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Monday May 12,2008

10 Years In The Making

by Katie

My name is Katie, and I am a motherless daughter. I am 23 now, when I lost her I was just 14. I have a brother who is now 25, and brother who is 20, and our baby sister who is 10. Kourtney was only 18 months old when our mom died, she has no memories of her other than what we pass on to her.

It has been almost 10 years now, and I find myself in total disbelief that she has been gone this long. She died very suddenly, and to this day we still don't know how she died. We all have our own speculations, but nothing on paper, and no one in jail.

I remember the day that my father told us that she was gone. I had just recently moved in with him, and my younger brother was there for the weekend. I know that my parents had divorced when I was little, but I had never seen my dad cry as hard as he did that night. It changed all of us, forever. I was a teenager, who wanted to make my own choices away from her, and in a blink of an eye, she was gone.

It was so hard to breathe after that, wishing she was there to tell me what to do. I still wish sometimes she would tell me what to do, when I don't know for myself what I should do. Maybe that just goes along with that whole thing of you don't know what you have till it's gone.

My brothers and I all took that following week off from school, and then resumed our lives. As if that were possible, I couldn't handle it at all. I noticed that everyone acted like it was going to be okay, or nothing ever happened. I couldn't go on at all. I spent a lot of time hiding at my school in old corridors, crying. I went to an inner city school, and you had to be tough, so I hid all of the pain. The teachers looked at me like I was a helpless child, yet offered me no help, just sorrow. I don't think that they knew what to say or do, I don't blame them. The grief counselor followed me around all that week, and then I eventually ended up in his office. I can remember being so angry. Angry at him for trying to help, he didn't know me, or how I felt. I was angry at God, for taking her away from us, I was angry at myself for not loving her better. I was angry at everything, and everyone. My Dad, and step-mom, put me and my younger brother into a place called Bridges, for children who have lost a parent, brother,sister, etc. I don't remember much of it, I think that I was still in such shock. I didn't want to accept any help anyway.