Day 23 of Pediatric Cancer Awareness Month
Last night I finally went through some of Katherine’s stuff. I just couldn’t take it anymore. Staring at that heap. So crudely tossed together in a crying fit of rage. 7 years of a beautiful human beings life, now nothing but possessions, memories, bags, no organization, and chaos. Similar to my mind. She was so much more than that pile of stuff. She would definitely NOT approve of the mess. Perpetually her mother’s daughter… I drove home, pumping myself up. Talking to myself in my head. I can do this. I can get started. If it’s too hard, I’ll just stop. I just had to at least start it on my own, so that if it’s too bad for me emotionally, than I wouldn’t be there falling apart, surrounded by others, making them uncomfortable. I felt ok, I knew it needed to be done, and I wasn’t getting rid of anything, just boxing it up, so that helped me convince myself that I could do this. I sat in the car for a while, taking my time to walk up to the door, and walked in to my home.
When I started, I asked Alissa for help. She did, begrudgingly. Not because she didn’t want to help. Because she too felt depressed about it. David came home, looked at me, stone faced. He knew… I was doing this, and there was no changing my mind. He went to get changed, and joined us. We worked as a team, quick, and almost in a hurried manner. Rushing to pack boxes, as fast as possible. So fast as not to touch anything too long, dwell on, or think too deeply into anything that would conjure up an emotion we could not control. We packed her precious items. Her artwork, books, horses, gloves, dolls, tiaras, socks… so many beautiful colored socks. Toys, toys and more toys. Toys she put aside to play with “when she felt better”. Toys she saved for her cousins. Half completed projects, from the “to be finished when she felt better” pile. Half drawn artwork, to be given to people she loved at some point. Trinkets she picked up along the way to share with her kids later in life, rocks, sand, feathers… Boots. Soft pink boots, which she wore every day. I put that in the box, and didn’t look. I just felt my way around the box, and stuffed them in, head turned. So many things. So much of her. Now boxed up, and bagged up. Waiting for me to have the guts to make decisions. Horrible, awful, decisions…
I wiped my face, my neck, my chest, the floor when I was done, it was soaking with tears… I wiped up my soul from that floor as well. My heart… my sanity. Wrapped up the towel, and I put that in a box too. For later…