I Packed Them Up

I was just scanning the pictures on my facebook and came across this one I posted 5-4-13, not even a month after Kaitlyn died. I wanted to post it here just because:

“Kaitlyn, I have just gone through the last few boxes of your things that I held out for putting them up in a sturdy box to keep forever. Among these things represented a huge part of your life. Kaitlyn, in this collection I kept the T-shirt you had from high school from the play Fiddler on the Roof. I kept a t-shirt that had “Class of 2008” on the front and “Done” on the back. I kept your Campbell University Cap and tassel. There’s the card listing sequence of events on the White Coat Ceremony with your name with all the other class of 2015 Medical Students. There’s your dissection kit, your kit with all the doctor assessment things in it such as an eye chart, and all sorts of things of that nature. I took your Medical Student ID tag and attached it to your white medical coat where in now hangs in the spare room closet, so now it’s complete along with the note pads in one pocket and your Littman III stethoscope in your other pocket, just like you left it. I kept all the T-shirts of the runs that you were in; the half marathon and the marathon that you so proudly entered and finished, along with your number tags that you wore on your shirt and the medals that you proudly had for participating in these runs. Kaitlyn, I kept your little makeup fold up carrier and lipstick that you had. I wrapped it up in a ziplock plastic bag so nothing would ever melt and run out of there. It was so personal, I had to keep it though you wore makeup at a minimal, and just enough. I kept a little hair clasp that you kept your hair pulled back when you ran.

With all these things, I so carefully folded and placed them in a sturdy plastic box and then I placed your Wake Forest School of Medicine book bag over the top, sealed it up and put it away in our spare room. I took some of your favorite necklaces and bracelets and put them away in the box that looked like a book that sits on the table that was yours and now sits in my living room. Also the book’s contents have your passport that you used to go to Canada and Africa and had planned on going to many other countries in your life. It now lies dormant. I also put 2 of your watches in there.

I took your few clothes that you still had not washed that were in your clothes basket, that I didn’t have the heart to wash, and put them away, never ever to be washed because they have your scent. The scent is not a dirty scent because you never smelled dirty in your life; they just have your sweet scent and I can’t wash them away.

So, that pretty much ends the assorting of all your things except for a few more things to give to your sister Stephanie and a picture for Ian McPherson, that was beautifully framed with you and him in it that I will give him next week. You had this on the wall in your apartment, you were very good friends.

Your ipod and your cell phone now also lie in the drawer of your table. I know these things you handled so much that some of your spirit is in them.

All of these things are not just things to me. They represent the wonderful experiences you had in your life. For Kaitlyn, even though you said you were sad all your life in your letter, I know you had happiness and reached for the stars, caught many of them, and could have had them all.

The pain of a mother’s grief over a child, and one that was so special to her, is a pain that they have not come up with a name for yet because there’s no word that can capture such agony. You left a hole in my heart and soul that only you could ever fill. But I know you didn’t mean to hurt those you love, you were just too tired of the sadness to fight on.

I do know one thing for sure, I loved you as much as a human can possibly love another person, and I know you knew this for a fact, because I told you, and I told you often.