Wednesday, August 17, 2011

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.

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