorating the tree too.
Once she had finished, I popped presents under it for each of the girls.
Next morning, I dropped Jeslyn off at school and drove to hospital, as I needed spinal surgery.
When I came around after the operation, I had a text from Jeslyn telling me Madison and Kaitlyn were going to pick her up.
'Where are the girls?'
I loved how they looked after each other.
I wanted to go home, but I was told I needed to stay the night.
The girls were worried, so I FaceTimed them to put their minds at rest.
After telling me about her day at school, I asked Madison: ‘What are you all doing for dinner?’
‘We’re about to head off to a restaurant,’ she replied.
As I ended the call, I told them all: ‘Bye, I love you.’
I enjoyed the thought of them sharing quality sister time together.
Later, I messaged Kaitlyn to see how she was, as she’d mentioned that she wasn’t feeling well.
It was strange when she didn’t reply, and instinct told me to check the locator app.
It showed Madison and Kaitlyn had stopped not far from home, so I thought: They must be at traffic lights.
According to the app, Jeslyn was at her dad’s. But minutes later, my sister Shanna called.
‘Where are the girls?’ she said. ‘I’ve heard about a car crash in your area.’
I checked the app again. It seemed the girls hadn’t moved since I’d last checked.
‘They must be stuck in traffic caused by the accident,’ I told Shanna.
After hanging up, I tried calling each of the girls.
But it either went to voicemail or there was no answer.
Then, their dad rang.
‘Madison and Kaitlyn have been in a car crash,’ he said.
Panic rose up inside of me.
‘Oh my God,’ I replied. ‘Are they OK? Is Jeslyn with you?’
‘I’m at the crash site,’ he said. ‘I’m waiting for the police to give me some news.’
My heart sank.
‘The girls were together when they visited me earlier,’ he explained. ‘But I don’t know where Jeslyn is now.’
I felt helpless.
All I could do was sit in my hospital bed and wait.
A few minutes later, the girls’ dad phoned me back.
‘We’ve lost Madison and Kaitlyn,’ he said.
‘No!’ I shouted.
I broke down in tears,
and thought: How could this have happened?
Then I thought: What about Jeslyn?
'They must be stuck in traffic'
I prayed she was safe, and phoned Shanna and asked her to go to my house to see if she was there.
Then my mum rang in tears.
‘Jeslyn’s gone,’ she said.
My whole body felt numb.
Mum explained that she was at the crash site too.
I tried to take in what she told me next.
It had taken so long for Jeslyn to be found, as her body had been flung out through the car window.
I sat in disbelief, trying to understand how all three of
my girls’ lives had been wiped out in an instant.
It felt like my world had stopped.
I was desperate to get out of hospital, and the nurses agreed to discharge me.
My brother Michael collected me and drove me to the funeral home.
When I saw my girls’ lifeless bodies, it felt as if my heart had shattered into a million pieces.
I knew they were gone forever.
But I wasn’t allowed to stroke their hair or hold their hands, as postmortems needed to be carried out.
Back home, the house was
so silent.
It was hard to believe I’d never again hear them stepping through the front door as they came home from school, or laughing in the living room.
My community raised £26,000 to cover the funeral costs, and I buried my girls with some of the Christmas gifts I’d never get to see them open.
We played their favourite songs, including Peanut Butter Jelly Time, as Madison and Kaitlyn loved to put that song on to get on my nerves.
I stared at the three coffins, and couldn’t bring myself to read a eulogy.
I didn’t know how I could go on in a world without my three precious daughters.
Next day, I went to the crash site to try and find answers as to what had happened.
Police talked me through it, as they pointed to the tyre marks on the road.
An officer explained that Madison must have been going over the speed limit, and had hit a kerb.
As she’d tried
to correct herself, to avoid an oncoming car, she’d slammed on the brakes.
The car went into a spin and tipped over the edge of a hill, rolling several times.
A month later, the postmortem found Jeslyn was the only one without her seat belt on, so she’d been ejected
as the car rolled.
She’d died instantly from a broken neck.
Madison and Kaitlyn were alive after the accident, but struggling to breathe, and Kaitlyn had screamed for help.
But Madison died from asphyxiation and Kaitlyn’s cause of death was brain damage.
It had taken 25 minutes for paramedics to arrive, and I wondered if the girls would have survived if help had arrived quicker.
I later found out that Jeslyn had her phone on her, but the battery had died while she
was at her dad’s, which is why the app had shown there as
her location.
When Christmas Day arrived, my partner took me on a break away.
But I spent every day crying in the hotel room.
It was a couple of months before I could bring myself to take down the decorations Jeslyn had put up.
Now, I still can’t believe they were all in the car together on that fateful day.
I look at old photographs, and wish with every fibre of my being that I could turn back time.
Life will never be the same.
But with support from friends and family, I’m slowly getting through the haze of grief.
I comfort myself with knowing that wherever my girls are, they’re together.