So much has happened since March.
Rick's body was recovered on Tuesday, June 26th, 2007. Seven months and one day after the accident.
My brother committed suicide in May.
My daughter was married on June 16th, in a back yard ceremony. Her brother gave her away, and when asked who gave her in marriage, he replied "my mother, my father and I." Then he lit a candle for Rick.
All my employees quit on June 18th. They had all been hired by the competitor who asked me to merge with him 2 weeks after Rick's accident. I refused him. I guess he managed to get my business without paying for it. They told me their last day would be July 13th, they didn't realize that was Rick's birthday. I was devastated until they told me when their last day would be, then I knew it was time to quit struggling with the business. I'm negotiating a sale for a fraction of what it would have been worth with employees in place. My son is tying up the loose ends until I can get it sold.
Rick's dad died on June 23rd, 3 days before Rick was found. I was making funeral arrangements with my in laws for him, and as I was leaving I asked for a moment to talk about what my options would be if Rick were ever found. I was assured that he could be cremated or buried, that it would be totally up to me. The next day I was at my doctor, getting a refill on my sleeping pill prescription. I asked for a prescription for a sedative, just in case I needed it. While at the doctor's office I got a call on my cell phone. It was a local news reporter. She asked if Clackamas County sheriff's department had called me. I said "no, but they haven't been calling me all along - what's up?" She told me that 2 men had been found in the Willamette River that morning, that one had been identified as a man who had been missing 2 days. The other man was wearing clothing that was consistent with what Rick had been wearing the day of the accident. I told her I'd better call the sheriff's department. When I finally tracked down someone from the sheriff's department who knew what was going on, he told me I needed to call the state medical examiner's office, that they hadn't positively ID'ed Rick. I knew in my heart it was him. I didn't need anyone to tell me. My sister in law called, I asked her to call the examiner's office for me. Then I drove home to tell my daughter. I didn't want a reporter to call her with the news. I called one of my work crew so he could tell Ricky that they may have found his dad, and to send him back home from the jobsite.
So many people have told me this is a blessing, or "oh, good news! they found him!" but this isn't the news I wanted. I wanted someone to call me and tell me it had been a horrible mistake. That this crazy story I'd been told and had repeated a thousand times was somehow just that. A story that couldn't possibly be real. The original loss in November was just a prelude to the final loss in June. This time I'm going through it without the numbness I had back then. This time I know that other things can happen. My brother can put a gun to his head. My father in law can get cancer and die within months. I no longer ask God "what else? what next?" Sometimes it's better not to know.
Rick was buried in a casket lined with a Pendleton blanket. We went to the Pendleton Roundup rodeo every year. He participated in the stage coach race and later in the Happy Canyon Indian Pageant. It seemed appropriate. It also seemed appropriate that when we ordered the casket, the person at the casket company knew Rick from high school. The man knew so many people, he had so many friends that I can't tell you the times I stood waiting for him to wind up a conversation with yet another person he knew that we ran into on the street. He could remember names and faces and tell stories about people that I had long forgotten. He loved people. People loved him.
I'm working on creating a life, where there is not a glimmer of my old life left. I go to my grief counselor. I'm finishing up what work I have left to do at the business. I go to the movies on Fridays with my sister. She babysits me. She'll tell you that isn't true, but it is. If I didn't have her to tell me that things will be ok, I don't know what I'd do. The thing is, I know it's a lie. Things will never be ok again. They just are what they are.
Rick's body was recovered on Tuesday, June 26th, 2007. Seven months and one day after the accident.
My brother committed suicide in May.
My daughter was married on June 16th, in a back yard ceremony. Her brother gave her away, and when asked who gave her in marriage, he replied "my mother, my father and I." Then he lit a candle for Rick.
All my employees quit on June 18th. They had all been hired by the competitor who asked me to merge with him 2 weeks after Rick's accident. I refused him. I guess he managed to get my business without paying for it. They told me their last day would be July 13th, they didn't realize that was Rick's birthday. I was devastated until they told me when their last day would be, then I knew it was time to quit struggling with the business. I'm negotiating a sale for a fraction of what it would have been worth with employees in place. My son is tying up the loose ends until I can get it sold.
Rick's dad died on June 23rd, 3 days before Rick was found. I was making funeral arrangements with my in laws for him, and as I was leaving I asked for a moment to talk about what my options would be if Rick were ever found. I was assured that he could be cremated or buried, that it would be totally up to me. The next day I was at my doctor, getting a refill on my sleeping pill prescription. I asked for a prescription for a sedative, just in case I needed it. While at the doctor's office I got a call on my cell phone. It was a local news reporter. She asked if Clackamas County sheriff's department had called me. I said "no, but they haven't been calling me all along - what's up?" She told me that 2 men had been found in the Willamette River that morning, that one had been identified as a man who had been missing 2 days. The other man was wearing clothing that was consistent with what Rick had been wearing the day of the accident. I told her I'd better call the sheriff's department. When I finally tracked down someone from the sheriff's department who knew what was going on, he told me I needed to call the state medical examiner's office, that they hadn't positively ID'ed Rick. I knew in my heart it was him. I didn't need anyone to tell me. My sister in law called, I asked her to call the examiner's office for me. Then I drove home to tell my daughter. I didn't want a reporter to call her with the news. I called one of my work crew so he could tell Ricky that they may have found his dad, and to send him back home from the jobsite.
So many people have told me this is a blessing, or "oh, good news! they found him!" but this isn't the news I wanted. I wanted someone to call me and tell me it had been a horrible mistake. That this crazy story I'd been told and had repeated a thousand times was somehow just that. A story that couldn't possibly be real. The original loss in November was just a prelude to the final loss in June. This time I'm going through it without the numbness I had back then. This time I know that other things can happen. My brother can put a gun to his head. My father in law can get cancer and die within months. I no longer ask God "what else? what next?" Sometimes it's better not to know.
Rick was buried in a casket lined with a Pendleton blanket. We went to the Pendleton Roundup rodeo every year. He participated in the stage coach race and later in the Happy Canyon Indian Pageant. It seemed appropriate. It also seemed appropriate that when we ordered the casket, the person at the casket company knew Rick from high school. The man knew so many people, he had so many friends that I can't tell you the times I stood waiting for him to wind up a conversation with yet another person he knew that we ran into on the street. He could remember names and faces and tell stories about people that I had long forgotten. He loved people. People loved him.
I'm working on creating a life, where there is not a glimmer of my old life left. I go to my grief counselor. I'm finishing up what work I have left to do at the business. I go to the movies on Fridays with my sister. She babysits me. She'll tell you that isn't true, but it is. If I didn't have her to tell me that things will be ok, I don't know what I'd do. The thing is, I know it's a lie. Things will never be ok again. They just are what they are.
posted by Joy at 1:48 PM
3 Comments:
Joy, I keep thinking about you but my fingers get tongue-tied thinking about what to say. I did not know the employees left. I am dumbfounded. I must say that while I agree that nothing will be o.k. again in the way that "o.k." means to you, I truly believe you will find unexpected happiness in the future. You are wonderfully poised and lovely and you are sure to attract good things when you're ready.
oh joy i am so sad for all that you have had to endure---of course i am sitting here crying---it's the only thing i can do.i know it seems like nothing will ever make you happy again.i can see why,but with the little hope that is left with your sweet sister and your wonderful children i hope you get a glimmer every now and then.love you.
This entry made me cry. I felt the same way when I got the call that my brother's body had finally been recovered from the river. It didn't feel like the "good thing" others said it was. As for everything else you've been through (your brother and father-in-law), I don't know what to say except I am truly sorry that you have had to endure so much pain. It's overwhelming. I hope that you will find some peace of mind and heart.
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