365 Days

What started as just another day in Shreveport changed drastically at 8:45 am (for me).

7:30 am it when it really changed, but the first thing I saw was at 8:45 on Facebook. That's when the calls from Shreveport to Wichita started, no answer just his voice message (some have told me it sounded just like mine, the apple didn't fall far apparently) then a text message at 9:09 am "call me!"  The call's to the neighbor that lived across the street, the call to the youngest asking if she had talked to her brother, what car was her mom driving, "no you are not driving to the accident to see" the call to the girlfriend, then the daughter again....(a dad just knows), throw clothes in a suitcase, grab stuff that you would never pack, load up the car and start driving north by 10:00, without knowing a thing. All because of one picture that was on Facebook. (I have that picture, it brings back a ton of anger, and this is not the place or the time to share it)

The rest of the day was a blur on the drive back to Wichita, calls back and forth to the youngest, calls to the son in laws telling them what I needed them to do, someone drive to pick up Vickie, go to Wesley and pick up the oldest, calls to the Highway Patrol that went un-returned, cancel all of my travel plans I asked, can you call my clients here are the numbers.  And then somewhere around Paris Texas at 11:41 am the call came in from my Cousin Sharron, "Kurt, this is Sharron, the Highway Patrol is trying to reach you"

That was the first real "notice" I received.  I can honestly say that I have no clue what happened from the time I made the turn at Paris until I got to Oklahoma City.

What do you do?  My "Dad/Male" brain kicked into high gear, plan a service, what happened, I need to go see his car, where do I find an urn (John was the one to call, he knew Nic's bike and he would be there), Where do we have a service, he wasn't a church'ie kind of kid so the Church that I went to as a kid wouldn't work, so many questions and no answers in those first few hours.

The texts's and Facebook posts started flying in, I didn't remember them all, but I knew there were people out there that were concerned.  (Over the past week I've gone back thru them, reread them and gotten a lot of peace from them, so thank you again)

Pull into the driveway of the youngest where everyone was sitting in the garage in a state of shock and numbness.  I'd stopped when I got to Wichita, bought a bottle of Makers Mark to toast my son, and then Cal showed up with BBQ "Kurt I hope you don't mind, but it's just something I needed to do", Aidan was impressed that Cal was an attorney and decided that he (Cal) should know more about the Constitution, Abraham Lincoln, and any other part of Presidential history you can think of.

Try to shut the brain off was not going to happen, nothing worked, it was just try to get some sleep, rest the mind because it was going to be a long week ahead.

Looking back, while I'm stilled pissed off at the news media and their fight to get the most sensationalism that they can by posting pictures of accidents (believe me, we know who's driving cars that are close to us, and where they should be) I'm actually happy that "I" was the one to be able to tell my family, rather than some Trooper that shows up to the door with the words "are you ______, I regret to inform you that _____".

Don't get me wrong, the Trooper finally did show up late in the afternoon or early evening, I can't remember, and they were upset that my oldest already knew, she being the OR Nurse had called and asked, and was told, yes we have your brother. I can't tell you how proud I am of my son in laws for stepping up that day, they didn't sign on for what they had to do.  Tell their wives, tell their mother in law, stand firm and give as much comfort as they could, until the "patriarch" arrived.

 That kid was my world, no bad memories fill my head (and my brain is a collection tool), him riding bitch with me when he was younger, wearing sweat pants over jeans because he wasn't going to look like all the other bikers in leather, the cars he had, being my own "personal" mechanic, his first Harley and no riding on the highway until you have 200 miles on backroads (who knew he'd do that in one day, countless trips around Lake Afton), the second Harley (hey mom, I was able to keep up with dad pretty easy at 110 on the turnpike) and the third one that he got from Scott, he loved that bike and ultimately would name his daughter after it.  "Hey dad, you remember when I sold my Harley and I told you I'd have another one, well that's what her name is going to be"

Planking in Shreveport, gambling in the restaurant (he sucked by the way), the Cajun food that "gave me the squirts dad, can we just have normal food", just watching him sit in the chair at Christmas watching that little girl open her presents, taking it all in, the homeless people he helped, and the last time we had a drink together at Morts and then dinner with the girls afterwards.  That ONE last picture of all of us, that image will be forever burned into my brain.

 I miss that kid and his "kid" is more and more like him everyday.  Someone asked me the other day if today was the end of the "firsts", yes it is, but now the firsts start all over again. Things that he will miss (earthly miss, since I know he's here everyday, I feel him and he let's every one of us know) her first day of school, her first dance, her first date (when she's 30), graduation, who walks her down the aisle, that first grandchild that is his.

Not to worry, I'll be doing my very best to fill in and be around long enough to take care of those things for you.

Today's a hard one, 7:30 on the spot my eyes were filled with tears, I had planned on putting flowers at the spot at precicesly that time, but something said to wait, (it was my own way of "being there" for him, since I wasn't 365 days ago), His favorite restaurant for lunch today with the girls and grandkids, then a tour of his spots in Wichita that he "stenciled", a little gathering at the Palisade Palace, then off for some alone time with him at Cheney and a toast after the ball games.  Will it be any easier tomorrow, or the next day, or the next day? Nah, just softer.

Thank you everyone who has been there this past year to listen to me rant, tell you how pissed off I am about what happened, watched me cry, gave me a hug or just "was there", whether you were near or far, it meant and still means the world to me.

Love every one of you.  Now you're going to have to indulge me while I put a few "MORE" of my favorites up.

One last thing, and yes I am the BOSS of YOU!

GO HUG YOUR KIDS, TELL THEM YOU LOVE THEM, 

YOU NEVER KNOW WHAT TOMORROW BRINGS.