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It's been a hell of a long time since I posted. As in seven months long time. I don't think I've even looked at this thing since then. It wasn't because there wasn't anything to talk about - there was, trust me. I just couldn't put it down on paper, in any that would make it make sense to me.
But I'm going to try now. Not because I think anyone will be reading this, but because I need to write it down. So here goes.
Not long after my last entry - it would have been only a few days - my mother called me during my work break. She sounded very quiet, and although I'm not usually very perceptive when it comes to emotional nuance, something just twanged my radar. I asked if everything was okay, and she said yes, everything was fine, she was just tired. So I dismissed it and went about my day. After work I stopped off to get some groceries and got a wierd call from my sister, asking where I was. I told her I was at the shop, and she told me to wait for her when I got home, because she had to talk to me about something.
Me, thinking it was to do with the house being a pig-sty, said 'okay' and didn't really worry about it. I went home, put the groceries away, and watched some TV until my sister and her boyfriend got home. She reminded me that there was something we had to talk about and I, determined to get the 'I love you but you're a pig' bit out of the way, said:
"Yes, I know the house is a mess, and you're absolutely right. From now on I'll -"
She just looked at me and said:
"It's not about the house."
That was when I knew. It's kind of hard to mistake that look on someone's face. I don't quite remember what we said next, just that she told me up front that mom and dad and Andrew were fine, and that it wasn't about the family. One of my high school friends had died and that there was talk that it may not have been an accident, that she may have been killed. I remember that moment very clearly. I just sort of stood there and thought 'don't freak out, don't freak out, it's not like you talked to her much since high school. You didn't even go to her birthday party last year'. Would you believe I was trying to calculate how much grief would be appropriate in this situation? Then I asked:
"Was it quick? She didn't suffer?" But the words didn't come out right. And my sister, being much more perceptive to emotional nuances than I - or else just not an idiot - hugged me, which was about the point where I just broke down. I can't imagine how difficult it must have been for her to tell me that news, and if it ever happens to her, I hope I can do it half as well as she did. It turns out Mom had known that morning and that was why she'd called me. She worked at the same company as my friend, and had gotten an email telling the news. She hadn't told me because she'd known I was at work.
The police didn't release the details of exactly what happened to my friend, and to tell the truth, I don't want to know. They caught the sick bastard who did it, he's going to prison, and that's all I need to know. If I'm going to remember Kat, I want it to be as the new girl in grade nine who was put next to the class geek so she could have someone explain the lessons to her. She was friendly and talkative all the way through the lesson, and me, being a little overly cynical from three years of a truly shitty primary school, thought 'oh I know how this is going. She'll talk to me for her first lesson, but as soon as she finds some cool friends, she'll never talk to me outside of class again'. Not that I was angry, just resigned, and happy to accept her friendliness while it lasted. And she did go on to find cool friends, just as I'd predicted, but the real shocker was that she was just as happy to talk to me as them. That was Kat. A little bit quirky, always grinning at something or other, and happy to talk to anyone, regardless of coolness factor. We'd drifted apart over the years, and although I regret it, I think it was in a way inevitable. We lived in different towns and only saw each other twice a year, if that. I think the real shock, once the grief had worn out, was in the way she died. Even now, half a year later, it can still make me angry, and it can still make me confused as to why something so terrible happened to her. She wasn't this fantastic person who did World Vision, or fed orphans or whatever. She had her share of faults, just like anyone else, and she didn't deserve such a shitty end. I don't understand why that guy did what he did. I don't suppose I ever will, and that's probably a good thing. If someone does something inhuman, then you should stop trying to understand it, because being human, you never will.
It's taken me the better part of a year to get to the point where I was ready to write about it, and I'm okay now. I've finished grieving. For a few months there, I wasn't okay. I thought I was, but in hindsight, I definitely wasn't. After Kat, things at work just got worse and worse, until finally I thought 'screw this' and got a new job. I still think of her, but nowadays it's mostly the good times. Her death isn't the first thing I think of when I think about her, and while I occasionally feel a little guilty about it, I know that's how she'd prefer it. So I'm going to remember her big goofy smile and the way she'd roll her socks. I'm going to remember the sleepovers where we'd watch movies and eat candy so we were sick the next morning, and the birthday party at Bojangles when her boyfriend proposed. She did rowing, she wore a cross even though she wasn't religious, her favorite colour was blue, and she loved cats. And I am most definitely going to remember the play in high school where she sprained her ankle the afternoon of the first night, and hobbled onstage anyway to help me deliver my cunningly-disguised-bike-helmet-as-a-baby. She wouldn't want to have been defined by her death, and for me, she won't be. For me, she was a wonderful friend, and a big part of my teenage years, and when I think of her, I'm going to smile. Maybe sometimes I'll cry too, and there's nothing wrong with that, but mostly I'm going to smile, because that was I did around her. |
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