Sunday, January 22
(Keller)
The funeral is today. It starts in a few minutes. I've been at the church with Audrey the past hour making all the last-minute preparations. Stella's with my father, Dunc, and Shel. They all flew in last night.
The chapel is full as I walk in. It's strange being so intimate with someone, yet looking around there are very few faces I recognize. I take a seat next to Dunc and Stella climbs from his lap to mine. "Hi, Daddy."
"Hi, baby girl. Have you been good for Uncle Dunc this morning?"
She nods. "We walked on the beach. I found two shells." She reaches in the pocket of her skirt and pulls out two sand dollars. "I brought them for Kate. She likes shells, right, Daddy?"
I nod. "She likes shells. That was very nice, Stella." I kiss her on top of her curly head and breathe in the sweetness that is my little girl.
I zone out for most of the service. I can't tell you if it was long or short. I just couldn't focus. My mind races over images and memories, and yet feels completely blank at the same time. It's not until the minister turns the microphone over to Audrey that I snap out of it.
She dabs her eyes with a tissue and sniffs before clearing her throat. "I'm Audrey Hawthorne. Kate lived next door to my son and me for the better part of her life. I've always considered Kate and her sister Grace my daughters. There were so many things I loved about Kate. So many things we're all going to miss about her. We decided that, in lieu of a eulogy, we would write letters to her instead. I'd like to read them now." Audrey takes a breath and unfolds the first letter.
Dear Kate,
When I think of you, I still picture you as a six-year-old playing on the beach with Gus and Grace. The joy that radiated from you was tangible, physical. Everyone around you felt it.
That joy never faded as you grew up. You were absolutely delightful to be around. I am so proud of the woman you became. You were so strong, so intelligent, so talented, so loyal, so charismatic, and so beautiful.
Gus and I were truly blessed to have you in our lives and to call you family.
I'm hugging you now, can you feel it?
I love you,
Audrey
Dearest Katherine,
I'm absolutely certain I fell in love with you (in the most platonic sense, of course) the first time I laid eyes on you. At first, I thought it was just your extraordinary fashion sense, but then you went out of your way to talk to me, to actually talk to me, and I knew, without a doubt, you were the kindest soul I'd ever met. I was at a very low point in my life when you sat down at my table that day at freshmen orientation and literally graced me with your presence. Your friendship opened up a world of possibilities I'd never imagined for myself. And your courage has proven to me time and time again that life isn't easy for anyone. We all have to fight to make the most of the life we're given. I'll never forget you. You are quite simply the loveliest person, inside and out, that I will ever encounter. You are my real-life angel.
All my love,
Clayton
Dear Kate,
I miss our play dates. I miss your tickles and hugs. I miss your songs. I miss you reading to me. Miss Higgins misses you, too.
Love,
Stella
Kate,
As a band, we'll miss your ungodly talent. Your devotion made all of us better musicians and forced us to up our game whenever you were around. You had more talent in your little finger than we all have combined. We wouldn't be where we are now if it weren't for you. Thank you.
As your friends, we'll miss you. Everything about you: your tenacity, your take-no-prisoners attitude, your encouragement, and your kindness. Most of all, we'll miss your sense of humor. Nobody could make us laugh like you did. Especially if it was at Franco's expense.
We miss you,
Jamie, Robbie, and Franco
P.S. We hope they have a Formula One track in heaven and that God puts you behind the wheel your first day, because you are going to kick everyone's ass. Godspeed Kate.
Dear Kate,
You taught me that it's okay to step outside my comfort zone and do things that scare me or make me uncomfortable. It's okay to be silly and to make mistakes. It's okay to laugh at everything or to laugh at nothing at all.
You never knew it, but I've battled demons my entire life and because of you I'm facing them in therapy now. Thank you for walking through my door six months ago, dude. It's one of the best things that ever happened to me. You changed my life.
Love,
Your dance partner
P.S. You are the baddest badass I've ever met.
Katie,
It's hard to put into words what you mean to me. I admire the way you lived your life. It inspired me. It made me fall in love with you. You challenged me like no one else ever has. You showed me what courage and bravery are. Your sincerity, open-mindedness, endless support, and love made me a better person, a better father, a better partner, a better man.
I miss you so much it hurts.
I'll love you forever, babe.
Keller
Bright Side,
I'm not good at this shit and you know it, so I'll keep this short and sweet. I hope you're with Gracie right now sitting on a cloud sharing a Twix bar. I hope the sun shines every day in heaven, that the waves are always huge, and that the sunsets are spectacular. I hope they serve strong, black coffee morning, noon, and night, and veggie tacos on Tuesdays. And I hope they have a violin made just for you and that you play it every single day.
You told me to do epic. I try. You mastered it. You made every day epic. I'll miss that.
I love you,
Gus
I can hear sniffs and sobs in the audience now. Audrey's struggling to keep composure, and just when I think she's hit the breaking point, she takes a few deep breaths. "Kate spent her last weeks in my home. She gave me this," she holds up a sealed envelope, "and asked me to read it at the end of her service." Her hands are trembling so badly, I wonder if she'll be able to open it. Very slowly she tears away the end of the envelope and pulls out a folded piece of paper. Her eyes run over the page, and she covers her mouth with her hand. "I'm sorry. I can't."
I want to get up and read it, to help her, but I know I won't be able to stop the tears that are already flowing, or to swallow past the lump in my throat. The minister is standing at Audrey's side now, a hand on her shoulder, gently urging her to hand the letter over so that he can read it aloud when someone speaks from the back of the church. "Wait." He clears his throat as all eyes turn to watch him walk up the aisle. "I'll read it." It's Gus. He disappeared after Katie died and though he texted Audrey a few times, we haven't seen him for two days. He wasn't here earlier, and I was afraid he was going to skip it altogether. He's wearing a suit, but he looks like hell. Sleep hasn't come for him yet.
He puts his arm around Audrey's shoulders and kisses the side of her head before he takes the paper. He swallows several times and begins to read Katie's words:
I sincerely wish we were all somewhere else today. Doing anything but this, because funerals are a downer, and they suck. But since you've all been nice enough to gather together for me, I'd like to take this opportunity to lay down some ground rules. These rules go into effect this very moment and do not expire until you do.
Number one: Don't cry for me. I had the most amazing life. It was worth celebrating, if I do say so myself; so when you think of me, smile, laugh, be happy. No crying.
Number two: Live every day as if it's your last. I know that's cliché, and you probably think I read it on a bumper sticker (come to think of it, maybe I did), but it's true. Do it.
Number three: Be spontaneous. Life has too many rules and restrictions and schedules. Change your plans to make room for fun. Be late every once in a while (I'm looking at you, Keller) and enjoy the moment for what it is or for what it can become.
Number four: Don't judge each other. We all have our own shit. Keep your eyes on yours and your nose out of everyone else's unless you're invited in. And when you get the invitation, help, don't judge.
Number five: Dance your ass off (I'm looking at you, Shelly and Clayton).
Number six: Do epic (I'm looking at you, Rook). Music makes the world a more beautiful place. Yours is epic. Continue. Every day. We love you for it.
Number seven: Treat friends like family. Gus and Audrey blessed me with this lesson. Pass it on.
Number eight: Let yourself love. With every fiber of your being.
Number nine: Take time to watch the sunset every once in a while. Bonus points if you do it with someone you care about.
Number ten: Don't cry for me.
Remember, I'm in heaven now, and I'm watching you. Apply the rules. I'll know if you don't.
Don't piss me off.
I want to thank each of you for making my life so much better than it would've been if I'd never met you.
Love you all. Peace out.
Bright Side
A smile is playing at Gus's mouth. "That's my girl." It quickly fades to sadness. With a nod, he leaves the microphone. He ushers Audrey back down to her seat in the front row and sits beside her.
The minister finishes up with a prayer, and everyone stands to exit. This is the part I've been dreading more than any other. I kiss Stella's cheek. "Baby girl, you go with Papa and Uncle Dunc. I'll meet you outside."
She nods her tiny head, and her curls bounce. "Where are we going?"
Blinking back tears, I answer, "We're all going to take Katie to the cemetery. That way she'll have a special place where everyone can visit her."
"Like Mommy?"
"Yes, just like Mommy."
Dunc takes Stella from me when he sees I'm about to lose it. "Come on, Stella. Let's go outside and chase the pigeons."
I watch Stella, Dunc, and Shel walk past and wait for my father to follow before I stand. He stops in front of me and rests his hand on my shoulder. "I'm sorry, son. No one should know the loss you've endured in your short life."
I nod.
I close my eyes and try to clear my thoughts, but all I see are those jade eyes smiling at me behind my closed lids. I want to sit here forever and look at them.
But I can't.
Gus, Jamie, Robbie, Franco, and Clayton are all waiting on me.
No one says a word as we surround her casket. It's lighter than I'd imagined it would be, which only makes me think about how frail and thin she was at the end. She probably only weighed seventy-five pounds. It was heartbreaking.
The walk to the hearse is short.
The drive to the cemetery is long.
The rest is a blur. I can feel the panic rising.
The minister's still talking when I hand Stella to my father and duck out from under the tent for some fresh air. I notice yellow tulips and a Twix bar lying on Grace's headstone next to Katie's plot.
When I walk around the back of the tent, Gus is standing there smoking a cigarette. He doesn't look at me but slides the pack out of his pocket and points the open end in my direction. "Want one?"
I've never smoked in my life, but I'm not thinking straight, and I'll try anything if it will ease the anxiety strangling me. I slip one out of the pack and take the lighter he hands me. I have no idea what I'm doing, but I light it and inhale with all the nervous energy that's coursing through me. My lungs burn, and I can't hold back the sudden, insistent cough.
"First time?" Gus asks.
I cough again. "It's that obvious, huh?"
"You should quit," he says blandly.
I hand the lit cigarette back over. "Yeah, you're probably right."
One last drag finishes his off. He drops it to the ground and steps on it with his shoe while he starts in on mine.
"You should quit," I offer.
"I know. Bright Side always told me the same thing. I feel guilty as hell every time I smoke one now, you know. I fucking can't give it up, though. I've tried." He looks at me then. "Did Ma give you your envelope?"
"Yeah." Audrey gave me an envelope from Katie this morning. She said Katie gave her two CDs in two envelopes; one for me and one for Gus. She did this a few weeks ago and asked Audrey to give them to us today.
"You listened to yours?"
"Not yet. You?" I plan on listening to it tonight after we get back to Minneapolis, after I get Stella to bed. I need quiet and privacy because I know whatever it is it's going to tear me wide open.
"Not yet." He sounds nervous.
The crowd is filing out of the tent to their cars.
I gesture to the tent. "Come on, let's finish this."
He stares at the ground, and I swear he's checked out completely when he finally blinks a few times and answers, "I can't, dude. I said goodbye two days ago. I gotta get outta here. I can't take this anymore."
"Okay. We'll see you back at the house then. We have to pick up our bags before we head to the airport."
"I won't be there." It's final.
"Where're you going?"
"Don't know. I gotta get away for a while." He's got a distant look in his eyes.
I need to let him figure this out on his own. We all need to find our way. I offer my hand, and he shakes it. "Stay in touch, man. I'm here if you need me."
He claps me on the shoulder. "Thanks, dude. You too."
I watch him walk all the way across the cemetery until he disappears in the distance. I have no idea where he's going, especially on foot. His truck's still at the church, and that's miles away.
Katie's death keeps hitting me, like waves crashing against the shoreline. It's at this moment that another wave hits. She's gone. I'll never see her again. I'll never hear her voice again. I'll never touch her again. This realization drops me to my knees, and I begin to sob. I'm sobbing because I want her back. I'm sobbing because I fucking hate cancer. I'm sobbing because life isn't fair.
There's a hand gently pressed against my back, and I sense more than see someone squat down next to me. "Son?"
My father. I want to stop crying, but I can't. I look at him, gasping for air. "I...want...her...back," I say, blubbering. When he doesn't say anything I continue. "Why Katie?"
I expect a logical explanation, a clinical explanation, but instead, he takes my hands in his and pulls us both to our feet. Then he hugs me.
He hugs me.
And he lets me cry.
When the tears cease, he releases me and hands me the handkerchief from his pocket. I dry my face and blow my nose. And without saying a word, he walks me to his rental car and helps me into the backseat where Stella and Dunc are waiting.
Just when you think you know someone, they change. Or you change. Or maybe you both change. And that changes everything.