So it's been two weeks. Two weeks since she woke me up. Two weeks since we decided to go to IHOP for breakfast where she did a great job with her food. Two weeks since we went to Wal-mart together to go shopping, which was a rare event. Two weeks since she told me a million times how much she loved me. Two weeks since I told her how much I love her. Two weeks since she gave me a hug, told me that she loved me and that she would be a big girl.
It's been two weeks since I saw Chris' face and the fear and pure terror as he was told she was found in the pool. Two weeks since we raced across town to get to the hospital. Two weeks since the doctor took us into the ER and watched as the trama doctors worked their asses off to get her lifeless body heated up and her heart going. We watched as they pushed drugs and put in central lines, but she was gone already. I think a part of me knew it the whole time we watched but I just had to keep my hopes up that one of the times they shocked her heart, it would start. But it never did. We help each other. We cried and sobbed. We went numb. We told each other how much we love each other. And then we walked over to her body and touched her forehead and told her how much we loved her. And how she was our beautiful girl.
After what seemed like days, we got to see her again- touch her beautiful face again, kiss her check, tell her how much I lover her, how much she meant to me and how I would never forget her.
I thought that might be the worst part. But I was so naive. I am now more aware of the rollercoaster that will be our lives for awhile. That night at the hospital was horrific. But going home was worse. Laying down to get some sleep was even worse. Chris was able to get some rest, but my brain just wouldn't let me stop....stop the "why" game. Why did we not teach her to hold her breath under water? Why did we not get her into swim school last summer like I had kept talking about? Why did we not take her to the wedding that night? Why didn't we have someone watch her at our house like we normally did? Then there are all of the "whys" that I am not ready to hear the answers to...why did no one keep an eye on her at the pool? Why were her swimmers removed? why did no one notice she was in the pool? But then as always, my brain switches to the more rationale part and I know with clarity that NONE of these questions have answers that matter. She passed away, it WAS an accident, and NOTHING will bring her back. This is the reality we have, but the questions linger. They are in the back of my mind 24/7 and they come to the surface sometimes, but my rationale part usually comes through and saves me.
Chris and I are doing what we can. We cry, well it's more of me crying and he doing his best to stay strong and just hold me. There are moments where I can laugh and smile and think so proudly of Kathleen, and how much she gave to me and how much I learned from her. My life is only better becuase of her. But then there are moments when I am not sure I can breath. I can't imagine how I can live another day without her here. I wake up in the morning, every morning, waiting for her to walk in and tell me the sun is up. And the feeling that comes over me when I realize that she won't is crushing.
That is the feeling I have most of the time. Pure pain.
If I can keep up with this, I hope to eventually be able to talk about Kathleen. And also our twins. The amazing twins that I can't wait to hold. And cherish. And love forever. And to tell them about their amazing sister. Hopefully...one day, I can do that. Hopefully.
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