Wednesday, August 24, 2011

It's Wednesday. I checked.

We really lose track of the days right now. It feels like so much time has passed, yet we know the coming days and years will be long and sad.
Today is Wednesday, almost 5 full days that we lost Darren. The hole is large, unimaginably large.
On Monday, my dad went to the Mission RCMP to pick up Darren's personal effects. His wallet, watch, phone, Ipod and incredibly his sunglasses that were not damaged. His Ipod froze on the last song he was listening to with 18 seconds of the song left: So long Self, by Mercy Me. One of his favorite bands. Darren would only listen to Christian Music on his Harley. He always drove at the back of the pack, claiming it was the safest, but his alternate motive was so he could worship God and sing loud. He told his wife that when he rode his Harley he could feel God with him, that he was the closest to God at those times, worshiping and riding thru God's glorious nature.
On Tuesday Darren's best friend Dave, who was riding with him the day he died. Took 2 of the kids and they went to pick up more of Darren's things where his bike was being held. Dave also took the kids to the crash site to explain what happened. Both of them said it was abundantly clear that the people who caused the accident really just couldn't see Darren because of how the road slops and rises. The kids knew without a shadow of a doubt that it was an accident that the driver of the car had no intention killing their Dad.
They were able to pick up Darren's vest, head bandana, jacket, gloves, helmet, saddle bags and shoes. It was another very sad moment when those items were brought into the house. They also removed a few items from the bike for memory purposes. And then they showed us the pictures of the bike and car at the towing yard and the damage. We also went over the order of service for the funeral. Not to mention the amount of phone calls and items my dad is trying to get to figure out insurance and other items involved when someone dies.
The flow of people is slowing down. Other people have lives to get to. They are not mourning like we are. Today we are at home for the morning and will go back to be with family this afternoon. We have to do a few 'normal' things like laundry and mowing the lawn. But to be honest, it feels wrong. It feels wrong to be normal.
Personally I am completely emotionally drained. I feel like I have no tears left. I know I do and I know they will come. They will pour down at the service, I already know this. I feel them threatening with I'm discussing 'normal' things people who have no clue what we are going thru right now. I just want to grab them and yell "Don't you know! My brother died! My sister is a widow! My nieces and nephew have no father! How can you act so normal!" But I just try to hold back the tears, nod a thanks and hurry away.
We are all exhausted. We have many things left to do before the service on Monday. And then we discover a new normal. Without a flow of people, trying to get the kids ready for school, trying to live without the love of my sister's life.

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