The Towel
I am not sure why, but I feel compelled to tell this story. I think I have already shared it, but for some reason it is heavy on my heart right now.
The day "it" happened...my husband and I were notified by phone. I didn't really believe it. I didn't believe the officer, I didn't believe Cassi's roommates who had found her, I just thought it was a terribly upsetting misunderstanding. It was February 2, 2014...a Sunday. People were telling me the most outrageous things. I had feared this for so many years, but I just couldn't believe it. At the hospital, in the basement, the Medical Examiner's office was closed, because it was Sunday. I was told Cassi was in the morgue, but I refused to believe it. I wanted to see, with my own eyes, that it was her and that she was really gone. Much drama and hysterics later, my family and friends finally convinced me to leave...they would not let me see her.
So I wanted to go to her apartment. Her roommates opened the door crying...I was still refusing to believe what they were telling me. I asked to see the exact spot where they had found her. They took me out the back door and to the edge of the patio. There was nothing there...I KNEW IT...Cassi had not shot herself, there was no blood...but then, I saw it, in the grass. Blood...still wet but coagulating. I screamed for a towel...and I just screamed. I fell to my knees, crying when someone handed me a white towel. I had to get the blood. I didn't know why, I just had to. I blotted it up, asked to see her room. Her room was familiar, all her things were there...again I started doubting she was gone. A couple of things caught my eye and told me what I didn't want to believe. A plastic bag with empty medication bottles and an open bottle of water...her purse...that did it...her purse should be with her.
I started believing it...but have yet to accept it...almost 2 months later.
I still have the towel. I don't know what to do with it. I can't throw it away. I put it in a drawer, out of site, but I know it's there...I hope someday I will figure it out. Why I needed it so badly...why I can't throw it away, but can't bear to look at it either.
This is such a weird journey.
The day "it" happened...my husband and I were notified by phone. I didn't really believe it. I didn't believe the officer, I didn't believe Cassi's roommates who had found her, I just thought it was a terribly upsetting misunderstanding. It was February 2, 2014...a Sunday. People were telling me the most outrageous things. I had feared this for so many years, but I just couldn't believe it. At the hospital, in the basement, the Medical Examiner's office was closed, because it was Sunday. I was told Cassi was in the morgue, but I refused to believe it. I wanted to see, with my own eyes, that it was her and that she was really gone. Much drama and hysterics later, my family and friends finally convinced me to leave...they would not let me see her.
So I wanted to go to her apartment. Her roommates opened the door crying...I was still refusing to believe what they were telling me. I asked to see the exact spot where they had found her. They took me out the back door and to the edge of the patio. There was nothing there...I KNEW IT...Cassi had not shot herself, there was no blood...but then, I saw it, in the grass. Blood...still wet but coagulating. I screamed for a towel...and I just screamed. I fell to my knees, crying when someone handed me a white towel. I had to get the blood. I didn't know why, I just had to. I blotted it up, asked to see her room. Her room was familiar, all her things were there...again I started doubting she was gone. A couple of things caught my eye and told me what I didn't want to believe. A plastic bag with empty medication bottles and an open bottle of water...her purse...that did it...her purse should be with her.
I started believing it...but have yet to accept it...almost 2 months later.
I still have the towel. I don't know what to do with it. I can't throw it away. I put it in a drawer, out of site, but I know it's there...I hope someday I will figure it out. Why I needed it so badly...why I can't throw it away, but can't bear to look at it either.
This is such a weird journey.
Replies
My son,aged 24,died in a car accident on 5th feb 2007.i still have the blood stained jacket he was wearing.ive tucked it away but its still there.i also have his wallet..with everything in it the way it was.
It will get better for you...but as they say..it has to get worse before it gets better.hugs.