Wednesday, April 29, 2009

Mary and the Willow Tree

I see Mary’s willow tree every time I walk on the deck. I planned it that way but I didn’t realize I would be haunted by its sight. Rather like her pictures on the boards in the living room that jump out at me saying “look at me – this is all I am now – a memory”. They are not everywhere, just bunched together in one spot, so as not to be devoid of her image but not over whelming, still they haunt me.


Now I worry that the tree might not make it. No reason why it shouldn’t, just worry. I might have to go through planting another one. That would not work. This one was hard enough. Tony and I started digging the hole. The first few inches was dark rich soil from years of burning branches and leaves. Then we hit the rocks. These must have been from fill dirt from when the county was putting in the sewer line. Rock after rock impeded our way. So I got a spike and a little sledge hammer and slammed away at them. Beating on the end of the spike as I held it with every ounce of energy I had. I was just as surprised as the rest that I didn’t smash a finger or a fist as I let the hammer fly down. Unfortunately it did not do much good. Only caused my arms and shoulders to tingle and ache from the reverberations of energy. Kind of prophetic, don’t you think?


Julie, Kerry, the rest of the DeMarco’s, and Bill and Michele showed up slowly and each took a turn at digging the every expanding hole. It was about two feet wide and two feet deep when we stopped. We had left the water hose turned on from when we burned the limbs so I was squirting the dogs and watching them play. I turned and filled the hole up with water and Tony put the tree in the hole. As we shoveled the top soil from the old burn pile and the ashes from the new burn pile around the tree roots I guess Tony and I were thinking the same thing. We should bring Mary down and let her be part of this, after all she is the one we are honoring. So we slowly turned and walked back up the hill to the house.


I put Mary on the back of Kerry’s dresser when we brought her home that Friday afternoon. I had not touched her, barely looked at her, since then. There was a can I found in her room decorated with dancing people all around the sides that I wanted to put her in. I was never able to do that.


Ashes are heavy. That surprised me.


We brought her down awhile later. Sat down beside the tree amid the dirt and water opened the lid and cried. As I touched Mary, again I was surprised and pulled my hand away. The ashes were gritty and lumpy not fluffy and light like ashes I’m used to. I spread her around the bottom of the tree as I sat with arms of others around me holding me tight. Each person touched Mary. Some of us lay on the ground face down crying, some of us standing head down tears falling. Each of us grieving in our own way, helping each other as we could, if we could was all we could do. No words spoken just the sounds of pain, sorrow, anguish, uselessness, frustration, helplessness – you name it, we all felt it. This was not a place for happy memories, this was for finality, realizations that Mary is truly gone from this earth. I could add something about how Mary and the willow tree are alike but I can’t. She’s gone and it’s a tree. Maybe later, not now.


We took more dirt and spread it around the tree soaking it with water. We took Mary back up to the house. A friend of Tony’s sister wrote a song for Mary and we played it for the world to hear while Tony and I sat on the deck. They said from below it sounded so clear and loud, as if it was coming from the sky.


Shade was upon us and we all sat in our chairs around the tree talking and remembering. Some tears, lots of smiles, some laughter, many memories. It was a beautiful afternoon, no clouds, not too hot. Mary’s doggies ran around the fields behind the houses, jumping in and out of the river, shaking water on everyone. We drank beer, soda, and water just hanging out as we would have in any other situation. Smoked some 10 year old Cuban cigars just to mark the moment. Some of us had special stones and things we put around the tree. We stayed until it was almost too dark to see our way back.


We do not have a place in a cemetery for Mary. She will be in our back yard, at Chilkat Lake , other places special to her and Tony, and any where in the world she might like to have visited. Mary will be everywhere for all eternity but most importantly, in our hearts. I will, one day, find the strength to carry on her name and memory for the world to see. I have promised her that.

Yes, I still fight the hate and loneliness and I will for a long time. I will write that out day by day if it’s possible.


Tomorrow will be a hard day. I will put on my other face and we will talk to the DA about the criminal case and pick up Mary’s things from her work. One breath at a time.

Tuesday, April 28, 2009

Journey not chosen

Journey not chosen


I did not choose the path I walk for it is dark in this moment

The clouds gathering above won’t dispel

I cannot see the next step for tears are in my way

Nothing good is beyond where I dwell


Can I change the path I’m on, I don’t know.

I know I cannot turn around, that’s where I want to go

But can I lean left or right and find the sun someday

Right now I only tip toe through this awful show


People ask ‘what can I do’ and I smile

The ‘do’ is bring her back but cannot be

The question now is ‘how to go on’ with no tomorrow

How do I get through the hate and sorrow


To be continued………

Monday, April 27, 2009

the willow tree

Today we planted Mary's willow tree and dusted her ashes around the roots. I do not understand my feelings yet so I cannot write tonight....maybe tomorrow.....maybe never

Sunday, April 26, 2009

unchosen path

Today I did normal things. Washed dishes, washed clothes, picked up around the house. Even went to a movie. I was eating popcorn and trying to keep up with the action and suspense. Then as I was urging the character to hurry up and move around the slower traffic keeping her from her intended destination, wham.........she was hit by an 18 wheeler and her car flew high in the air and flipped over and over and over. Yes, I did. I yelled out, covered my eyes, and cried and cried and cried. Julie grabbed me and held my head against her while I kept crying. I was not a pretty site. Neither of us expected this. I should have been holding her too but I couldn't.

Every so often for a few seconds my mind grasps the idea that Mary is truly gone and that split second of emptiness is so vast it takes my breath away and my whole body flinches. As long as I think of her as away for awhile I can get through most hours. Then some memory or picture or song or something will trigger reality and I run back to the dream that keeps me sane. Maybe as time goes by these two states of being will shift.

The house in Hayesville is now the problem at hand. What to do with it. So many possibilities and none of them pleasant. How one action can so totally destroy so many lives is astounding. Soon we will have to pick up Mary's "things" from the house. These pieces of her are the very essence that defined her. And now they are just memorials. Have I told you how much I hate that man? I have not been back to the house yet. Neither has Julie. Tony went once and became so voilently sick he had to leave without taking anything. Carol and Donnie water her garden and air out the house. The neighbor cuts the grass and picks up the mail. Time moves on.

Wednesday we have a meeting with the DA and the trooper who is on her case. I will change into my "down to business" shell and try not to let the real me out if possible. We will also go to Franklin so Kerry, Julie, and Danny can meet our lawyers. And probably go to Drake to pick up her stuff from her desk. They haven't touched her desk. They haven't replaced her. Everything is just as if she's out to lunch.

Last night we went out to dinner. There were 5 of us because Amanda came. We were celebrating Kerry's birthday and Danny's 2nd birthday. It has been 12 years yesterday with his heart. I used to say his new heart but it's fast approaching the mid point of his life with this heart. I believe I have some understanding now of what his donor's family went through. Knowing Danny lived and that boy didn't was a turning point in my life. There were no answers then and are still no answers. We sat and talked, ate, laughed, remembered funny, happy times with Mary. But the food was bland for me. I brought the leftovers home but still haven't finished eating it.

Why did someone else get to choose what my life will be like from now on?
Tomorrow afternoon at 3pm we will plant a weeping willow tree down by the creek for Mary.

Saturday, April 25, 2009

Some Day.....

Some Day.....


I hope you never see the light of day through my eyes.

I hope you never feel the emptiness that’s in my soul.

The ever expanding heartache of loneliness filling my life

Is something no one should have to pay a toll.


I try to turn my thoughts to more happy times.

I try to remember that normal day place.

But the chasm of knowing there will be no tomorrows

Is something no one should have to face.


Why can’t I turn the world around?

Turn back the hands of time?

Have him make the better choice,

Stop the flow and reverse his crime.


I am unable.


Time goes on, babies born and wedding dates.

Time goes on, sunsets happen, rainbows appear.

Lives continue but not my own, I shut down yet still grow older

Is something no one should have to fear.


Why can’t I turn the world around?

Turn back the hands of time?

To see the smile upon your face

And feel the touch of your embrace.


I am unable.


Now you live inside my soul.

Patching up the empty hole.

Some day I may be whole again.

Then, we will carry on.

Wednesday, April 22, 2009

I DON'T WANT TO

It is night time and once again my demons attack. My nephew whom we haven’t heard from in 8-10 years is on the phone with Julie. He didn’t know. They had left a message on his facebook page to call us. All I could hear was Mary is dead. Mary is dead. It just keeps ringing in my ears. I watch TV with Julie. My once favorite shows. Now the fake shootings and stabbings and such aren’t fake anymore. Sometimes I change the channel, sometimes it doesn’t bother me. Nothing is the same. Each day the actions I used to do that were so part of my life, so normal, so enjoyable, aren’t anymore. I can’t find replacements. Some people have said ‘I know what you’re going through. So and so happened to my sister, my friend, whatever’. I just shake my head and stare at the wall. It doesn’t do any good to scream at them or calmly disagree. They think they are helping.


Today I called to keep her utilities going and pay bills that I can. Again I had to say the words, my daughter who was killed by a drunk driver. I always say how so people will understand the senselessness, the horror.

I’ve also had people them me about others whose children suffered a worse fate. And yes, it could have been worse, be worse, I’m sure. But is that supposed to comfort me? I think not. I’m just not sure how that comforts them. In most every situation there is a worse and lesser occurrence. But that’s life. The result is the same. Mary is not here sitting beside me, laughing with me, sewing with me, cooking with me, talking about Tony, getting ready for a hiking trip, a picnic on the mountain top at sunset, creating her wedding invitations. Many people received her Save the Date announcements after the accident. How horrible for them. I wear her wedding/engagement ring trying to remember how it looked on her little hand. Her small little piano fingers.

Why can’t I only remember the happy times. Why can’t I focus on her beautiful spirit and smiling face. I can only see that she is not here, anymore, ever. Will I see her again, I don’t know. I hope so. I want to see her NOW.


I went to work yesterday and today for a few hours. I couldn’t wait to get home today so we could burn the wood pile and clear the place where we will plant her willow tree. Not sure how much I can concentrate on work. But I’m trying.


It’s not so much that I can’t feel, sleep, smile, laugh, I DON'T WANT TO.

Sunday, April 19, 2009

Read at your own risk

Tomorrow will be three weeks from the last time I saw Mary. The last thing we said to each other was "love you bye, see you next weekend". And off she went in Danny's truck with Taco in her lap. She left her car keys here.

I don't write much anymore. It doesn't help, just depresses people.

For awhile we had her pictures turned around because it hurt to see her face smiling back at us. Now they are again looking at us reminding us of what will never be again. I can't write many of these emails anymore because all I do is cry while writing them. Everything I do is on auto pilot. I eat a little, don't sleep much (I keep seeing the crash over and over in my imagination - haven't seen the pictures), my chest hurts all the time. I take her bracelets and memory page everywhere I go. Nights are worse than days. I have talked to a few people who have lost children and two under the same circumstances. It doesn't help much. Maybe it will later. I know there are worse circumstances to loose someone but that doesn't help much either. And there are those who say I need to think about something else and get back to normal stuff. Nothing is normal anymore. And I really don't care.

Asking why is useless. There is no answer, never will be, ever. God doesn't help or hurt. He didn't cause it but he didn't stop it either. Nothing I can do, will ever do, or hope to do will ever bring her back. So each day is rather meaningless.

Every time the doorbell rings, day or night, I jump 10 feet, my heart stops. Each of us tells each other whenever we leave and return so we know we are ok. I can't imagine what Tony's going through. I haven't lost my soul mate. I can't imagine what anyone else is going through. Mary was so many things to so many people. I don't want her to be forgotten ever.

I never imagined love could hurt so much. But I will continue to breathe somehow. We are all pretty much like a bunch of sticks leaning on each other hoping one of us doesn't break or we'll all fall down. So far we just lean and hold each other.

Thursday, April 9, 2009

Nothingness

I don't know what I want really. It just felt good to type it. It's getting harder and harder. Kerry went to work for a half day yesterday and today for awhile. I need to hire an attorney today to attend to her estate and start a claim for wrongful death. I think I found someone. My stomach hurts whether or not I eat. My chest hurts all the time. Some times I'm ok, most times not. This is not like I had ever imagined I would handle the death of my child. And I did imagine it in time past. I thought I'd knew what I'd do. And it was not pretty. But it's not. I wish I could feel the 'prayers' everyone is saying for us but I can't. I don't blame god in any way for this. That man made a choice and it was a bad choice. If he hadn't of hit Mary it would have been the people behind her so in some weird way she probably saved their lives. But it doesn't make me feel better. I can't look at her adult pictures anymore. Just the younger ones.

Wednesday, April 8, 2009

I hate him

Today was really, really, really hard. I spent it 'taking care of business' and talking to lawyers and DA's, etc. Her wedding dress is here for me to pick up.
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