Trip to Old Faithful

HOUR 1:

            Getting settled in the car, I put on the maps to our destination: Yellowstone National Park. Mom has always wanted to see Old Faithful in action, so here it begins. Living in Idaho my whole life, this the farthest trip I’ve ever taken. As hour one begins to pass us by, Mom and Aunt Claire exchange small talk mostly fussing over music and trying to connect to Bluetooth. I suggest pulling over several times to connect it for them, but mom hits me with, “Ella. I got this.” Of course, they want to “figure it out” for themselves. Ugh, I don’t know why they won’t just let me do it. It’s my car after all. I know how to work it. I start to tune them out and focus on the road. My thoughts begin to trace over the last time Aunt Claire and I spent any significant amount of time together.

#

Aunt Claire lived on some land out in Timbuktu, not literally but it felt like it was. My mom used to pick me up from school on Friday’s and drive to meet Aunt Claire and Kayce, so I could spend the weekend there. I never minded going to Kayce’s house. She had a pool and a swingset, so there was always something to get into. Since the weather had started to change, we decided to make a hideout out of the abandoned shed in the woods behind her house. We always explored the woods whenever we couldn’t swim. We made up little stories and pretended there were fairies and stick monsters that protected us from the dangers of the woods. Carrying sticks as we walked to the shed, we dropped pieces to mark the path. Not that we could really tell which sticks were the ones we dropped and ones that were already there. Kayce counted the sticks as we walked, letting her light-up Sketchers light the path before us. She counted sixty-four sticks as we walked forward, thirty-two sticks as we went to the left, another twenty sticks straight ahead led us right to the old shed. As we wandered into the dark shelter that was claimed as our new clubhouse, we realized that we needed some light, aside from Kayce’s shoes, and some supplies.

#

            OUR GOD IS AN AWESOME GOD HE REIGNS blasts through the speaker at full volume breaking me from my thoughts. What the actual fuck Mom, flashes through my brain. She must’ve turned the volume all the way up while she was trying to figure out how to connect, but still this music cannot be hers. “Whose music is this?” I ask nonchalantly so as to not sound rude after I turn the music down to an almost unnoticeable level.

“Aunt Claire’s! Don’t you love it?” she replies in a way I know I’m supposed to say yes. “Yeah, it was just SUPER loud.” I say before Aunt Claire chimes in with, “This is the only kind of music I listen to; it’s so great!”

“Heh yeah, totally,” I quickly spit out as I turn the volume up a little bit to keep her from speaking anymore.

But no, she starts singing along, out of tune I must say. Continuing for another thirty minutes, I begin regretting that I didn’t grab that last Dr. Pepper out of the fridge. “Hey, what are the odds you all want to stop for some snacks at the next exit?” I ask hoping that they’re just as thirsty as I am. “Yes” “Perfect,” they say simultaneously. Thankfully, the next exit is only two miles ahead of us, and there’s a Love’s gas station. I know it’s only an hour into our trip, but I decide I’m going to get food anyway. It’ll be something to keep me occupied, so Aunt Claire doesn’t try to talk to me. As I pull into the parking lot, I ask Mom if we should go ahead and fill up the rest of the tank now, so we don’t have to stop again in an hour. “Yeah, honey just make sure you don’t put diesel in it,” she says as I clench my jaw from the stupid remark she made. Of course I’m not going to fucking put diesel in the tank. Once I see them disappear into the convenience store, I slam my door shut as hard as I can. I’m just freaking angry now, and I know I shouldn’t be. I can’t help but think Kayce would be on this trip. Or at least Aunt Claire and her would be home together while Mom and I did this. It’s just not fair that I’m living more of a life than she ever got.

            I’ll never forget that first birthday without her, or her first birthday with her gone. It’s just so unfair. Fuck the whole life isn’t fair shit. It shouldn’t be like this. She was a child; we were just kids. I’m so angry at the world, with myself, even a little bit with Kayce for dying and escaping this hell. I’m angry with God. He’s supposed to be this amazing Savior and be something good, but this feels like anything but good. The numbers rising on the screen in front of me suddenly stop with the thump of the gas cutting off. Bringing me out of my head, the tank is full, so I put the nozzle back on the tank turning to head into the store. As I walk through the convenience side of the store, I make my way to the Mcdonald’s that’s connected. Luckily, the line isn’t too long, I don’t want to keep Mom and Aunt Claire waiting too long. As I quickly get my food and Dr. Pepper, I reluctantly make my way back to the car. Only ten more hours I tell myself.

HOUR 2:

            By the time I turn the car on and get it put in drive, Aunt Claire is reaching across the center console to turn up the volume. Holy crap, how am I going to survive this car ride? I begin eating my french fries, one at a time and trying to tune out the endless streams of Jesus music. I begin to get lost in my mind thinking about when Kayce and I decorated our clubhouse.

#

Kayce and I ran back and forth probably twenty times holding as much as our little arms could carry. As we added the final touches, I decided that we needed blankets. We had already gotten construction paper and decorated the walls, and we rigged flashlights in the corner on a post. Now it was time to make it comfy and cozy. She was still drawing pictures to hang on the wall, so I said, “I’ll go get us some of the ratty blankets from the garage! Do we need anything else?” “Nope! I’m about to tape the last of the drawings on the wall,” she replied with excitement. We were so proud of our new fort. As I left to get the blankets, I yelled, “I’ll be right back!” I ran as quickly as my 12-year-old legs would take me, which felt ultrafast. It wasn’t though.

#

Looking over after twenty minutes of driving, Mom is passed out in the passenger seat. I can never sleep on road trips, but that’s mainly because Mom drives an indecisive cat that doesn’t know where to jump to next. I swear I think Mom’s a certified crazy person sometimes. Jerking the wheel side to side, she likes to drive with her knees more than her hands. I drive completely opposite to that. I speed going at least twenty over the speed limit at all times, but that’s why I keep both hands on the wheel. I have to maintain complete control of the car, if I’m going to go that fast. As I look into the rearview mirror, I catch Aunt Claire eyeing the speedometer. Letting my foot off the gas a little bit, I decide it’s probably time to actually converse with her.

            “How have you been, Aunt Claire?” I say to open the air.

            “I’ve been great, honestly. I still have my hard days, but there’s peace within me.”

            “How?” I blurt out in disbelief. There is no way that she can lose her own daughter and be at peace, while I’m barely surviving most days.

            “I’ll admit it hasn’t been an easy journey to come to know this kind of peace, but the Lord truly does allow all things to happen for a reason. Kayce gave her life to the Lord when she was ten years old. I’ve always said I’m a Christian and we went to church, but I don’t think I ever truly knew God. Not until I had no one else to turn to.”

            “How can you believe in a God that would rip your child from the earth so young? She barely got a life. I can barely handle this and it’s been four years. Surely, a God so good wouldn’t make his people hurt/suffer like this.”

            “You ever think that God gives us these things because He knows we can’t handle it on our own? Your mom used to tell me in the beginning that God wouldn’t give us anything we couldn’t handle.”

            “Yeah, she’s said that to me many times” I interrupt after a long pause thinking back to how many times mom has said that..

            “Yeah, well I think it’s quite the opposite. God gives us these things that we can’t handle on our own, so that we will turn to Him. I could hardly get out of bed those first six months. I wanted to die with her, and a part of me did. One day, an older lady, from our church, came over and we talked. She had lost her son three years before, so she knew exactly what I was going through.”

            “But still, that doesn’t take away the pain, does it?”

            “No, the grief and the pain is what shapes us into who we need to be to fulfill God’s purpose for us. Ella, I know you’re hurting; I can see it. The anger and frustration with the loss of Kayce is something I know all too well.”

            Tears brimming to my eyes, I try to focus on my breathing, so I don’t start crying. If there’s anything I hate more than grief, it’s being vulnerable and letting people see my weakness. “Can we stop talking about this?” I interject. It’s been nearly fifteen minutes of this, and I can’t do this right now. I’m literally about to start crying, and she’s talking oh so casually. “Yes, I’m going to try and rest for a little bit,” she replies while I spend the next few songs trying to recollect myself.

HOUR 3:

            Aunt Claire leans over out of sight of the rearview mirror, thank goodness. Finally, allowing myself to blink, I hastily wipe away the few tears that fell. As I turn the music up a little bit, I’m mindful about the volume as Mom and Aunt Claire are trying to sleep. Thinking about how the anger has started to consume me, I try to think about what Aunt Claire said. However, it only adds to my rage. How can she sit here talking about how okay she’s become? I can’t understand it. Looking at the bright blue skies above, the sun is blaring. How dare the sun come out to shine while I’m in misery. As I pull down my visor, I see the picture I stuck up there on Kayce and I on a playground at her church. It’s been four years since Kayce died, why does this anger still control me? It still feels unreal that Kayce is truly dead. We were twelve; I mean she was a child. Children shouldn’t die. She can’t be gone I tell myself. It’s all just a twisted dream. But I know that is not the case, I can just go to the cemetery for confirmation. Before I know it, the time shows that an hour has already gone by.

HOUR 4:

            Listening to the low melody of whatever Christian song is playing now, I find myself thinking about what Aunt Claire said. Will I ever have the peace she knows? My mind begins to think back to the day everything happened. When I found Kayce’s lifeless body, it disrupted any chance of peace I could imagine.

#

As I ran-counted my way back to the fort, I noticed something had changed. I couldn’t clearly make out the fort like I had been able to before. I started to run faster, but as I got closer, I was met with horror. The wooden shed had collapsed on Kayce. It wasn’t the safest shed, but we thought it seemed sturdy enough. We each pushed on it making sure it was sturdy while  avoiding the exposed nails piercing through the wooden planks. We checked to see if it was going to fall. However, coming to full view, all I saw was Kayce’s limp hand as I scanned the toppled remnants. I dove to the ground trying to get Kayce free. Hysterically yelling, I was scraped by rusted nails in the process. I yelled loud enough for Aunt Claire to hear. She came out running. I could hear the rustle and snaps of the sticks as she got into sight. Ripping the planks of wood off in one swift motion, Kayce’s still body laid there before us. She broke to her knees and grabbed Kayce’s body, rocking her back and forth in her arms. Tears streamed down her face, as she attempted to tell me to go call 911. All I heard was “nine” before I darted for the house. I knew there was no way the ambulance would get here fast enough, but I kept my hopes up.

#

Shaking the wandering thoughts out of my head before I end up crying, I grab my phone to hook up my music to bluetooth. As the music cuts off, Aunt Claire jolts awake saying, “What happened to the music?”

 “Oh sorry, I was going to switch it to mine since you both went to sleep,” I mutter out in response.

 “Okay, would you like a break from driving? I can switch with you if you want to rest a little bit.”

 “That’d actually be great, I’ll get off at the next exit. We just passed through Spokane.”

As Aunt Claire straightens back into view of the mirror, I steer the car to the right to veer off to the Quikshop just ahead. Coming to a complete stop, we are sure to be quiet so as to not wake Mom up. She could sleep through almost anything. However, if someone wakes her before she’s ready, she is quite literally a raging bitch.  I settle into the backseat using Aunt Claire’s pillow and blanket. Aunt Claire has already reconnected her music. I bet that’s why she wanted to drive, so she could control the music. The faint smell of lavender and eucalyptus reminds me of how Kayce’s room used to smell. I dart my attention towards the sky looking like creamsicle-pastel swirls painted above us. Is that what Heaven would look like? Is Kayce actually there? Letting myself explore my thoughts, I imagine what it would be like to reunite with her in Heaven. Excitedly running towards her, I wonder if she’d still be twelve. Of course, she’d still be twelve. Watching the kaleidoscope of landscapes pass me by with amusement, I can’t help but create scenarios of us running through the clouds. Would there be trees in Heaven? There were trees in the Garden of Eden. There wouldn’t be any pain. As my mind drifts from thought to thought, I feel my eyes getting heavier and heavier. I need to rest, I think to myself right before I succumb to sleep.

HOUR 5:

            The hums of the music fade in and out as I curl up in the back. As I attempt to make my mind go blank, all I can think about is Kayce’s funeral.

#

Kayce’s funeral was five days after. The casket cover over her white casket was filled with blue delphinium, a beautifully poisonous flower. The pastor from their church spoke as the casket was lowered into the ground. “God called her home to be with Him” he said as I dropped a lone, pruned rose down in the hole.

#

The car jerking into park doesn’t stop the tears that have started to form in my eyes. Keeping my eyes closed for a minute longer, mom informs me that we’re stopping for bathroom break and for them to get snacks. Knowing I won’t be able to contain the tears this time,  I swiftly tell them,  “I’m going to go use the restroom,” before rushing out the door practically running into the convenience shop.

Busting through the door of the restroom, I’m grateful it’s a single-person bathroom. Comforted to know that know one can barge in here, I break to my knees letting tears fall uncontrollably. Breathing heavily to keep myself from crying too hard, I squeeze my eyes shut to get all the tears out before I turn the faucet on and run cold water over my face. This is something I’ve gotten good at. Having a full-blown mental breakdown and containing it quick enough for no one to notice. I know it shouldn’t be a skill I’m proud of but with how this grief is, it’s a good thing I can let it out when needed. I’ve learned that when I try to hold my tears in, I hold my breath, which only makes the tears come faster. Breathing has become a big practice of mine. Now if only, I knew how to turn my brain off or become numb to everything. That’d be nice.

As I walk out of the bathroom, I run into Aunt Claire. She’s been waiting for me to get out, which makes me a little uneasy. Hopefully, she couldn’t hear any of my muffled cries. I don’t know how she is surviving without Kayce; it feels like some days the grief will be the death of me. Aunt Claire exits the bathroom and heads out the door as mom finishes checking out the goodies she got for me and Aunt Claire.

We get back into the car, and I get back into the somewhat comfortable spot as before. Refocusing my thoughts with a spark of awareness, I force myself into a loss of lucidity. The brain finally succumbs to the darkness. The total blackness of a dreamless sleep is always a good thing. It’s definitely better than the nightmares that usually fill my nights.

HOUR 6:

            Tossing and turning in attempts to sleep comfortably, I reposition myself a few times to avoid the seat belt buckle that pierces into my hip every now and then. The soft sounds of hymns play like a lullaby keeping me asleep for the next couple hours.

HOUR 8:

            Drifting back into consciousness, my eyes remain closed pretending that reality doesn’t exist for a little longer. Aunt Claire and Mom are talking. How they got into this conversation, I don’t know.

            “Grief isn’t something you go through and it stops. It’s never ending. It’s kind of like Old Faithful; under certain circumstances or moments, it erupts. It comes out of nowhere sometimes, but most of the time it’s lying right under the surface. You can always count on it to happen. It’s just not as predictable,” Aunt Claire says in a hushed tone.

            “I wish I could take it away. It can’t be an easy thing to deal with,” Mom replies, not even trying to be quiet. I almost think she wants me to wake up.

            “It’s not supposed to be easy. I constantly have to remind myself that she is happier than she ever would have been here. She has no pain; she doesn’t have to experience the treacheries of this world. She is safe with God protecting her.”

            Mom doesn’t respond immediately, as I’m sure she doesnt know how to respond. We’re not exactly the most religious family. I’d like to think that there is a higher power controlling this world. Having a purpose for each and every life, it’s kind of a nice idea. As I lie there hiding my consciousness a little while longer, I play over what Aunt Claire said in my head.

HOUR 9:

            Letting myself really fall into the possibility that God is real, I allow myself to see it from Aunt Claire’s perspective. I mean God didn’t have to create Kayce. I could have not ever known her. Then, I wouldn’t have even half the childhood I had. I would’ve had to deal with my parents divorce on my own. I wouldn’t have the joy and memories that got me through that. Maybe this is what accepting Kayce’s death can feel like. But still, how can Aunt Claire be at such a stage of acceptance? My eyes are open at this point studying the passing clouds that move against the grain. Mom reaches back softly, laying her hand on my knee to bring me back to reality. Part of the anger begins to surge again, and this time it has a voice of its own.

Addressing Aunt Claire without a second thought, I pipe up with, “How the fuck do you not hurt that Kayce is dead?

“ELLA!” mom exclaims.

“No mom, I’m sorry that it’s rude, but I’m barely getting through a day without wishing I had died with her. It can’t just be faith that’s bringing her this so-called peace.”

Turning to Aunt Claire, I continue, “How are you not just completely and utterly broken. Shattered. Because I am, and how you’re not is beyond me,” I finish with a huff.

“I was and still am hurting, Ella. I hurt every second of every day. There will never be a day that I don’t think about Kayce. She was my child, my baby. Trust me when I say, I know exactly what you mean and what you’re feeling. It wasn’t until recently that I was able to actually make it through a day without losing it,” she declares pausing for a breath.

 “I know the anger you’re feeling too. I know it all too well. I took a bat to everything in my house only stopping when I caught sight of the photo of me holding Kayce as an infant. Every piece of me is shattered, and these past few years felt like the shards were shattering more with how much I held onto it.”

“Then, how are you okay right now? How can you even talk about this without tears brimming to your eyes?” I interject.

“I held onto that picture. It came with me every time I moved to a new room. It sat in my purse when I would go out to the grocery or on my visor when I was in the car. Looking at it so often that the image began to wear on the edges. Day after day, I looked at the image sometimes more than I could count. But as the days went on, I found myself looking at it less and less.”

“So what? You began to forget about her? What does a picture have to do with any of this? With acceptance?” As I interrupt, I think back to my photo that’s just above her head hidden in the visor.

“No, I will never forget her, Ella. What I am saying is that you stop holding onto the physical desire for her back, and you start to learn that she’s with you in your heart. Your memories. We will never get her back. Not in this world. But we can carry her with us, close to our hearts, letting go of the pain of it all as you learn to truly embrace the joy of it all.”

“But everything hurts, it even hurts seeing you. All I think about is Kayce and that day in the woods, so I imagine you feel the same pang in your gut when you see me.”

HOUR 10:

            Looking at the clock in between this little heart-to-heart we’re having, I am thankful to see that there’s only two hours remaining of this overcharged car ride.

            Bringing up a Bible verse, Aunt Claire continues, “Seeing you brings me to the memories of you and Kayce playing in my backyard when I would look out the kitchen window. But I have my breaking moments, I still get angry sometimes. At the circumstances and even at God too. But someone once showed me 1 Peter 4:13, which says ‘But rejoice, in as much as you participate in the sufferings of Christ, so that you may be overjoyed when His glory is revealed.’ When we endure suffering on this Earth, it is for a far greater purpose that we cannot understand. Have you ever seen an image incredibly zoomed in, and you couldn’t figure out what it was? Then, it zooms out and turns out to be something you knew all along. It’s like that; we cannot see the full image of this. But God can, He has good in store to come from this. You can trust that God will not let you live in this suffering forever.”

            Letting her words sink in, it actually kind of makes sense. There are so many more memories of us than of that horrible day. Reminiscing on the countless movies night filled with laughter between us, the picnics we set up by making mud pies, and when we used to play mermaids in her pool, a smile creeps along my face. Surprised at the lack of tears, I realize this is one of the first times I think about her without sadness. I’ve never been able to think of Kayce dying and smile because of how grateful I am to have known her. A soft smile comes to my face as I sit there and think back on the fond memories. Memories that were making me cry yesterday and even today. For the first time in years, I can feel the anger subsiding.

            As I let my mind wander, I tread to different memories waiting for one to erupt angry tears. As I look out the window, I catch sight of a patch of blue delphinium along the median. Bringing my focus to yesterday when I visited Kayce’s grave.

#

 I brought her those same flowers that were at her funeral. Getting out of the car, I almost forgot to grab the blanket out of the back seat, so I could sit with her for a bit. As I walked with some hesitance, I realized it’s a bittersweet moment every time I came there. Luckily, her grave is the last one on the row closest to the car, so I didn’t have any trouble finding hers. Setting the flowers at her headstone, I bent to my knees touching my fingers to my lips and laid them to her name. “I miss you Kay, it’s not the same without you” I said to no one. As I sprawled the blanket out next to the casket buried six feet below, I laid down next to her looking up at the cloudless sky above me. “Why did you have to die? Why couldn’t it have happened to both of us?” I said to the sky as if it would bring me a response. Will I ever be okay? It felt like time only made it worse. One minute I was okay, and the next was like I had lost you all over again. I didn’t understand. Knowing I couldn’t stay there too much longer, I began folding up my blanket to leave as I took one last glance at Kayce’s headstone.

#

            The lack of tears brings a greater smile to my face. I hope this doesn’t go away. It’s kind of nice being able to remember the joy that Kayce can bring me.

HOUR 11:

            “Only one hour left!” mom exclaims as we cross the state line into Wyoming. Heck yes. I’m so ready to get out of a car, but this ride hasn’t been as bad as I thought it would. An emotional rollercoaster? Yes, but it has also been incredibly helpful. Feeling bad about my outburst towards Aunt Claire, I speak up saying, “Sorry about early and for the cussing.” Aunt Claire thankfully responds, “Honey, I have heard and used my fair share of curse words. I’m just glad that you were about to talk to me about this. I’m always here for you, and I know how much it’s affected you to lose her.” Finding comfort in knowing that she is open to talking about Kayce, I really start to notice the change in her demeanor. Even before Kayce died, she was calm and collected. But now it’s like there’s a serenity about her, could it really be from the power of God? Honing in on the circumstances of my life, I look back thinking about all the times I thought I would die from the grief. The times I thought it might be easier to end it all instead of living with this sorrow. Maybe God was there. Maybe He was holding onto me in those weak moments saying, “Hold on, child. I got something better in store for you.” Pleased by the idea that God does have a reason for all of this, I finally relinquish the anger that I had been holding onto. I thought letting go of the anger and sadness meant that I was forgetting about Kayce, but it’s the complete opposite. I can finally remember what Kayce truly meant to me and know that she lives on forever in both my heart and in Heaven. I want to see her again. I know she is happy there living a pain free life.

            As we make our way into civilization again, we enter a small town with old-timey shops along the street. Making me wonder what Heaven looks like, I grin at the idea of reuniting with her again. I need to let go of the reins on my life and let God take control. Feeling the anger dissipate, I sit with God in that very moment, thanking Him for getting me here.