"The pains the same, but the tears are less."
I heard this quote last week watching something on television. It struck a chord with me. It sums up the death of Leslie so accurately. It has been over 14 years since she died, 14 years. I remember each moment like it was yesterday. I remember the phone call from my mom sharing with me that Leslie had been in a car accident. I remember talking to my family in Texas every day while she was in the hospital. I remember every single second of the day she died: What I was wearing. What I ate for breakfast. What errands I ran.
I had gone to the Union at IU to get a CD to get the internet to work on my computer (it was 2000, technology was a little more complicated back then!). When I got back to my dorm, my best friend and roommate, Courtney, was laying down but told me that both my parents had called. I stepped out to the hall to call my parents so I wouldn't bother her during her nap. I remember calling my dad's office and his secretary said he was in a meeting. I left a message to have him call me back and she said she could get him out of the meeting if I needed her to, looking back on this phone call I realize now that she knew Leslie had died, but I didn't, I just said it wasn't a big deal and hung up. I then called my mom's school, but they said she had left. That was definitely weird, but I knew she had been contemplating going to Texas to be with Kippi, so I just assumed that was why she wasn't there and was needing to get a hold of me to let me know her plans.
I knew in my heart that something wasn't right so I called the hospital number that I had been using to talk to the family and check in and that was the moment I learned of her death. Within seconds one of Leslie and Micki's friends told me she had died, and my world changed. I knew she wasn't well, but up until that moment I never actually believed she could die. I didn't even think it was a possibility and I actually don't think I ever thought that death would be the end result. I knew Leslie was in a bad place, but I also knew that she would be fine....then she wasn't and that was it. I was not in Texas to see her and to see how hurt she really was. I had no concept that there was no way she could have survived this accident. It was the most shocking moment of my life.
Everything from that moment on was a whirlwind. I remember getting off the phone and Courtney running into the hall, but all I wanted to do was take a shower (what?!?). I remember every second of that shower. I remember just standing there trying to wrap my head around what I was just told. I remember thinking about how this can't be right. What does this mean? How did this happen?
I remember my mom called while I was in the shower and talked to Courtney. My mom was so concerned, so scared, so empathetic, and was desperately trying to get to her sister.
So much happened in that one day and it was all surreal. I remember feeling like I was just floating through the day and was not actually in the real world. Everything went so fast. So many decisions had already been made and I was clueless. My dad booked me a flight with him for the next morning so I met him at the airport.
I remember a lot about that flight. My dad and I talked the whole time. I think it was good for him, but better for me. He shared a lot about his life; his mom, his dad, his aunt, brother...things I never knew. I was 18 and was just learning things about my dad's life, I remember that it made me feel selfish and I didn't want his stories to end.
It was a LONG day of traveling. We got a direct flight to Texas, but then had to drive to Hico. We rented a car (it was a maroon color...irrelevant) and drove for what felt like days. Nobody was in Hico when we got there (at least nobody that I wanted to see...Micki, mom, Cole, Kippi, Donna, Bebe, Danielle) so we just waited on the people that I needed to see to arrive. Again, it was such a long day.
I think about this day often. More often than I would like to think about it. Simply put, it was a bad day. I used to cry a lot. I would lay in bed every night and replay this day in my head and cry. The day that changed my simple world. It took years for me to not replay this event every single day. It then took years for me to not cry at the simple thought of Leslie. To say the pain is the same is accurate. The pain of missing her never goes away. The pain of not knowing what her life would have looked like never goes away, but the tears stop flowing. The tears dry up and the sadness remains. It helps to not think about it, and I love telling her stories, but it really only brings sadness for me.
I have never been able to sum up her death until I heard the words, "the pains the same, but the tears are less." It feels to good to write about that day. Death is mean. It rips your world apart and doesn't look back. It changes you and makes you questions all things you know. However, I always keep the good memories of Leslie in my pocket. Her life was never dull. She fills my heart with happiness and I love that she was a part of my world for a short 18 years.
