What the Heck?
January, 2002
Kendall’s birthday party ended on a somber note. After she made her birthday wish and blew out the candles, her eyes slowly scanned the room. We all knew she was looking for Craig. If it wasn’t for Barbara’s awkward timing of popping in to surprise Kendall with her very own big girl crochet starter kit, everyone would’ve burst into tears. While loading Kendall’s presents into my car, my work friends and my best friends, who were more than excited about finally meeting, talked about a girl’s night out to get to know each other better. The idea of it gave me the heeby jeebies, and I said I’d get back to them with a convenient date…which will be NEVER! Work has always been, and always will be, my refuge from all of the shit I stir up outside of it, and I feel an intense need to keep it that way.
After the birthday party, I needed to go to Kendall’s house to pick up more of her stuff so I asked Kurt to take her back to my cottage to play with her and all of her new toys. It was our first joint effort task in caring for her and despite his animosity toward me, there was none detected from him in Kendall’s presence.
I barely packed anything in Kendall’s Barbie suitcase that first day I brought her to the cottage. I was completely oblivious to anything other than the news I had to tell her. But now that the news has been delivered and life is trying to resume, more clothes, toys, and Barney videos are required to make life manageable. Quite frankly, I’m totally blown away with how much stuff it takes to get a kid through the day. In fact, I’ve only had Kendall with me for twenty-two days and already I’ve ceased saying, “must be nice to be you” whenever I see a mother pushing a stroller. I now realize there’s a helluva lot more going on in that woman’s day than rolling that thing along. I’m definitely starting to think there’s a lot of taksies-backsies in my future with regards to this motherhood business.
Kendall’s definitely been struggling since she lost her daddy. She has some good days, but most are bad. There’s a lot of crying and long periods of time where she just sits and stares out of the window at the creek. My solution is to sit and cry with her. Heck, Lord knows I’m a pro at that, right? When we’re done crying, we talk…mostly about what Heaven is like. My visions of turquoise unicorns, angels with cotton candy wings, and rivers flowing with chocolate milk soothe her aching heart. And I have to admit, they soothe mine too. When we’re done talking we write Craig letters and draw him pictures that we hang all over the cottage. We bake him cookies (the kind that come in a container that you just pop open, of course) and then eat them all up because I tell her that’s what he’d want us to do. Tending to Kendall leaves very little time for all of the things I used to do, like go for a run, get my nails done, wax unwanted hair off of my body, read my own books or bust out my wonder wand. And what’s weird is that I don’t mind at all. However, what I do mind is all of that stuff makes me more tired than I’ve ever been in my life. Usually, just after Kendall falls asleep, I doze off myself. Oftentimes without making a goodnight call to Leo.
Kurt’s been diligent about keeping his commitment to attend the sessions with the child psychologist. He has asked meaningful questions and requested guidance on so many of the choices we’ll have to make on Kendall’s behalf. I’ve been more than impressed with his thoughtfulness, and I was proud of him when he bowed out of the last two sessions for fear of scaring Kendall with the cuts and bruises he got from the fight. We’ve actually had a very amicable relationship in dealing with her, but after his threatening words today at the birthday party about wanting more custody than me, I’m on edge. I just hope I can keep my composure in check until we meet with the attorney next month.
My car is unusually quiet. No Kendall and no radio, just my thoughts. This will be the first time I’ve been back to the house in Freakmont since the memorial and I’m uneasy about going inside. The house was eerie enough for the short time I was there for Craig’s disastrous memorial; I get shivers thinking about what it’s going to feel like now. I pick up my cell phone to call Leo. He has a way of making me feel safe…like everything in my life is going to work out perfectly. But, before I even finish dialing, I hang up. I just remembered he made me feel those things before all of this custody business. Now he’ll probably just ask where Kendall is and then I’ll be forced to say Kurt’s name out loud. He’s still trying to “dig deep” and be okay with this set-up, and saying Kurt’s name definitely won’t help with the digging. Under normal circumstances, like picking up Kendall’s Puffalumpa at Kurt’s house or going for a cup of coffee with him while Leo was in New York after 9/11, I’d know how to deal with this. I’d simply omit a few key pieces of information, like Kurt’s name, and quickly move past the subject. But these aren’t normal circumstances. A little girl’s happiness is at stake and her happiness is dependent on one hundred percent sincerity between me, him, and Kurt. There cannot be an ounce of resentment between any of us or she’ll suffer, which is ironic, because sparing a child from resentment was another reason why I divorced Kurt. Yet, here we are. Right now, since I assume Kurt is one of her legal guardians, I have to focus on easing the resentment he feels about my engagement. I never thought I’d say this, but I can’t deal with making this sticky situation better for Leo. I’m struggling with trying to deal with the stickiness of it myself.
I park my car in the driveway and warily make my way to the front door. I feel guilty, apologetic actually, for being here. It’s so, so wrong that Craig and Kelly don’t get to raise their little girl. I put my key in the door, close my eyes and push it open. It’s cold and dark, and all I can hear is the soft hum of the refrigerator. Turning the lights on, the first thing I notice is the pictures on the wall…the ones that broke during Kurt and Leo’s fight. They’re all re-framed, clean, and hanging just where they’re supposed to be. Had to have been Kurt.
On my way to grab Kendall’s gear, I pass Kelly and Craig’s room. I’ve already been through Kelly’s stuff, once at her own memorial and again when I helped Craig pack up her belongings after she died. But, I’ve never been through Craig’s stuff. Why would I have? But, maybe I should poke through now. Maybe there’s something of value that I should put in the safety deposit box with Kelly’s jewelry. One by one, I open the dresser drawers. Just the usual…socks, underwear, t-shirts, nothing out of the ordinary. Thank God, because how weird would that be if I found a big stack of condoms or a bunch of porn?
I make my way over to the nightstand and notice Craig’s wedding ring. I carefully pick it up and read the inscription on the inside: My first. My only. And I’m reminded of just how young Craig and Kelly were when they met. I gently place the ring in my pocket for safe keeping and then open the top drawer…Just some reading material, ear plugs, chapstick, and loose change. I swipe my hand along the back of the drawer to scoot the materials toward the front, and that’s when I get a paper cut. I reach back in and carefully remove an envelope. Once I get it out, I’m surprised to see my name on it.
“What the heck?”
I pull the papers from inside and immediately sit myself on the bed when I see the handwriting.
Chrissy,
If you have this letter in your hand it means one of two things. Either Craig is dead or he lost his friggin’ marbles and is no longer capable of taking care of Kendall. I know the man misses me, but I bet my entire estate he was able to keep his shit together and take care of our baby girl. So, if you’re reading this, I’m pretty sure he’s gone. It’s hard for me to imagine how or why Craig would be dead, but it’s even harder for me to imagine a life for Kendall without either one of us, and I pray to God you never have to read this letter. But, if you are…be prepared because your life is about to get really chaotic.
I flip the envelope over and see Craig’s handwritten words, FOR ATTORNEY. He must’ve forgotten to give this letter to him. Or…he was damn sure nothing would ever happen to him and shoved it in this drawer. After a deep breath, I read on.
As you recall, when Craig and I asked you and Kurt to be Kendall’s Godparents, we also made you guys her legal guardians, and guardians of our estate should something ever happen to us. But, since you and Kurt are heading toward divorce, (and it doesn’t look like you’re going to reconcile) it leaves me and Craig with a lot of decisions to make in a very short period of time. According to the doctors, I only have a few months to live and since Craig is a wreck right now, he left the decision up to me what to do with Kendall if something should happen to him. So, here it is: You will be named the sole legal guardian of Kendall.
“Oh...my…God.”
But, and this is VERY important, Kurt will be granted visitation. Kendall has to have a father figure in her life. Trust me, I’ve watched enough Dateline and 20/20 to know that girls who don’t have a positive male role model in their life end up dead in ditches and other messed up stuff like that. Yes, it would make your life easier if I didn’t set things up this way, but for once, this isn’t about you. You’re just going to have to deal with it and work out the dynamics of this relationship. My only requirements are as follows:
1) Until Kendall turns eighteen, she has to stay with you from at least Sunday night until Friday morning. Consistency is important.
2) I don’t want Kendall to be left alone with any man unless you are 100% sure you’re going to marry him. Same rule applies to Kurt. (Between you and me, I sure as hell hope he doesn’t end up with that Kayla chick. Craig has NOT said great things.)
Believe it or not, that’s it. It would be silly of me to think I could control your lives beyond those two requests. As far as our estate goes, the will has also been changed to make you the sole executor of that as well.
This information has me on my feet and pacing the room.
Since Kendall will be with you a majority of the time, it makes sense that you manage the finances. Sell the house and the cars and keep everything else in a storage facility. When Kendall’s old enough, she can decide what to do with everything. By the way, you wouldn’t know it because Craig and I chose to remain in Fremont and live a very frugal lifestyle, but when my Dad died, he left me two million dollars.
“Ho-ly crap.”
Our lawyer will give you all of the details. But, Chrissy, if one dollar of that money is spent on highlights for your hair, you better believe you’re going straight to hell. However, since I love you and want nothing more for you and Kendall to be as close as I could’ve been with her, the estate will pay for one pedicure a month for the both of you and one seven day vacation a year. Girl bonding time is important. My best friends taught me that.
“You taught me that too, my friend.”
Okay…I guess since you’re reading this letter, it’s time you finally knew why I never had time to join you on my front porch. Put the letter down and open my closet.
I place the letter on the bed, walk to the closet, and cautiously open it like she’s in there waiting for me. Of course she’s not. But, what’s there is almost as shocking. Not taking my eyes off of what I’m looking at, I walk backward to the letter.
Each video represents a year of Kendall’s life that I’ll be missing. As of today, I’m at her sixteenth year. Yep, when I get done with this letter I’m heading out to my car to videotape myself in the driver’s seat. I’ll die all over again if I know my child is operating a vehicle the same way we did when we were teenagers. My head spins with worry just thinking about not being there to keep an eye on every move she makes. I know I won’t be, but with these videos I can show her how much I wanted to be and how good of a mother I would’ve been. I made these videos for Craig, but since you’re reading this letter, they’re yours now. I need you to promise that you’ll watch each and every one and implement my lessons, my ideals…my love. Kendall can start viewing them when you think she’s old enough to handle it. I know this is an unexpected list with staggering expectations, but say you’ll promise, right now.
Looking back up at the videos I let out a nervous, “I promise.”
Good girl. Now…Since I know you better than you know yourself, your mind is screaming, “WHY ME?” Okay, one…get over yourself! Sometimes shit just happens. Look at what’s going on with me. And, two…through the confusing events of the last few years of your life, you showed me that the difference between doing something and doing nothing is everything. I wanted to give up the minute those doctors told me I was going to die. But, I mustered up the courage to make these videos for Kendall. By putting my anger and helplessness aside, I hope that doing something will, in the end, mean everything to my daughter. Make good choices for her. I trust you. K.
Slowly I rise and walk toward the closet, pondering everything I just read. Not once since Craig died have I asked myself, “Why me?” In fact, the only thought going through my mind has been, “It can only be me.” From the moment Kurt dropped to his knees and told me Craig was dead, I’ve been prepared to take care of Kendall. But as I now glide my fingers across the videos, I worry that I will never be prepared to watch my best friend deteriorate before my very eyes.