Banner designed with love by Abby Goutal, owner of Manon's Garden

It Happened Again!

No matter where I go, I see them.

Written by Connie Small, 13th April 2001.

Every time I have to tell someone about Cassy's death, it's like going through "that" day all over. I can't step foot out of my home without running into one of two people.

The first one is the person who knew Cassy died, but this is the first time I've seen them since. I'll see them coming towards me in the store. Their face is relaxed. Maybe they're thinking of what's next on their grocery list. Maybe they're thinking of the movie they saw last night. Maybe they just had a conversation with a friend and there's a smile on their face. Then, they see me. The change in their face is unmistakable. I can almost hear their thoughts. "Oh no, it's Connie and I haven't seen her since Cassy died. What am I going to say? Oh, why didn't I stay in the produce aisle a few seconds longer!" I see the discomfort on their face. Their whole posture stiffens. We meet. Each time, it's the same song, same dance, just a different partner. I hear any or all of these.

"I'm so sorry!"
(Insert heartfelt hug.)
"How have you been?"
"I couldn't believe it when I read it in the paper!"
"I can't imagine what you're going through."
(Insert tear filled eyes.)
"I couldn't do it."
"I don't know what I'd do if I lost one of my kids."

Maybe they'll walk away, thinking of their family. Maybe they'll be a little more grateful for their children and hug them a little more. Maybe they'll think of how lucky they are to not be me. To not be in my shoes. Maybe, just maybe.

The hardest people for me to meet though, are the ones who don't know. The ones I hardly ever see. The casual acquaintances. The ones whose faces light up when they see a friend they haven't seen for a long time. The ones who give me a big smile and a big hug because they're so glad to see me. The ones whose conversations start out like this.

"Hi!!! It's been ages!"
(Insert big, so-glad-to-see-you hug)
Hi, Sheila. Yes, it's been a long time.
"How are you??"
I'm holding up. How have you been?
"Oh, I've done this and that. I've been here and there. I was horribly sick with the other. How are you?"
Taking it one day at a time.
"Oh, have you been sick too?"

My heart sinks. They don't realize what's happened. And now, I have to tell them. I have to re-live that horrible day when my world changed forever. Again, I hear the same words.

"I'm so sorry!"
" How did it happen?"
"I can't imagine what you're going through."
(Insert tear filled eyes.)
"I couldn't do it."
"I don't know what I'd do if I lost one of my kids."

Maybe they'll walk away, thinking of their family. Maybe they'll be a little more grateful for their children and hug them a little more. Maybe they'll think of how lucky they are to not be me. To not be in my shoes. Maybe, just maybe.