So much of the beginning was a blur. I have very clear memories of certain things, but most of it is filtered through tears and grief. I was thinking this morning that I should make a record of certain things, while I'm thinking about them. This is both for you and for me. Someday I might want to make a hard copy record of this. Or someday I might want to burn a hard copy of this. Or maybe I'll just let it sit on the internet until it expires of old age. Nonetheless, I want the world to know.
I'll do a little bit now. Until it hurts too much. Then I'll put it away and try again later.
I ordered in Chinese food for the three of us and for Lib's friend to eat on Friday the 13th. It has just been delivered, and I was putting out the food when the call from Joe came. I hadn't even popped my obligatory crab rangoon at that point. I never ate a bite of that meal. Someone later brought me some, but I couldn't eat it. I still can't eat delivery Chinese food.
I remember crying face down on the kitchen floor. I remember crying face down on the bathroom floor. I remember people and phone calls. People trying to get me to eat or drink something. Mostly I just remember crying. I kept thinking, "She was supposed to come home. I have a ticket for her in October. She was supposed to come home for good." Maybe not for good in October, but at the semester. At the end of her freshman year, for certain. I'd already checked into how she could make the transition from block scheduling to traditional scheduling. It wasn't supposed to happen this way. It wasn't supposed to be ashes that I brought to Wisconsin. It was supposed to be a sweet, smart, funny, caring, living, breathing girl.
Saturday was a blur of tears and people. I don't know who was here or when they were here. Someone else had to answer the phone and the door. My closest friends and the Other Mothers/Dads, just walked in the door. I cried on everyone's shoulders. I sat on the couch, freezing, in my layers and under blankets. I told my rabbi friend on Sunday (rabbis are nice on Sunday, since they're not working) about how cold I was. He told me that Katie was with me. There is an old Jewish proverb that when we're cold, that is when the dead are closest to us. Which seems right. I know I haven't broken a sweat since, even in 90+ degree Oklahoma weather where I wore a sweater outside practically all the time and was under a blanket inside with my sweater still on.
We had more food brought than we could handle. My brother was in charge of feeding everyone and keeping the food managed. He labeled everything, putting it in the fridge or freezer and then listing everything that we had. My sister-in-law kept herbal tea with plenty of honey in my hand or a large lidded tumbler full of water. I still didn't eat. I couldn't. I didn't think about eating or drinking or sleeping. I just hurt.
My brother made travel arrangements. Bridget helped pick out photos of Katie for her memorial video. I had to think about songs for the funerals and songs for the video. I Facebook messaged a friend from church, then I talked to the priest.
I talked to Joe about funeral arrangements in Oklahoma and in Milwaukee. We had to talk about cremation. We had to talk about what happened and about what Katie would have wanted. And we cried on the phone together. Joe kept apologizing and saying that he had tried to fix her, but he couldn't. We tried to piece together why our serious, responsible child would have had such an accident. It was so out of character. She would not have hurried because she went out that evening to relax and read and watch the deer.
We flew to Oklahoma via Denver. I couldn't manage the time change, so I was never certain that we had time for anything. Libby insisted that I buy some lotion stuff for Cheryl at Bath and Body Works as a "hostess gift." We bought bagels and didn't eat them. I didn't know how we were getting from the airport to Joe's house, but knew someone would pick us up and would take us. It was Katie's Godfather's legislative intern that picked us up. We went to the Capitol to see the Godfather. He drove us out to the house. My sorority sister Amy came in from Tulsa.
The next day Joe and I had to go to the funeral home to sign the paperwork to allow the cremation. Cheryl went with us for support. I didn't think I could walk in the door of the funeral home. I mean, literally, my legs wouldn't work at first. I could barely stand, let alone walk. Paperwork. Paperwork. Decisions over how to contain the ashes. Then the funeral director asked the question, "Would we like to see her?" I had been ready to not see her until that point in time. At that point, how could I not? It would take about 1.5-2 hours. We went to have our version of lunch, Braum's milkshakes that none of us drank. Joe picked up his suit that he had bought. Then back to the funeral home.
She was lying on a bier, covered with the quilts that she had brought from Wisconsin to Oklahoma. The lap blanket that I had made for her when she was six or seven. The twin blanket that my Granny had made, probably years before my dad married my mom. Joe uncovered her face first, to make sure that she was not looking like she had at the accident site where he had last seen her. I walked over and saw her face, fell on my knees, and cried. Those quilts and her hair absorbed my tears. I kissed her hair and put my head on her chest and my arm over her. She was so cold. We hadn't had her embalmed, so she was cold from the morgue. She was wearing her new favorite dress from a recent photo shoot with Joe and family. Joe was stroking her head, but wound up curled up in the fetal position on the floor crying. I just kept talking to her. Then we said goodbye.
In the afternoon, Amy came to Oklahoma City again. We had to buy Lib a black dress for the funeral. Thanks to directions from Cheryl and Siri, we found a Kohl's. Because I had very little tolerance for anything, I found a Kohl's associate, explained the situation, and asked her to find all of the black dresses in Lib's size and bring them to us. Thankfully, she did. I don't think I could have managed much shopping before losing it in the store. Then off to buy shoes. Then back to the house.
Then was the important question, should Libby see her.
