Tuesday, April 05, 2005

Seriously...is this real?

So the last day or two my mind has not only been on Laurie. Instead it's been mostly on sports...which is the Drew Brown many of you know. Illinois lost the championship game which majorly sucks. I know in the big picture it means very little, but I thought this was the year they'd avenge the '89 Final Four loss to Michigan that made me cry. They fell just short. SUCK! I was also fixated on the Cubs' first game and how they'd perform. They cranked out 16 runs on 23 hits. Not too shabby.

But then I looked at Laurie's website and felt really sad again. Something about seeing her pictures right now just hurts me. It's harder now than it has been. I've blogged about this before, but right now I'm just sad and hurting. There's been a few moments over the past couple weeks that have just hit me very hard.

Those moments were...

//Seeing the letter. For a while I had known a lot of the stuff that was in there mostly from what Greg and Katie had told me. But when Pete and Barb got the letter and I actually saw the words written in Laurie's handwriting, it messed me up. It was the same handwriting that had written me some of the most loving and encouraging words anyone has ever said to me. The realism of everything really started to sink in.

//Barb asked me if I wanted to spread some of Laurie's ashes. I still feel so honored by that. I asked her what the ashes felt like...if they were like fireplace ashes or if they felt different. So she opened the box and actually showed me the ashes. I was expecting to not feel much of anything. They're ashes. I've seen ashes before. But again, it was very emotional for me and hit me a lot harder than I was expecting. It didnt feel like I was looking at ashes. In a very odd way that I can't really describe, it looked like Laurie. I know that doesn't make sense. Again, I felt like I reached a whole new level of accepting the realism of it.

//Seeing Laurie's Jeep in Pete and Barb's garage and remembering how excited she was when she got it. As I said in an earlier post, she couldn't wait to drive it downtown for the June 7 Cubs game we went to. She had talked for a long time about how much she loved Jeeps, and she finally got one. She was elated! Now when I look at it, it's just a stupid piece of metal that evokes a lot of sadness out of me.

//Finally, going down to the lake with Katie. Again, I don't really want to share a lot of these thoughts on here. I'm glad I went, but it was horrible.

Experiencing those 4 things over the past couple weeks has taken a lot out of me.

I don't want this to be real anymore. I want to wake up tomorrow morning and have everything back to normal. I want to get back to blogging about films. I want to be able to call Laurie's cell and when she answers hear her obnoxiously mimic the national anthem ringtone she set for when I called. I want to be able to talk to her about the Cubs 16-6 win today. I've gone through a month of the hardest emotions I've ever had to deal with. I'm ready to be told that this is all just a nightmare and that everything will be fine once I wake up...

So can anyone tell me that?

Anyone?

Bueller?

Damn.

3 Comments:

Blogger Eve said...

If I say it...does it make it real? To say that it isn't... More often than not it is not a reality in my mind.
Once again. I love you Drew Brown.

April 05, 2005 3:14 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Drew, This is Barb's sister Gail. Man, I read your letter and just sobbed all the way through. This whole thing is just to hard to believe and I hate it. I have called her cell phone about 3 times just to hear her sweet voice. Why Laurie? The Cubs are doing good. Oh wait...Maybe Laurie is their Angel in the outfield. Just a thought.

April 06, 2005 1:08 AM  
Anonymous Jesse Stellwagon said...

I wish it was a dream to...she was a very special person, and now that she's gone it does hurt. We all may never get over her death, but the pain will help us remember all that she was. I'll be praying for you, take care, and God Bless.

April 06, 2005 1:26 AM  

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