5.05.2010

dear porter,


it's been 2 months, today.

i took this picture the day you died.
probably about 4 hours before.
i had just gotten miles's new bumbo in the mail.
and i brushed his hair in a comb-over and i thought it was funny.
i think a lot about that day.
how it could have been just like any other day.
it was just like any other day.

i hung out all afternoon at home with miles.
we had some errands to run.
and we needed to go out to walmart in quincy,
but we waited for wade to come home.
i remember i was kind of grumpy that evening.
not like a mean grumpy,
just a little moody.
but not really sure why.

on our way to walmart,
we passed a taco bell.
wade and i were starving,
so we decided to stop and eat real quick.
i remember an old lady
eating all by herself.
and i felt so bad for her.
and i wondered if her husband had died.
and i wanted to go sit with her.
but i felt dumb, so i didn't.
i should have.
then miles dropped his binky on the dirty floor.
and a bunch of annoying teenagers came in.
and i was in a hurry to leave.

and during that time, you had fallen.
as i sat there eating a quesadilla,
you were laying at the base of a cliff.
my little brother,
lifeless.
and i was in a taco bell.
and i didn't know.

then we waited in long lines at walmart.
it was way busy.
and we had to return something.
so we waited for like a half hour.
and the whole time i waited in that line,
you were already gone.
the whole time i looked at mini-muffin tins,
and diapers,
and baby socks,
and malt-o-meal cereal.
stupid things that don't matter.
(ok, maybe the diapers mattered...}
but it just bugs me so much,
that i carried on my normal routine,
not knowing.

mom called me at midnight that night.
i had already gone to bed at 10,
which was weird for me.
i didn't answer my phone when she called.
wade finally answered because he was still up.
he woke me up and handed me the phone.
and all i heard was panic.
i told mom to do cpr.
it was the only thing that came to my mind.
i told her to do cpr over and over.
and she just kept saying she couldn't.
and she said, "please call grandma."
and i was left to cry.
harder than i've ever cried in my life.
so hard i couldn't breathe.
and i asked wade to pray.
i told him to pray and ask for a miracle.
ask for you to be ok.
we both know you're ok.
just not the kind of ok i was hoping for.

i wonder if you watched us.
if you saw us in pain.
if you saw us crying
and hurting that day.
i wonder if, even in your happy state,
you still felt a little bit sad for us.
sad for what we were feeling.
sad that you weren't with us anymore.
and i wonder if you miss us.
or if you are so close
that you don't need to miss us
and we just don't realize it.

love you.

5 comments:

Anonymous said...

It's been a while since I have been to a point of crying, always sad, but not crying. This letter brought back all the emotions of that night. It's good to know that I haven't lost them. Thank you

LL said...

we think alike Kali.
My mind often goes over what I was doing when....(depending on the situation)
I LOVE your letters to Porter. They are always so touching~

Jacki said...

I think it is the "not knowing" that is truly hard on everyone. I'm pretty sure he is so close enjoying the happy moments in your life because I'm sure he wouldn't want you to be sad. Keep your chin up. Remember the good memories of him. I too LOVE the letters!

Have a blessed day! said...

Oh Kali, I cannot even begin to know the emotional rollercoaster you are on. MINUTES before reading this post, I popped in my Matthew West CD and hit "random" on the CD player. The song, Save A Place For Me came on.

Girly, today I feel as though Porter is singing this song to you.
Praying for you.

Jackie

LyndiLou said...

Oh Kali... I've got to remember to check your blog more often, so I don't go through an emotional roller coaster myself. Happy Mom posts... Sweet Tear Filled Porter posts... Sweet Baby Miles pots. You are quite the emotional release.

I love that you are sooo willing and brave to share these intimate thoughts with the world.

It makes me braver. Once I stop crying, that is.