Monday, August 29, 2011

one year later

well kids. it’s been a year. a full year now since everything shifted and changed. a year without my dad. a year knowing that i can’t call him, remembering that he won’t be coming to my house warming, knowing that he won’t be there for the kids birthdays. a full circle of holidays and events on our own.

it sucks. still. it will forever. the amount of suck may lessen, but it will still suck.

i drove down to zillah on the 16th. i wanted to see the site. i wanted to talk to people. i wanted to know everyone was still as lost as i am.

guess what: they aren’t. and that’s ok.

it was surreal driving up to the site. it looks like there was never a home there. it doesn’t look like a place where there were christmases or birthdays. it doesn’t look like there were ever bbq’s or football parties or anything. i knew the land had been cleared. i knew it had been bulldozed over. i didn’t know exactly what that would look like. i guess i expected something to still be there. the circle driveway with the railroad ties. the lawn. the trees. SOMETHING. i mean SOMEONE is going to buy the land and build there again eventually, right? so shouldn’t SOME of it have stayed? there was nothing. no driveway. no grass. no mark of where anything ever was. nature had reclaimed the land and there were tumble weeds, grasshoppers and dirt. i saw one small piece of caution tape stuck in a bush to show any evidence of the living nightmare that happened. one small piece of tape, that’s all.



a reporter met me at the sight to ask what i thought of it being a year later and still not having a cause declared by any of the investigating agencies. you want to know what i think? i don’t give a rats ass HOW it happened. i don’t care if it was a dishwasher or a lightbulb or anything else. they cleared the scene of criminal activity and that’s all that mattered to me. no one intentionally caused harm to my family. that’s all i need to know. beyond that, knowing a cause won’t do anything. it won’t make it unhappen. it won’t bring dad and anne and chris back. it won’t make what happened any better or worse. IT HAPPENED. what matters to me now is learning to live with not having a dad. do i want to spend my life mad at a dishwasher? no. do i want to go after some big name brand or something for financial compensation? what would that get me? would i want a dollar amount put on my dad’s life? we’ve already been taken care of. we have our house and our car and our bills paid. would having a neat little label to put on the file fix anything? no way in hell.

i went from the site down to the local bar that my dad used to be a regular at. there was a memorial of sorts set up for everyone to get together again and share the marker. i went in wanting to be with people who still missed him as much as i do. i wanted to talk to people and hear stories and remember. i wanted to pick up where i missed out a year ago when i was told not to go sit with all the people and have a beer and talk about it. it hurt to miss that and i wanted to not have that happen again.

it did happen again. i did miss out again. and it HURT. it was a regular tuesday night. several people showed up but they all talked about life as it is NOW. they talked about their work week, their summers, their jobs. it was trivia night at the bar and there was music and people talking and living life like it wasn’t a year ago that the world stopped. i left the bar that night SO HURT. i was so frustrated that no one was as sad as i was. i was so mad that no one wanted to sit around and tell stories. i was mad that they were living their lives like time has moved on. i was mad and crying for half of the car drive home before it really hit me: life has moved on. it’s been a year since i’ve been there. it’s been a year since i talked to anyone. it’s been a year since i visited the site. it hasn’t been a year for them. they haven’t been on pause waiting for an anniversary. they’ve all lived it EVERY DAY. they’ve seen each other every day and had their opportunities to tell stories and remember and grieve. theyve gone back to work and lived near the site and had new coworkers come in and start to fill the gap that was left behind. i can’t expect the rest of the world to go on pause and wait for me to finally get around to dealing with things. i can’t expect everyone else to wait for me to say it’s ok for them to heal. it’s unrealistic and honestly just plain stupid.

that was a very powerful moment for me. it was powerful to suddenly realize people do heal and move on but STILL REMEMBER. they were all there. they all came to mark the moment. they haven’t forgotten but they have moved on and life can continue without being paralyzed or frozen in time. i’m learning that. slowly, but i’m learning that.

one of the most powerful moments of the whole day was also one of the most random moments of the day. as i was leaving the property i stopped to check their mail. morbid curiosity i guess. no reason. it’s been a year. i didn’t expect there to be any mail or anything. i was honestly shocked that the mailbox was still there with their names on it. so i opened it. just to see.


people remember. people miss them.