It has been four months since Keith’s death.
Today my dad and I met Debbie over at the condo, loaded up all of Brooke’s things in her bedroom at her daddy’s and brought them home.
Stress is funny. About an hour before I left to head over there, I began getting very hot. Then chest pain set in. Driving over I found I kept holding my breath.
Breathe.
As soon as I stepped inside I knew I wasn’t capable of remaining unemotional. I couldn’t breathe as I walked through Debbie & Keith’s condo. Keith’s worldly possessions everywhere.
Debbie took me into his walk-in closet lined with his clothes and told me to take anything I wanted. I could smell Keith. My olfactory sense kicking in and flooding my mind with memories.
So many clothes. Specific clothing with distinct memories of when we were together and when I was pregnant. I couldn’t handle it.
Deb & I just stood there hugging each other and crying.
So much pain and so many unanswered questions.
A suicide. A pending investigation of potential foul play.
Deb was wonderful. “Take anything you want” she said and she genuinely meant it. The thing is, I don’t know what to take? I don’t know what items are precious memories to Brooke. While she doesn’t want anything now, she is still young. One day, she may wish I would have kept more of her daddy’s things.
Brooke is still in her room. Alone.
She is going through her memories from her bedroom at her daddy’s. She came out and cautiously asked how it was over there.
Sometimes the heart breaks and you simply cannot help it.
While I wanted to say it was fine, fresh tears reminded her that I loved her daddy very much. My heart breaks for Brooke. My heart breaks for Keith. My heart breaks for the many years of memories that shouldn’t have ended so tragically.
Today, Brooke is again facing her daddy’s death through her own memories of her things from her bedroom at her daddy’s.
