The day I got the call……

 

Image

Because I feel music helps… feel free to press play.

 

I was sitting in the middle of the room; the call center. I was at work; my children were at the babysitter’s, all except my oldest who was in kindergarten.

A male co-worker sat in the next cubicle. He got a call. “Christine, I got a call from someone looking for you. A guy in Louisiana. Do you want me to transfer it over?”

Things just got weird.

I asked who it was.

I noticed the commotion while he inquired who was calling me; a personal call at work.

My supervisor came through the door at the other end of the room. I saw her running my way.

Nobody ever ran in the call center.

Things were getting weirder.

She was waving her hands high in the air. She was yelling, “Wait! Don’t transfer that call!”

Nobody knew who she was talking to.

I noticed her though.

I heard her.

It just didn’t register.

Things were getting blurry.

The call had been transferred before she made it to my desk. She was still running towards me.

I wasn’t scared. It was his father. I liked his father. I had just seen him over Christmas, less than a month prior. They had come to visit our children. I thought maybe something happened to one of his grandparents; or maybe someone was in a car accident.

He never even said hello.

“Eric’s gone!”

I had no idea what he was saying.

“What?”

“Eric’s gone Baby…”

“Gone where? Where did he go?”

You see, we had separated about 7 months prior.

I had only seen him once in those 7 months. He showed up unexpectedly one afternoon after work; he had sat in my driveway until I showed up, late October. That was the last time I had seen him.

He had asked me for money and forgiveness.

I gave him what I could; it wasn’t much.

When I left him the final time, he didn’t cope well. I know this.

He lived in a camper too for a while ironically; in the parking lot at his work.

One night, he crashed his car into the building by accident. He lost his job.

He ran when he got scared.

He ran that night.

He ran to Pennsylvania.

I never knew that he was in Pennsylvania; until I got a copy of his cashed out 401k.

They mailed me a copy of the records.

My eyes were fixated on the woman’s name and address where the check was sent. Her name is one, among many that I have not forgotten.

He was running.

I sighed and I wondered, but I let him run.

“Eric’s gone baby”

I stood up from my chair. My supervisor was almost to my cubicle. Things were starting to blur. I didn’t understand.

“I don’t understand! Where did he go?”

“He’s dead” he said, as he broke down.

I screamed that day in the office.

I remember screaming. I think I dropped the phone then.

Everyone in the office stood up, over their cubicles and stared at me. They were all blurry, but I saw them all.

“NOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!”

My scream turned into sobbing.

My knees bent.

I fell.

My supervisor was now standing over me. I felt her hand on me. I was on the floor.

I couldn’t think.

I couldn’t process this.

This hurt a lot.

I don’t remember how that phone call ended. I think someone else ended that call.

An old friend from high school worked there with me. She was there that day.

She drove me home.

I never said a word.

I looked out the window.

I cried.

I was trying to process this.

What did this mean? How did this happen? This wasn’t fair!

Oh my God, how do I tell our children?

Oh my God – OUR CHILDREN!

She drove me all the way to my apartment. She found our suitcases. She packed our clothes. She made phone calls.

I think my best friend showed up and helped, but I’m not sure.

It is blurry.

I had her drive me to pick up the children.

They were so excited that I was early.

I was so heartbroken. They were going to be heartbroken.

Why?

Why us?

Why them?

Why him?

Why?

I knew that I didn’t have the answers. How in the world was I going to explain this when I couldn’t even understand it?

I went into auto-pilot. I knew how to auto-pilot.

Auto-pilot is a place where I box up my emotions to get through. There are times in life, when auto-pilot was my only option of survival. It is one foot in front of the other. Keep walking. Don’t look around. Do something. Anything. Don’t feel it yet. Can’t feel it yet. Can’t do it yet. It is auto-pilot. Auto-pilot always ends, eventually. It hurts coming out of auto-pilot.

He was in Louisiana. He had gone down there to go back to diving. He was a commercial deep-sea diver. This made things 100% more challenging.

How was I going to get those kids on a plane, headed for Louisiana without the words? I knew that if I told them we were going to Louisiana, they would get excited.

I could not let them get excited.

How do I avoid this? God, I hated this! I am not strong enough for this.

I didn’t ask for this! I did not want this! This is life – unfair!

He had hurt me, but he didn’t deserve to die. He deserved time. He deserved time to learn, to grow, to heal. I believe everyone deserves that.

Life was so unfair!

I wanted to kick life in the teeth! I felt like a punching bag. I wanted to hit back. I wanted to scream, kick and just fight! I was so tired of all of the unfairness!

Whoever made up that stupid saying, “God only gives you what you can handle” is an idiot!

I was not strong enough for the words.

You probably wondered how I got them on that plane. You probably wonder what words I did use.

I probably failed.

I did the best I could at that time.

After we had picked them all up, I sat them in the living room. It was their first ‘family meeting’; we’ve had many throughout the years, though this was their first.

I didn’t cry. I came down to them.  I sat on the floor with them in the living room. I looked at their faces, all four of them.

I told them that there was an emergency and we had to go on a trip. We were going to the airport. I told them we would talk about it when we got there.

I had no idea what to say. I needed help and no one could help me with this one. No one knew what to say.

I believe it was the first plane ride for three of them.

We boarded the plane a few hours later. I never slept that night. I think we got to Houston around 4 am. I was still trying to figure out what to say.

Houston was a few hours from their house. I don’t even know for sure? Was it 2, 3 or 4 hours? It was the longest 24 hours of my life. Actually, it was kind of a long week that moved in slow motion. I couldn’t speed it up, no matter how hard I tried. It blurred – time.

His parents picked us up. They knew I hadn’t told them yet. I respected that they let me do it – no matter how long it took me. It was my place. It rested on my shoulders; though I didn’t want the job. Looking back, I’m glad they waited and let me do it. Honestly, I don’t think they knew the words to say either. It’s not something you really ‘know’ how to do.

They slept some on the plane, once their excitement wore off. I just couldn’t keep that from happening. They were happy kids most of the time. They were funny kids. They talked to strangers on the plane. They played games. They colored.

When we got to the house, I think they may have gone to bed for a few hours.

I got a phone call that morning. I wasn’t a fan of random phone calls anymore. A few hours before had changed my perspective on random calls. You ever get the feeling like you are waiting for the next shoe to drop? That’s kinda how I felt.

That phone call was a miracle. I believe this. I don’t know how it happened or what made her call, but she saved me. I felt like I was drowning then. I knew I couldn’t procrastinate any longer. I had to tell them.

She threw me a life saver, a floating device. It didn’t take me out of the water, but it kept me from drowning.

It was the school counselor (my oldest was in kindergarten).

When she said my name, I lost it.

And yet, I knew she would help.

She did.

She helped me figure out what to say. She stayed on the phone with me for as long as I needed. She didn’t tell me that this would be easy. She told me this would be hard, but she also gave me tools for the toolbox. She helped me find the words. I could never repay her for what she gave me that day.

Maybe you wonder what she gave me?

I’m not sure I can describe into words. I will try.

Courage?

Help?

Words?

Strength?

Encouragement?

I think she helped me with all of those things and more…..

She helped me pull myself out of auto-pilot briefly. I had to. In order to connect to my children; there couldn’t be any auto-pilot. I knew this. She knew this too. She helped me more than she knew, probably more than she will ever know.

There is something else.

Do you believe in grace? Do you know what grace is? A lot of people don’t. Some do, but I think I have different ideas of what grace is. Grace has sustained me. Through many of my challenges in life, I think there has always been grace; I just didn’t always recognize it. Grace helped me a lot. I don’t know if I can explain it. Maybe there is no explanation of grace.

He rarely called the children or me during that separation. He was fighting demons. He was trying to figure it out. I cut him slack. I knew all of this. I was trying to figure out stuff too.

And yet, three days before he was killed suddenly, he had called.

This is grace.

There is no explanation.

I don’t know why.

I don’t care why.

I just know I will never forget that call.

I wish my kids could remember.

The phone call lasted a long time; maybe two hours?

Our youngest was a baby. I believe she was 18 months old. She couldn’t really carry on a conversation like the rest.

Do you know what he did?

He sang to her.

I remember she sat there with the phone to her ear and sang along with him.

I will never forget this.

I will always be thankful for this.

Grace.

He spoke to the boys too. For a long time he talked to them.

Then he talked to me.

I remember his words.

“I know I’ve made mistakes. If it takes the rest of my life to make it up to you. If it takes the rest of my life, I’m going to do it. I’m going to show you. I’ll prove it to you.”

That was hard!

His words were hard at the time.

They were even harder three days later, when I got the call.

 

© LifeasChristine, 2014. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to LifeasChristine with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Advertisements

4 thoughts on “The day I got the call……

  1. […] after The Day I Got The Call, I arrived at the funeral home. The beauty of the rugs and the dirt […]

  2. […] the funeral of my first husband (read The Day I Got the Call…), I returned to my apartment in New York with the children. I don’t remember exactly when I had […]

  3. […] years ago, was the day I got the call.. Fifteen years goes by so […]

  4. […] you ever read the day I got the call, you may find irony in the telephone […]

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s