I was pleasantly surprised to hear Brooke wanted to leave the house yesterday. She said its been a while and could we go to Friendly's? It is a place of good memories with her dad.
After Keith's death we were not allowed to drive past or go there, my gosh, it had to be for 6 months.
Brooke is happy and wants to share and talk. She shares with me her and her dad's routine at Friendly's of how they would order their food, put lots of dollars into the machine with the claw that grabs stuffed animals (her dad truly was the champ at that game), then eat ice cream after their meal.
Brooke and I get our booth when she starts asking questions.
What were the last last words I said to him? I remember like it was yesterday.
I shared with her my last conversation with him was on December 5, 2010. That I called him and my very first words to him were, "I am very worried about your extreme weight loss. I'm not sure if you are terminally ill or on drugs, but something is really wrong and I am concerned about Brooke with you ..." I let her know that I told him he could see her whenever he wanted, but no more overnight visits until he & Debbie stopped the drama and I laid down the ground rules. Keith agreed, thought it was best, and thanked me.
It was a good conversation, between friends that share a daughter. I did a lot of praying before the conversation took place and it went better than I could have imagined.
A couple of days later was the last time Brooke saw him alive.
True to his word, he picked her up for a few hours, took her to the animal shelter where they held and played with kittens & dogs, took her for ice cream, and brought her home.
For the first time in many months she had a wonderful time with her daddy and I was relieved to see her come home happy. I shared with Brooke yesterday that I called him and left a voicemail after that visit thanking him for showing you such a nice afternoon, that you had a wonderful time with him.
Brooke says to me, "Please don't start crying." Two years later I still can't talk about this without remembering every vivid detail.
She asked what was found in his body. She wanted to know about the drugs. I was honest and told her what the coroner (whom was a friend of mine that liked me from my Doctors Hostpital days) shared with me. He was a wealth of information and I was able to confirm his supplemental uses. I was also able to ask two million questions about everything from the scene to the autopsy report. He called me a few times to "check" on me.
She asked about the autopsy report and I told her I shredded it. Never would I want her or Mariah to find it by accident and read the details. I had dry heaves after reading it and was very disturbed until it was out of my home the next day and through the shreder.
Brooke said someday she wants to request a copy. Someday, as an adult, that will be her decision, but I don't recommend it.
I made a decision to be 100% honest with her December 19, 2010 between the very moment I told her her dad had died and she asked how ... suicide. Then, how did he do it?
We talk when she is ready to talk.
All little girls want their daddy's to be a hero. The first year after his death, he had a hero status in her conversations ... I let her cling to that. We talk only fondly of his good and fun qualities, but she remembers the drama and the dysfunction. I don't say anything and she lets me know in her way and her time she remembers.
She hasn't forgotten anything.
