I picked up Keith’s death certificate yesterday afternoon; they had his birth date wrong on the certificate. How does that happen? I don’t care if he isn’t alive, it would be like having a birth certificate with the wrong date. It was listed as April 9, 1062 not his true birth date of April 21, 1962.
Brooke’s dad died on Sunday, December 19, 2010.
Let me back up … December 19, 2010, just a few days before this past Christmas, I was standing in my living room looking out the window watching my youngest daughter, Brooke, 11 years old, playing in the snow with her friends. I answered a phone call that was a friend of her dad's who said something bad had happened. Time slowed down and I can remember listening and hearing my own thoughts in my head ... looking at my daughter play on a beautiful winter day while a few thoughts of what it could be that entered my mind. Jail? What did he do now? How did he get into trouble?
Keith is dead. Blind-sided! What? No … I'm not prepared for this, this isn't happening … I asked "what happened" in a numb state of mind? He killed himself. This call must be a bad joke, because Keith is happy-go-lucky, life of the party, too selfish to do some thing like this! I'm watching Brooke playing out the window and my heart isn't prepared for this, for the future and for what the next moments will bring. I ask again, "how?" He hung himself. Nausea and a wave of pain overwhelmed me. Thank God I was in my home alone for that 10 minutes, before Brooke, to handle my own emotions.
I met Keith on May 16, 1997, two days after my divorce. As bad as it sounds, I fell wildly in love and felt "alive" for the first time in my life at 27 years old. Our relationship spanned 8 years and we have Brooke.
After about 10 minutes after the phone call … I'm guessing it is about 10 minutes, really I have no idea what timeframe had passed … Brooke comes in the house. She knows something is desperately wrong and I am trying to get her out of her snowsuit and boots. There must be a difference between regular healthy tears, tears that a little girl knows something bad has happened to where panic sets in.
I had to say the unthinkable to my daughter, 11 years old, your dad has died. The sound of pain my daughter expelled and the moments that followed isn't what we are prepared for in life. They are sounds you can't describe, the sounds of being overcome by pain and pure grief in its most raw moment.
Christmas came and went in a fog of pain.
Keith’s birthdate on his death certificate will be fixed.
In loving memory, April 21, 1962 - December 19, 2010.
In loving memory, April 21, 1962 - December 19, 2010.
