DAYS BEFORE THE FUNERAL

The next few days before the funeral are a blur, a feeling of being somewhere yet nowhere, just an emptiness that was so indescribable and extremely deep – total despair and abandonment. I vaguely recall various events here and there – like a jigsaw puzzle, with so many missing pieces. I try to get the picture complete but it is impossible with so many blanks and life just seemed like one cruel, hideous experience with no meaning at all.

That very next day, flowers began arriving, people called, the church got together and for a week superb tasty meals, and delicious puddings were delivered to our home. But to me, nothing mattered, nothing made sense and eating was the last thing on my mind – I had totally lost any taste for life at all. I recall our home being so filled with flowers and cards that we began running out of space. Friends and family milling around, making tea and coffee and conversations where in hushed tones. I wondered around aimlessly, thankful for the support and those around me, yet also wanting to be alone, with my thoughts, memories and devastated state of mind.

The nights, came and went. Two days slipped by and time was of no essence. Then it happened, 29^th November 1993, we had to go and identify her body. Her body??? What a weird feeling, Karen had become just a “body”... Lifeless with no soul, spirit or character... just a body! Fear gripped my like a vice and I was petrified to go to the morgue and there and then decided to not go but to remember her as she was. How could I go to a place where she would be laid out on a cold slap for me to view – it all seemed so cold, so impersonal – this was my precious daughter, not just a body! In the end my eldest daughter Natasha said she would go for me – what would I have done without Natasha? Evonne could not be put through this as she was seven months pregnant. Natasha, my strong child, who took so much on her shoulders – and in years to come, would do so much more for us all. Cope, identify, and arrange the funerals of her own father, mother in law and father in law.

On returning from the morgue, I pumped Natasha with so many questions, and she to the best of her ability tried to tell me what she had seen. She was placed before a glass window, with a purple curtain in front of it. When they pulled it back, there lay her little sister .... her hair still mattered with blood, and trickles of blood that had run out of her nose, mouth and ears. The autopsy report was as follows: Multiple bruises and abrasions of the legs, Bruises and abrasions of the face, Conjunctival bleedings of the left eye, there is a 3cm laceration behind the left ear, large base skull fracture, extending from the right fossa to the left occipital region, Large bleeding into the right temporal lobe and uncus. How crushed her perfect petite little body was. Her lifeless eyes were half open and ........ I cannot begin to imagine what my daughter Natasha had to go through at that moment. I was suddenly angry with myself, that I had not gone with her, been there to support her and still regret this decision to this day. How one’s life can change in a split second – Karen, the person we knew and loved, no longer existed. She was yet another statistic of the South African Road Accidents and was now body number DR 3533/93.

Nightmare Reality

I have many times tried to recall the events that followed that evening but they remain a mystery to me. It frustrates me because I cannot seem to remember in what sequence they took place. With our telephone out of order I could contact no-one and had to rely on my family to make the necessary calls. As each second passed I kept on thinking of how many hours Karen had been dead. The thought of her lying somewhere alone in a morgue was unbearable. All I wanted was for her to come home.

There are no words to describe the pain I felt inside. I was hurting and felt terribly afraid and lost. Over and over a picture flashed through my mind ..... Karen turning at a robot. I could see her - happy, music playing on her car tape .... Then, without warning, another vehicle hitting her car. I see her little body jerk from the impact, I see blood and hear her scream. I hear glass shatter and metal scraping - and then - a moment's silence. Suddenly, people all around her trying to help, and I am not there. She is alone amongst strangers and dies without one of her family at her side. I shut my eyes tight, tears flow as I try to push this picture out of my mind ... only to have it return moments later.

Family and friends began arriving. I remember each one, silent and at a loss for words. Stunned at the tragedy which had struck us so suddenly. I was anxious to see Evonne and Natasha, but also afraid because I did not know what to expect or what to say to them. I think I was more afraid of seeing their pain and heartache ... something I realised I would not be able to protect them from. Gerrie and Evonne walked in and my heart twisted in anguish. Her eyes were red and swollen, unbelief and horror written so clearly all over her face. She wrapped her arms around me and sobbed. My youngest brother and his family arrived and a while later my parents. We hugged each other and cried and each one tried their best to comfort me with words of encouragement and love. Tessa came, and when I saw her my last hope of Karen being alive faded. They had not swopped cars as they sometimes did. When I think back now of this hope I had, I feel guilty, but I suppose this is only being what they call "human".

When Craig walked in, my mind was suddenly alert and my attention totally focused. Craig was one of Karen's friends from work. I instinctively knew he would have been at the scene of the accident and would be able to tell us more of what had happened. He was pale and still in a state of shock. "I'm so sorry, I don't know what to say. It is such a shock" he whispered, fighting back the tears. "Were you there, did you see what happened?" I asked frantically. "I was two cars behind Karen. The robot was green for her, and she was waiting to turn right. There was a car in front of her. I'm not sure if the other car had stalled but it would not move. I don't know if Karen became impatient or if she was afraid the robot would change and she would caught in the middle of the road ... but she suddenly pulled out behind the car and turned. She never saw the minibus coming from the other direction. The minibus was travelling at a very high speed and it's on a steep downhill. Seeing the red robot, and most likely not wanting to stop, or could not stop at that speed, the minibus slipped to the left on the slipway, then proceeded to travel straight, and so hitting Karen’s car full on, and threw her car thirteen meters across the road into the robot. What we were hearing was awful, but I desperately needed to know every little detail of what had happened. "Was she alive, was she badly hurt, did she say anything to you ...?" The questions would not stop. I had to know! I had to know! And here was someone who was one of the last people Karen had contact with before she died. I knew it was hard on Craig but at that moment nothing mattered more than knowing. Craig, searching for words, tried his best to answer the questions pouring from me. "Karen never said anything. When I reached her car she was bleeding from her nose and mouth. Fred and I took her out and laid her on the ground as we were afraid that she may have chocked .... she seemed to have had difficulty in breathing ... then the paramedics arrived and took over. She wasn't conscious and I am sure she never suffered any pain. One thing was strange, her hands were still on the steering wheel ... not clenched but relaxed and she had a faint smile on her face." Craig took a few steps forward and held out his hand. "I took off watch, I was afraid someone would steal it." Clutching the watch in my hands, I thanked Craig. He would never know what this meant to me. It was a sort of contact with Karen. Over and over I kept on thinking; this was one of the last things that touched her. I wanted to cherish it forever. "Where is Marion I asked my parents?" suddenly realising that my sister had not yet arrived. "Her office has gone out to Hartebeespoort Dam for the day. Noel is only expecting her back home at seven." "You mean she doesn't know yet?" I whispered. "Noel will tell her when she gets home and then they will also come over." my father answered. I can't remember much of what took place for the next hour or so. My mind was in such a turmoil and my eyes ached from the constant flow of tears. All I wanted was for this to stop! Someone to tell me it did not really happen, but each aching moment dragged on. Minutes turned into hours and I knew these would turn into days, months and eventually years. My mind kept rebelling against the thought of how final death is. Marion and Noel arrived; I have no idea what time, because time meant nothing to me now. Life had little meaning, I just wanted to roll over and die as well. How could I go on living when a vital part of me was dead? Does not a child bury the parent? Aren't parents supposed to grow old and die before their children? Is that not the natural course of life? Nothing made sense; all was out of and beyond my control. Much later that evening Natasha and Martin finally arrived. At least my mind could now have a fragile bit of peace .... both my other children were at least safe and with me. We held on to each other tightly, each one desperately trying to draw strength from the other. Natasha was strained, and I could sense an anger growing inside of her .... I knew she wanted to know how God could have allowed something like this to happen. Someone made tea and coffee and we tried to comfort one another as the hours passed. It was late when the family began to leave, and as we hugged each other goodbye, I realised that one knows when you are saying goodbye for the very last time. Tasha and Evonne prepared sleeping place for themselves and Marcell and insisted that Hennie and I go to bed to rest. As I lay in my bed with the soft glow of the bedside lamp beside me, total exhaustion began seeping through my body ....... but knowing this would be the first night Karen would not be home was too much to bear. My heart ached for her. How could I be lying on a soft bed, warm between the sheets, while she was lying on a cold slab in a morgue. "O my God!! Help me!" I silently cried on the inside and felt once again the warm tears flow over my face. Softly and apprehensively, Tasha and Evonne entered our bedroom and insisted that we each take a sleeping pill so that we could rest. I wanted so much to escape and gladly accepted. Within minutes I felt the room begin to spin and finally fell asleep. Saturday morning as I opened my eyes to the sharp, bright rays of sunlight filtering through the curtains, my very first thought was "KAREN IS DEAD!" The dull ache inside, the turmoil, the horrible dead, dull feeling inside of me returned in all its fury. It was the beginning of a new day, and the beginning of a new way of life for me. I would have to learn all over again how to live ..... you see I had also died the day before. How I was to accomplish this, I did not know ........ I had never been this way before, a journey I was to discover gave me no answers, no solutions - a journey that would continually raise questions.

Morning & Evening - the first day!

Being a born again child of God, having a strong faith in Him, believing in life after death and that those who die in Christ will be resurrected to eternal life, does not in the initial stage of shock and grief ease the pain. I believed all this and had lived it, but at that moment it was of no comfort to me. I wanted my daughter with me. I wanted to see her grow into full womanhood, be married, bear me grandchildren, be a mother and live a full life. Her adult life had just begun to open like a rosebud, and death had come like a knife and cut it off. How could my Heavenly Father have allowed this to happen? Why Karen? Why me? It was only much later that I learned, despite the pain, through all the agony and heartache,to ask the question "Why not Karen? Why not me?" The questions kept flowing, demanding answers, which Noel could not give me at that stage. "Where's Hennie?" Noel cautiously asked. "At home with Marcell" I answered with despair, realising that we still had to break the news to them. How do you tell your husband his youngest daughter had been killed in an accident? How was I going to tell Marcell that Karen had died? There are no easy ways or gentle words to use. Death is not easy and not gentle, it is a thief which steals away that which is precious in life. When we stopped in front of our flat Noel asked me if I wanted him to break the news to Hennie and Marcell. Instinct told me it was time to be strong, pull myself together and do what I had to do. I told Noel I would be alright but wanted him to come in with me. The walk from the car to our flat was the longest and hardest journey I have ever trod. My mind was just a mixed maze of thoughts that made no sense. Fear and horror at what had taken place gripped every fibre in my body, and the reality of it all kept hitting at me with force. On entering our flat I first found Marcell resting on the sitting room couch. He was surprised to see me home so early, but immediately noticed something was wrong. "Marcell..." I lifted my hands to my face, trying to control myself. He immediately jumped up from the couch "Auntie Lydia, what's wrong!" he asked with concern pulling my hands from my face. In that split second my whole being ached for him, knowing that what I had to say was going to be too much for him to be able to grasp. "It's Karen, she was in an accident, she's dead." I kept my eyes fixed on his face. "No! ... No!" he kept saying, eyes wild with terror and disbelief and gasping for air. I tried to put my arms around him but at first he wouldn't let me near him. After a few seconds he held onto me and Noel and I briefly told him what we knew. We cried, still not fully realising the finality of it all. "Where's uncle Hennie?" I asked, my voice shaking. "He's taking an afternoon nap in the bedroom" Marcell answered in a soft whisper. I felt so drained and extremely tired as I went to our bedroom to wake Hennie and tell him. As I looked down at him sleeping so peacefully, I thought this is so unfair. My mind went back to the time I also had to wake him up in the early hours of the morning to tell him his father had passed away. I was also the one to break the news to him of his mother's death, his sister and two brothers. He had already lost so many precious family members. And now the ultimate loss .... his child. I felt the tears well up. How could I tell him? How could I once again be the bearer of tragic news to this man I loved so much. I felt so alone and lost in those few moments and was frightened as to what his reaction would be. Gently touching his shoulder I called his pet name I always use "Spook" .... he grunted, sleepily opened his eyes and smiled questioningly at me. Had he overslept and forgotten to fetch me from work? Then he saw the look on my face. "Something terrible has happened" the words started to spill out. "Karen, ... she's had an accident, ... she's dead!" I will never forget the look on Hennie's face, contorted with horror, shock, fear and unbelief. I desperately needed now to be held by him and feel his strong arms around me, reassuring me it would be alright. Instead, he sat upright and pushed me as hard as he could away from him and in a hysterical voice shouted that it wasn't true and I was lying. Over and over he kept moaning, rocking to and fro with his head buried in his hands. "No! No! Please God, not my child." He wept, and I could feel the tension and anger mounting. Staring blankly in front of him he asked me what had happened. "They better never let me near the person who smashed into my child and killed her!" he said bitterly "because I won't be able to control myself!" After, what seemed like an eternity, we joined Noel and Marcell in the sitting room. It was 4.30pm and I could not believe that only an hour had passed since I was first given the tragic news, it seemed like a lifetime had passed. Our telephones had been down for more than two weeks, and I suddenly realised that my two other children and the rest of the family needed to be told. Not being able to phone, Noel said he would go to his house, tell my parents and then start to contact family and friends. My thoughts drifted to Natasha and Evonne. Fear gripped me just thinking of them travelling on the roads to get to us. What if something happened to them? They would try and get to Johannesburg as fast as they could and this worried me. Their concentration would not be good while travelling. Evonne and Gerrie only had a half hour trip from Pretoria, but Natasha and Martin had to come from Barberton and would be travelling at night. "Oh God," I prayed, "please be with them and bring them safely home." Evonne did not have a phone at home, but Noel would contact my younger brother Lenny and let them go over and tell her. Evonne was six months pregnant with her first child and I was concerned that the shock of Karen's death could have disastrous effects on her unborn baby. My heart cringed at the thought of our first grandchild on it's way. Karen had looked so forward to this baby and becoming a real aunt. She had already bought little odds and ends for the baby, and now .... she would never see it. "This cannot be happening" I kept thinking. "Maybe they've made a mistake ... maybe Karen took Tessa's car instead of her own little Charade. They often swapped cars. That must be it" I thought. "Someone will come soon and tell us it was Tessa in Karen's car." My thoughts were running wild, looking for any way to escape facing reality. "I'm going to leave now, Lyd" I heard Noel say. "Mom and Dad will be over soon. We'll come over later when I've contacted everyone." I vaguely remember thanking Noel as he left. Hennie, Marcell and I were now alone. Each one silent, wandering aimlessly around the flat, not knowing what to do or what to say. The afternoon sun was setting, dusk was falling - we had a long night ahead of us and I was so terribly afraid. The only sounds were muffled sobs as each one of us felt the loss of Karen sweeping over us.

Crushed to the Core

I vaguely remember trying to speak. My mouth was dry, my tongue felt thick and my breathing was shallow. Arms reached out as Noel and Colin supported me. We were standing in a large shopping mall just outside the restaurant. People were going about their every day duties and here I stood so totally alone amongst the crowds.

I wanted to scream at them – “How can you shop, how can you just walk around here? My child is dead, the world MUST stop, nothing will ever be the same again!” We made our way to the escalator ... curious stares were directed at me from passersby .... I was mumbling, eyes wide open and white as a sheet as I dragged my legs trying to carry this dead weight I felt hanging onto me. Strange though how wonderful the human mind is. Amidst all the confusion of those first few minutes your mind demandingly reminds you "what must be done".

"I don't even have money to bury her" I groaned. Both Noel and Colin said that was the least of my worries, they would assist me through the company. We finally reached Noels' car and they helped me in. This is not happening I kept on thinking. My heart was crying out in such agony "Karen, oh Karen. Please dear God, take this bitter cup from me, I cannot drink of this cup, I am too weak, I will not stand this test ... OH dear God help me!" I had severe difficulty in breathing and kept on gasping for air. Very gently Colin tried to reassure me ... "Lydia, we will be praying for you. Remember although we do not understand, put your trust in the Lord, He alone can help you." Someone answered "I know, I know". It must have been me, it sounded like my voice. Already extreme shock had set into my numb body.

All the way home Noel comfortingly held my hand and tried in his own way to let me know I was not alone.

Suddenly my mind was being flooded with questions. "What happened?" ..... "I don't have all the details yet, only that Karen was turning at a robot and was hit by an oncoming car" Noel answered.

"Was she badly hurt .... did she suffer?" ..... "I don't know."

"Where is Karen?" ..... "They've taken her to the Johannesburg morgue."

"What time did it happen?" ..... "At 1pm" Noel patiently answered. A quick glance at my watch told me it was 3.30pm. My mind was in a turmoil, I couldn't think straight and I was still struggling to breathe. My daughter had died two and a half hours ago and I had only just found out. I was devastated, crushed into millions of pieces and every fibre in my body cried out in anguish... "My baby, my precious child, my daughter, my youngest, my best friend ... gone, taken away forever. Oh God, this cup gets more bitter with every passing second, please let it pass, I have not the strength to lift it and drink".