That Knock on the Door

I am not certain why I feel today is the day I need to tell the story of the night they came to tell us of the accident.  Maybe it's because I either dreamt about it last night, or imagined another knock on the door like that one, and have spent too much of the day reliving it.  Maybe it's because I need to write it down and write it out.  I hope this works.

Kelci, June 2012, Lake Tahoe, NV

July 24, 2012.  By all accounts, a normal day.  As I was leaving for work, Toby, one of the beagles, began to bark hysterically because a woman walked past our house with her two extraordinarily large dogs.  The other dogs, Barney, the other beagle, and Lucky, the Chihuahua, chimed in. The chorus of frenzied, barking, howling dogs woke Kelci up.

I felt really bad, because on her days off she liked to sleep in. She came down and I said, "I'm really sorry about that." 

I thought she'd be upset, but she was pleasant, and said "It's OK, I wanted to get up early.  What were they barking about anyway?"

"Someone walked by with two giant dogs, and I think Toby thought they were bears."

She giggled at this, and it made me smile.  Then we had a short pleasant conversation, and as was always the case when we parted, we both said, "I love you."

That was the last thing I ever said to her, and the last time I would ever see her.

Sometime around 10 pm I went to bed. I hadn't heard from Kelci all day, but that was typical on her day off. I knew she had planned to go swimming, and I assumed she'd be hope in a little bit. 

I drifted off and was woken up by booming knocks on our front door.  Looking back, it was the worst noise I have ever heard in my life.  That's when time stopped.

I remember feeling panic.  I knew instinctively that something was wrong, but even then I didn't expect it to be what it was.

The dogs were barking hysterically.  Ray got up too, and  we both went to the living room to find out who was at the door.  I think he answered the door.  I remember seeing three men.  Two were in uniform.  My first thought was she's in trouble.  I didn't know what kind of trouble, but I never expected them to say what they said next.

It's all very hazy here.  I know they came inside, and I just remember hearing, "She's gone." 

This new world of ours is all quite a blur.

I started to shake uncontrollably.  I think everything went blank.  I must have walked across the room because I was standing looking down at the white couch, my arms bracing me from falling.  My legs were shaking so bad I could hardly stand.

I turned around when I heard Ray say, "No, she's at work.  She'll be home soon."  They were telling us where the accident happened, and Ray was insisting it could not be her because she was not there.

I said, "No.  She went swimming."  I knew it was her, I didn't have to hear that it was a little white car, a Subaru. 

I don't really have much recall on what all happened then.  I remember Brian, my son, being there.  I'm not sure when he came upstairs.  The look on his face told me he heard.  The dogs were still barking hysterically, locked in the bedroom.

I remember asking the three men, two state police officers and the coroner, their names, because it was important. They tried to tell me Trooper so-and-so, but I said no, "What is your first name?" Daniel, he was the coroner,  Patrick, and Tom. I might always remember those names.   I kept saying them over and over. Daniel. Partick. Tom.  I told them how sorry I was that they had to do this, to tell us this. I genuinely felt bad for them. It's an awful job.

I remember taking Kelci's picture off the wall and just holding it, and asking the three men,  what I needed to do, and being told "just be with your family.  There is nothing you need to do."

I asked them over and over, and even tried to write it down, but there was nothing to write down.  Be with your family, there is nothing you can do.  Nothing.  There has to be something I can do. But, there was nothing I could do...

I don't remember them leaving. I remember Ray, Brian and I were left there, screaming, crying, wondering what to do.

Before they left, I did tell them I had to find Michelle.  I knew I had to find Michelle.  I knew I had to be the one to tell her.  I couldn't imagine her finding out from anyone else.  You have to find Michelle.  It took me hours to do that, several agonizing, excruciating hours.  There were moments in those hours that I was so scared something had happened to her too. 

My life ended the second I heard those booming knocks on the door.  My different life, my life without Kelci here, began as we tried to figure out what we needed to do.  The worst day of both my lives, July 24, 2012, began with that knock on the door.