My dad has always thought of himself as a rebel. How he managed to keep that idea through the sixties, where he didn’t grow out his hair or take drugs, lived at home, and graduated from college with a degree in geophysics; through the seventies, where he married a year out of college, had two kids by the end of the decade, wore a tie every day to his work at the oil company, and, most tellingly, sold his butter-yellow Spitfire to buy a powder-blue station wagon; through the eighties, when he built a large home, served as a Scoutmaster, and was still wearing a tie; through the nineties, where he moved back to Utah, celebrated capitalism, attended Beach Boys concerts, and refused to let my brothers pierce their ears; and through the 00’s, when he gained ten grandchildren, threw a fit over his daughter dating someone of a different race, and made fun of the Peace Corps, I’ll never understand.
He did vote for Ross Perot. But only once.
Maybe it wasn’t matter of being a rebel, but instead feeling like he never quite, completely fit in. He grew up in Utah, Salt Lake City, as the fifth generation of descendents of the pioneers. His parents, my grandparents, were Mormon to the core, and my geeky, over-intellectualizing dad rejected his parents’ church, refused to go on a mission, and replaced the scriptures with Machiavelli and Nietzsche by the time he was sixteen. He stayed in college to avoid going to Vietnam, and the war was over before his lottery number came up. Since a physics degree wouldn’t allow him to easily do anything but go to graduate school, he added a few geology classes and moved to Houston to start twenty years of working for the oil companies. There, he met my mother.
My mom
My mother was working as a bookkeeper. Since graduating from high school, she’d been through one engagement, two cities, three colleges, four semesters of classes, and five majors. She was a cheerleader in high school, and social butterfly as an adult.
My mom was engaged when she was twenty to a local boy who planned on becoming a police officer. They didn’t get married, and as for the reason why, my mother told me the following story when I was about 16. (Disclaimer: She was talking to her teenage daughter. I wonder if the story would change if I could ask her now?)
She and Bobby (the fiancé) were to be married in six months. He wanted to sleep with her then, but my mom refused to have sex before getting married. He had the great idea to work off his frustrations with a willing girl so she could wait. My mom agreed. Unsurprisingly, he broke off their engagement and married the other girl. Broke her heart, but if it hadn’t have happened, she wouldn’t have married my dad.
She and my dad met at a party at their apartment complex. My mother was perfectly suited to pulling my dad out of his social awkwardness, and he treated her like gold. After my mom took him home for dinner with her parents one night, my grandparents refused to give an opinion for fear she’d automatically reject someone they liked so much. They were right; she would have. They kept their mouths shut, and my parents were married a year later.
They had a society wedding. There are pictures of them in front of the big Baptist church downtown, flanked by seven uncomfortable ushers and seven parasol-toting bridesmaids. There was an open bar at the reception, and there my dad’s parents met my mom and her family for the first time. My grandmother cried all the way home.
Become my parents
My great-grandfather, my mother’s grandfather, was staunchly Catholic, and my great-grandmother was enthusiastically Methodist. They raised my grandpa as a mix of the two, and he promptly rejected both. When my parents were married, my mother told my dad that she’d look into his church, but if she didn’t like it, he’d have to join hers. He agreed. After they’d been married a year, my mom called the missionaries, loved everything she heard, and joined the church. She gave up smoking, drinking, iced tea, and went to church by herself. My dad stayed home and watched football on Sundays.
I’ve asked him about this since, mostly wondering what the heck he was thinking. She went by herself?? He looked embarrassed, laughed a little, and then said he trusted my mother. It wasn’t a bad bet.
One year later, their first baby died due to complications during delivery. One week after my brother died, my dad’s only sister died of lupus at age 21. My mom was still too sick to go to her funeral, so my dad flew to Utah alone, accompanied by a small white coffin. The aunt and the nephew were buried side by side in plots my grandparents had bought for themselves.
When my mother recovered physically, my parents crept softly down to Mexico, where they’d had their honeymoon. In a bar/restaurant in Acapulco, my mother sat with a sigh and my dad headed for the bar to get himself a beer.
“Janeen, do you want something?”
My mom lifted her tired, sad eyes and asked for a margarita. My dad looked at her quietly for a moment, took her hand, and led her out of the bar. They talked on the beach for an hour. When they went back to Texas, my dad went to back to church.
My mother told me the above story. My brothers don’t know it, although I shared it with the youngest one. I asked her why they did that, why Dad went back to church. She told me about some friends of theirs that had their own baby die around the same time my brother died, and those friends divorced shortly after. Some people pull together and fix things in their life to match their ideals, and other people pull away from the pain and shrink away from each other.
Childhood
I grew up in a manner unusual for my surroundings but typical for Hatrack: lots of books, chronic underachieving, and a very secure home. We lived on an acre and a half on the edge of a rich oil town in West Texas, and I spent my childhood following my mother around as she did Relief Society president work for the ward and the stake. The only girl with three brothers, I was a bit of a princess. I generally had only one friend at a time, but it was all I wanted. My family was happy enough and I enjoyed being by myself enough that one best friend was all I needed. Group dynamics remained an avoidable mystery.
When I was 13, we moved to Houston, where for the next three years I wore all black, read lots of Edgar Allen Poe, and worried my mother. After three years in Houston, my dad quit the oil industry, gathered the family and the savings, and went into business with his brother in Utah. We moved a year earlier than planned, without an extra year of saving and before my mom could finish her degree, because my mother was worried about me. My surroundings changed from a yuppie Houston suburb to 97% Mormon Farmington, Utah.
Almost an adult
When my family had moved from Midland to Houston, my friend Jenny’s family had moved from Midland to Utah, and our new house in Utah was in the town right next to her. Jenny and I remade friends, and we became inseparable.
Jenny and I became friends with My Boys from High School the year after high school was over. The madrigals, the elite singing group, have Lover’s Feast every year to raise money. The Lover’s Feast I finally attended had as a tableau a sword fight between a couple of dashing knaves, their squires, and a medieval bouncer who came to break them up. We liked them instantly.
All five guys had grown up together on the same street, and they stayed friends. One fighter was my Library Buddy, and Sam, the other fighter, was their natural leader. They lived at home to work before their missions, and Jenny and I went to separate colleges, but going home meant hanging out with my Boys. After they all left on their missions, I missed them terribly. I didn’t know what that meant. That summer, I had a dream where I talked to Sam for over an hour. When I woke up, I was happy and thrilled and didn’t miss my friend for almost a week.
----------
I’d never planned on going on a mission. I didn’t plan on getting married at 21 either, so I’m not sure what I thought I would be doing. I did have a horror of turning into my Young Women leaders, all of whom went to BYU, married after their sophomore year, and fell into a stiff, passive mold with stiff hair and too much eye makeup that held no affection and left no room for me. Probably, I figured I’d be in school for the extent of my twenties.
I debated going for almost a year before I turned 21. (I have trouble with large commitments and need lots of time to think about them.) I was restless where I was, and felt that if I was willing to spend up to ten years in school, then surely the Lord deserved a year and a half. The letters from my friends were strange and fascinating, and I wanted to be part of something that could change and gentle them so greatly. I also felt it was about time to take a stand. All of that, and I can still tell you the day I decided to go. I went to the homecoming of the Comet’s older sister, and sitting in church watching her tell of her experiences, I’d never seen anyone so beautiful and lit from within in my life. I’d known her and her brother for years, but something inside her had changed. I wanted that, and I wanted to be part of whatever force had the power to change someone so completely. I was going.
Junior year
My junior year at Utah State, I was living off campus in a friendly building, I adored my new roommate Molly, I was taking the classes I wanted (Latin! Chemistry!), I still had my scholarship so school was free, my mission papers were in, and that January, the guys started coming home from their missions.
In May, I went home for a weekend. Home meant Jenny and my Boys, and when I left that Saturday night, I didn’t tell my family where I was going. Everyone had come back, including Sam, who still followed me around, and Jim, who didn’t seem to mind me following him around. (To everyone who is still reading this incredibly long missive and chooses to respond, I thank you. For giggles, use the word “bound” somewhere in your post.) That evening, we gathered at Sam’s house and started talking. One by one, Jim and the others slipped away until only Sam, Jenny, and I were left. At 6:32 am, the phone rang, and Sam answered.
It was my dad. To this day, I don’t know what my father said to him, but Sam turned white, said “Yes, sir.” and slowly hung up the phone.
“Katie, they want you home.”
--------
When I got home, it was 6:00am. (That was my first mistake.) My mom was crying and my dad was furious. Jenny was still with me, and my dad said that he would drive her home – I wasn’t going anywhere.
While they were gone, my mom was still crying. She said she might need to go to the hospital. She’d been the hospital a few times that spring, but I didn’t really know what was going on. My dad had always driven her before, so I asked if I was to drive her the twenty minutes or if I should call an ambulance. She didn’t know, but she seemed to be in distress but not horribly, so I grabbed my keys. (That was the second mistake.) We were in the car, and I realized I hadn’t taken my mom’s cell phone – she was the only one with one. I couldn’t find it with a scan, so I decided it was better to drive and call my dad from the hospital. (That was… yeah, you get the idea.) On the way, my mother’s breathing became more and more labored. I pulled over into an empty gas station and called an ambulance. When I went back to the car, she was still awake, but just barely. She couldn’t breathe. She whispered how much she loved my dad, and me, and my brothers. She kept saying it wasn’t my fault.
By the time the ambulance got there, she’d been gone for almost eight minutes. She stayed in a coma for two weeks, and she died without waking up. My dad was at the hospital, but my brothers and I were home – I was in my bedroom, staring at the marble wallpaper.
---------
My mother died on June 10. I was supposed to enter the MTC on June 28, and I had nothing prepared. Mom and I were going to do all the shopping in June after school got out. Someone talked to my mission president, and my enter date was put off until July 31. My house was so...sad. It didn’t even occur to me not to go – I couldn’t wait to leave.
I was living in someone else’s story. I practiced in my room the strange sentences that applied to some other girl with my face, some other life that had obliterated mine.
“My mom died when I was 21 “
“How did she die? Um, congestive heart failure.”
“Did you know my mother? She died years ago.”
-------
I can’t remember much from those two months. I do remember that we went for a weekend to Jim’s family’s cabin on Bear Lake. Sam taught me how to fence, we watched some horrible movie the guys picked out about spatulas and a cable station, and late that night, after everyone else fell asleep, Sam taught me to play chess. Pausing over a move, he muttered softly, “Katie, please stay.” I was floored. (I was an idiot.) I sputtered some sort of no, there wasn’t a chance, and he quickly left for upstairs. We didn’t talk again. Two weeks later, I left for Detroit on my mission.
---------
I didn’t want to talk to them. They were friends that belonged to another time, and I didn’t have any right to talk to them. Sam tried – he cornered me a couple times, offered his help, and spilled over with worry. I told him I was fine, completely fine, and why was he worried? I should have been with my mom that weekend, I shouldn’t have made her worry, I should have done many things differently, and in a desperate act of penance, I would cast aside all the things in my life that made me the person who made this happen. It was the least I could do. Besides, this obviously wasn’t my life. It didn’t matter what I did.
I meant to leave my life completely, and it happened. Jenny fell off the face of the earth a month later when she got her first boyfriend. By the time I got back, Sam and Jenny were married (He married my best friend. How Mozartian of him.), and my dad got married and moved the family into her house one month before I came home. (No, they didn’t wait for me. Yes, I did ask. No, I wasn’t okay with this. In the poetic justice column, the wedding day was a disaster of children and grandchildren relations from beginning to end. Picture bi-generational tantrums during the ceremony. *suppresses urge to snicker*) Molly did save her wedding until I came home, which I appreciated. Other people were waiting for me as well, but I only spoke to those who could never possibly hurt me. (Don’t do that – it’s not a good idea.)
I don’t know the ending to this story. I absolutely adored my mission – it was wonderful, and it did change and gentle me. Detroit was perfect – my grief made things harder, but only for my companions. *grin* Sharing what my mission was like would take another 2,000 words, but it can best be summed up in Mosiah 18:30. That feeling of living someone else’s life did end, but it took a few years for me to figure out that, believable or not, this actually was my life and that meant I needed to pay attention to it.
There’s more of life after this, but this is a good place to stop. The story isn’t over yet, of course. Everything in here happened years ago, and I wondered about posting it. What’s the point? Except it does explain a lot of me, I think.
I love the people I have met and the friends I have made here at Hatrack, and I’m so, so grateful for this community that the Cards made possible and the community-builders brought to life. Thank you.
----Katie
[ January 26, 2004, 05:38 PM: Message edited by: katharina ]
Posted by Belle (Member # 2314) on :
That is bound to be one of the most sincere landmark post I've ever read.
Katie, I cannot imagine the pain of losing your mother. I admire you for still going on your mission, and I'm glad it was a positive experience for you.
(((Katie)))
Posted by lcarus (Member # 4395) on :
Will read later . . . for now: ((((Kat))))
Posted by rivka (Member # 4859) on :
((((((((((katie))))))))))
You knew I was bound to do that, right?
Thank you for sharing, sweetie. You are an intrinsic and wonderful part of why I love Hatrack.
Posted by BYuCnslr (Member # 1857) on :
:: blinks :: I'm a smidgen speachless. Beautiful landmark, albiet sad, but still beautiful. :: hugs :: Very glad to have you here. Satyagraha
Posted by Kama (Member # 3022) on :
Katie...
I can see how difficult it was for you to write this. Bringing back memories hurts, but don't doubt that there was a point in this. It is a wonderful landmark, allowing a glimpse into your heart. I love you. I can't wait to meet you.
((((kat))))
Oh, and
"bound" Posted by Noemon (Member # 1115) on :
My god kat, that's bound to be the most heart wrenching landmark I've read.
It wasn't your fault you know. Do you know that?
((kat))
Posted by Bokonon (Member # 480) on :
Well done kat.
I was spellbound.
Here's hoping you make up the years of living "someone else's life" with the intensely wonderful living of the rest of your "own". I have no doubt you have the character and will to do so.
-Bok
Posted by Ela (Member # 1365) on :
Wow, Kat, that was quite a story. Thanks for sharing it.
(((Kat)))
**Ela**
Posted by Dr. Seuss (Member # 2487) on :
Wow.
I truly enjoyed getting to know you at Wenchcon. It was great. Thanks so much for sharing this with us.
Remember, you are sending me that hard drive of yours. I need to retrieve that data of yours. I said I would, I'm bound to it.
-Zev
[ January 26, 2004, 04:10 PM: Message edited by: Dr. Seuss ]
Posted by Bob the Lawyer (Member # 3278) on :
quote:(I have trouble with large commitments and need lots of time to think about them.)
Not that we could have guessed that. I mean, it only took 10,000 posts and how much waffling before you finished? Ah well, you were bound to do it eventually.
*raises glass*
Posted by Annie (Member # 295) on :
*bounds over to Katie and tackle hugs her*
I am so grateful to know you, sister. And truly, you are one of my heroes. Not to mention my triplet - your Mom's conversion story is identical to my Mom's. And hers was in Texas too. And my Dad worked in oil. Yipes! You are me!
Thanks for being such an example. We love having you here!
Posted by Jon Boy (Member # 4284) on :
Thanks for sharing all that, Katie. I'm honored to call you my friend (and triplet). If you're ever in Provo (or if I'm ever in Houston), consider me morally bound to buy you a Jamba Juice.
[ January 26, 2004, 03:54 PM: Message edited by: Jon Boy ]
Posted by MyrddinFyre (Member # 2576) on :
(((kat)))
You are truly an amazing person. Thank you for sharing your story
Can't think of a way to incorporate bound into this post, but I guess I just did
-Myr
Posted by Farmgirl (Member # 5567) on :
Kat,
Your post just abounds with emotion. I'm so glad you shared -- it does speak volumes about how these events affected who you are today.
((Kat))
Farmgirl
Posted by Olivet (Member # 1104) on :
I'm glad you finally got it out, sweet. (((((Katie)))))
Surely you remember, from our late night conversations, but I will say it again. I'm, er, bound to.
But not here. Posted by Ophelia (Member # 653) on :
*hugs Katie*
That was beautiful, and I'm glad you finally posted it. Thank you.
It was lovely meeting you at WenchCon. Come see me in Houston sometime--we're bound to have fun.
Posted by Chris Bridges (Member # 1138) on :
{{{kat}}}
I'm bound and determined to meet you someday(but not in a stalky, creepy way).
Posted by Posable_Man (Member # 5105) on :
I'm bound and gagged. But that has less to do with your post than it does with certain practices of mine that are probably better discussed offline.
Kat, that was a beautiful and powerful post. I'm sorry your mom had to go when you needed her so much. I am very glad to hear that you are living your life. I have a friend who has spent her entire adult life in resentments and recriminations, mostly surrounding her family. I was worried (from some things you'd said in the past) that you were either running in a similar vein, or headed that direction. This post has helped me to realize how wrong my opinion was. And I am sorry for it because I might've understood you better had I bothered to read a little more closely over the past 10,000 posts or so.
All I can say is that this was an eye-opener for me and I'm very glad you posted it.
I look forward to meeting you someday soon.
Congrats on 10,000 posts, by the way!!!
Posted by jexx (Member # 3450) on :
You're bound to turn out just the way you are meant to turn out. That was a horrible sentence, but I was bound to write it!
Kat, dear, you are very very special. Thank you for telling us your story. Imagine yourself enveloped in a huge, healing hug.
Posted by Hobbes (Member # 433) on :
I would say this is why I insisted on giving you so many hugs at WenchCon, but really, it was because after all of this you turned out so great.
Go Kat!
(((((Kat)))))
[EDIT: It's me writting this, it's bound to have spelling mistakes isn't it?]
Hobbes
[ January 26, 2004, 07:38 PM: Message edited by: Hobbes ]
Posted by peter the bookie (Member # 3270) on :
Why would you be so hesitant to post something bound to make us love you more?
Posted by aka (Member # 139) on :
I read every word, spellbound! The story of your mother's death makes me cry. Dear kat, you are so much a part of what hatrack is. Here's to 10,000 more. <<<<<<<big hug>>>>>>>>> and a wenchkiss Posted by dkw (Member # 3264) on :
Much as I love reading deeply moving and personal landmark posts, I never know how to respond to them. Anything I write is bound to feel inadequate.
Kat, that was beautiful. I’m glad you got to hear some of those stories from your mother before she died. And I’m very, very glad to know you.
Posted by Papa Moose (Member # 1992) on :
<Echoes dkw.>
Um... bound.
--Pop
Posted by Derrell (Member # 6062) on :
((((Kat))) Thank you for sharing that part of your life.
Posted by Zotto! (Member # 4689) on :
That was an incredible story, Kat. Glad to have you here. (((Katharina)))
...and bound bound bounditty-bound. Posted by Ryuko (Member # 5125) on :
Boy am I bad at working specific words into my posts.. If someone asks me to, I'm bound to have difficulty...
I'm glad to read this, kat. It was worth waiting for. The worst tragedy is having to go through your mother's death like that without knowing anything. I wish you the best of luck.. Forever. Thanks so much for your story.
Posted by porcelain girl (Member # 1080) on :
kat, i feel lucky to know more about your mother.
i took a long lunch to read this, and am so glad i did.
boundless love headed your way, sunshine. -sara
Posted by larisse (Member # 2221) on :
Katharina,
Thank you for sharing in that wonderful and heartfelt landmark.
Please allow me to give you a hug.
{{{Katharina}}} <-- love your name by the way and the spelling
Hatrack just keeps on amazing me. I am just happy to even be a small part of it.
Posted by advice for robots (Member # 2544) on :
Keep it up, kat! You are awesome.
BTW, I'm taking a course from Kelli Cargile-Cook right now--Advanced Editing. She's a great instructor!
Bound!
Posted by Derrell (Member # 6062) on :
Katharina Posted by Taalcon (Member # 839) on :
Katie, one of the only things that makes we wish I HAD gotten some sleep at WenchCon is the idea that I could possibly have been more cognicent and would therefore have been bound to have made much more sense in our conversations together - especially on the last day. As it was, I rambled and ranted, and spent more time talking than listening - which for me, as people who know me best will attest to, is a bit of a departure.
In one of those ramblings, I mentioned my philosophy of writing - of how it's a lot like archaeology, and how elements that seem wonderful and complete on their own can suddenly grow more fascinating and beautiful when more information is uncovered.
It works with people too, you know.
Yours is a story worth reading - worth knowing. And I'm sure I speak for all of the WenchCon attendees when I thank you for giving us a chance to see a peek at the continuing work in progress.
Now take up Josh on his offer, and send him your computer! I want you to get AIM working so I can get to know better!
-Dave
Posted by Brinestone (Member # 5755) on :
Kat, your life story parallels my mother's in a lot of ways. Both you and she are amazing, strong women. I kind of envy your opportunity to go on a mission; that's the only regret I have about marrying when I did, but what is right is right, and I somehow knew I wouldn't go. (: But this isn't about me, it's about you. I enjoyed reading your post.
Hm. I think this may be the first landmark post I've responded to. I never know what to say when someone shares (bound) something like that. I just want to soak it in, to enjoy knowing the person that much better.
Posted by hansenj (Member # 4034) on :
Like Ryuko said, I'm bound to sound silly when trying to use specific words in my posts. I'm just bad at it. Remember mafia? Yeah...
Katharina, I want to tell you that you are truly inspiring to me. I loved reading this wonderfully open and touching post, and finding out the story behind what has made you the person you are.
Thank you. Posted by unicornwhisperer (Member # 294) on :
(sob)
I'm so sorry your mother died and so close to when you were going on your mission. That is awesome that you still went on your mission. You are an inspiration and thank you for sharing this post (and 10,000th post, wow!) Now I miss my mom... I think I'm going to go call her. About when did you find out about Hatrack?
[ January 26, 2004, 06:54 PM: Message edited by: unicornwhisperer ]
Posted by Derrell (Member # 6062) on :
Once again, thak you for sharing your story. The part about your mother got to me. Please don't ask why. Maybe I'll put that in my landmark post when I hit 1000.
Posted by Teshi (Member # 5024) on :
It's amazing how amazing real life, and real people can be. Of course, this post and person was bound to be the most amazing of them all...
Posted by Derrell (Member # 6062) on :
*bump*
katharina
Posted by Coccinelle (Member # 5832) on :
Thank you for being my friend and for introducing me to an incredible community of people to whom you are bound.
You are amazing. I appreciate the fact that everything in your life is reflected in the wonderful person you are now.
10,000 more, please!
[ January 27, 2004, 12:49 AM: Message edited by: Coccinelle ]
Posted by fugu13 (Member # 2859) on :
I am moved.
Oh, and bound. Not I am bound, just the word bound. Though being bound would be odd.
Posted by mackillian (Member # 586) on :
*hug*
Posted by Dragon (Member # 3670) on :
(((((Kat)))))
Thanks for sharing your story with us and for being such a presence here. You were one of the first posters I noticed when I was new, always welcoming and kind, and your posts are just as beautiful now. My appreciation knows no bounds.
Posted by Leonide (Member # 4157) on :
That was a landmark straight from the heart, kat, and you didn't mince words. i admire both things, and you, immensely. i find myself disagreeing with you very often on important matters, but despite that I've always liked you and enjoyed reading your posts. i think that speaks to what an eloquent, impassioned person you are, cause i rarely like people whom I disagree with.
(((((kat)))))
Posted by Dan_raven (Member # 3383) on :
Um--ditto Papa Moose's ditto of DKW.
You are an asset to Hatrack. Thanks for showing us a little bit of why.
Reading that post I was left with an emotion of awe and something I couldn't quite place. Then it struck me.
Pride.
I am so proud of you. I am proud that you survived everything. I am proud that you have grown from the evils that crossed your path. I am proud that those evils were overcome to make you the great person you are.
I have no claim on you, but I am proud to know you.
And maybe a bit envious.
Thanks again.
[edited to correct whom I was ditto-ing]
[ January 27, 2004, 02:59 PM: Message edited by: Dan_raven ]
Posted by T_Smith (Member # 3734) on :
((((Katie)))) Posted by solo (Member # 3148) on :
Anything I say in response to this post is bound to be insufficient in describing the feelings I get from reading it.
Thanks for sharing some of your forming experiences. I have always enjoyed reading your posts and hope to read many more.
Posted by eslaine (Member # 5433) on :
I saw it this afternoon, but could not post.
Another ten-thousand, please. Posted by lcarus (Member # 4395) on :
pssst . . . Dan . . . scroll back up!
Kat, I've never found you to be other than a caring and courageous person. Thank you for sharing your story. I read every word--though I won't play any games just for giggles, or just to be tested, so you'll simply have to take my word for it --and found it to be a deeply touching account. I'm sorry for the hardship you've been through, and I wouldn't wish the bad times on anybody, but I'm grateful for the person you have become, and I'm thankful that you've found a home at Hatrack, and I've had the chance to virtually know you. I hope someday I meet you IRL. Sooner or later I'll have to break down and visit all of the distinguished Texas jatraqueros . . .
(((Kat)))
P.S. You put up with a lot of crap. I'm glad recent times have been better for you, and hope the peaceful, easy feeling continues. Posted by Ophelia (Member # 653) on :
quote:Sooner or later I'll have to break down and visit all of the distinguished Texas jatraqueros . . .
Sooner, sooner! As in, before May!
Posted by lcarus (Member # 4395) on :
pfffft. Like that'll happen!
(Are you leaving?)
Posted by Ophelia (Member # 653) on :
Such is the current plan. Although I don't know where I'm going yet . . .
Posted by lcarus (Member # 4395) on :
Maybe you'll move closer to here! And maybe you'll bring Kat, Bob, and DB with you!
Posted by Shan (Member # 4550) on :
Kat - many hugs.
The tears are okay - because I think they actually mean something is being loosened up - which means healing.
Blessings and congratulations. Thank you for sharing.
Posted by pooka (Member # 5003) on :
That was boundacious. You and my stories are kind of the same overall, though very different in just about every particular. Coming to a place through a path that you can't believe you took.
By the way, did anything hideous happen to that couple that got married in the Eiffel Tower? Or do I need to burn more newt eyes?
(((tackle))) Tricia
Posted by fiazko (Member # 5812) on :
quote: we watched some horrible movie the guys picked out about spatulas and a cable station
UHF!! (Someone was bound to bring it up sooner or later.)
Seriously, though, in true landmark fashion, you gave us a beautiful look at many of the people and experiences that make you who you are. I've never met you, but you're officially on my list of Hatrackers I'd love to encounter face to face. Until then, don't be a stanger. Keep living and keep sharing.
Posted by Narnia (Member # 1071) on :
This is bound to be one of the most memorable landmarks simply because of our special assignment to use an ordinary word in all of our responses. I love it!!
Dearest Katie,
I've read so many of these 10,000 posts of yours from the sidelines, usually in awe of your ability to debate, converse, argue and bring in the funny. I feel like I know you personally, though you probably didn't know I was noticing so much. I've noticed that you're an amazing person. And I've noticed that you're well loved. I hope you've noticed this as well.
Thank you for your landmark post. It will be an important part of our community history...and the history is better because you're in it.
(((Katie)))
~Cecily~
Posted by Frisco (Member # 3765) on :
In your honor, Kat, I'm putting one of your sexy WenchCon pictures up as my wallpaper.
Okay, you got me--it's been up for a week, but now I have an excuse.
Great landmark. Makes me want to hop the next Texas-bound train to give you a hug.
Posted by raventh1 (Member # 3750) on :
I don't know how to express what I want to say, other than a hug. (Kat) It was bound to happen sooner than later.
Posted by Ryoko (Member # 4947) on :
Bound....James Bound
I enjoyed your post very much.
Posted by Tristan (Member # 1670) on :
I almost never post in landmark threads, but I read them all (yes, in their entirety ). Thank you for this chance to get to know you better.
Posted by Derrell (Member # 6062) on :
Kat, have we told you how much we aappreciate your honesty?
Posted by twinky (Member # 693) on :
No, but we're bound to do so now...
----
This is the last post I can make for a week or so, but this is definitely the best place to put it. I'm glad you finally did your landmark, and I'm very glad to have read it.
Posted by saxon75 (Member # 4589) on :
Katie,
I really enjoyed meeting you this past year. I figure you're bound to make it out here again; can't wait for it.
Some people live with the weight of the world on their shoulders. So often we carry this weight through no fault of our own. I hope you are not carrying a lot of guilt around, but it sounds like you are. I hope that you find a way to lay this burden down, because you don't deserve it. Barring that, maybe you can let some of us help you carry it.
Posted by jehovoid (Member # 2014) on :
I don't usually read these things, but this time I'm really glad I did. It's these really good ones that make me feel obligated to do one myself at some point.
And what's with this bound thing (notice I used obligated in the post proper, but still incorporated the word bound anyway because I'm a sucker)?
[ January 27, 2004, 12:18 PM: Message edited by: jehovoid ]
Posted by Anna (Member # 2582) on :
((((((((((Kat)))))))))) Thanks for sharing. Each grief is different, so I won't tell I know how you feel or felt, that would be ridiculous. But I feel closer to you. And congrats for 10 000 ! Posted by katharina (Member # 827) on :
*hugs everyone*
Oh, thank you guys. I'm feel a little sheepish for how hesitant I was to post this. I should have known Hatrack's response. Thank you so much.
A few things:
1. For those who were offended, sorry about the word thing. It was just in the middle of typing something almost heavy, and it was time for a joke, and that's unfortunately the one that came to mind. It occurred to me a few days ago what a cool word it was, and I wondered all the different ways to use it. Hatrack: Better than a dictionary!
2. Noemon and saxon: *hug* I did have a lot of guilt for a long time. I know there is such thing as survivor's guilt, and it's natural. Unfortunately, I had more than abundant empirical evidence to point out that mine was actually warranted. The net effect was to swear to be a better daughter to the parent I had left, which now included listening and obeying, which for the first 20 years I had never felt a need. I didn't actually inform my dad of this resolution, though, so he was doing his usual dictating fully expecting it to be as fruitless as usual, and I was trying to follow and being miserable because I was trying to be so good, but I was living someone else's life and it didn't fit. Thankfully, I dropped that a couple of years ago when I got an order to stop dating someone. It offended me to the core (and, considering his own history, smacked of more than a little hypocrisy.) I remember - it was a "Okay, I'm done. I did my best." moment. Have to grow up sometime. I'm a lot happier now.
Posted by lcarus (Member # 4395) on :
I wasn't really offended. I meant all the good things I said, and I hope the bound comment wasn't all that you got out of my post. I just know that those of us who have been beaten up a bit by life have a hard time taking people and things at face value, and always feel the need to test everything. If I am simply projecting my own issues on to you, then I humbly apologize. In any case, I wasn't so much offended as refusing to play the game out of a desire for you to simply accept my good wishes on face value. Hmm . . . I'm not quite expressing myself how I want to. Not that I think you would have not believed me, but that, for instance, I have a tendency of waiting for the other shoe to fall when people compliment me. A lesson I need to learn is to accept kindness and compliments without making excuses for them (Of course people would post nice thoughts in my landmark post; you noticed my weight loss? I must have really been fat before; okay, when do you get to the "but" part of your compliment?) I thought I might be seeing in you the same tendency I have seen in myself.
AnywayIhavetorunrightnowstudentsarecomingin i'llseeificanmakeitmakesenselater . . .
Posted by katharina (Member # 827) on :
Some responses... I wanted to thank everyone, and I appreciate greatly the comments of everone. I'm addressing below those that requested or piqued a specific response, but I read every one. It means a lot to me.
Icarus: I felt the sincerity behind your response: no worries. I was worried for a moment that some would think I was testing people - not at all. At least, not conciously.
I did have disclaimers at the beginning and some belligerence at the end that I removed once I realized I didn't the protections, so I understand the impulse.
Bob: Thank you for that. I'm told from very reliable sources - Slash and Olivia - that I'm, um, nicer in person than online. I'm taking that as an ompliment.
afr: Kelli Cargile Cook is a killer teacher, isn't she? Tell her hello for me! I'll need her to write me some more recommendations soon.
Taal: That last monday was an incredibly good day. Thank you for it.
unicornwhisperer: You know what, I can't remember! I can't remember finding Hatrack! It just wasn't a big deal then. If it helps, I can't remember learning to read, either. I forget birthdays and anniverseries, too. *hangs head in shame*
Ophelia: We totally need to play in Houston. Maybe the last weekend in February? Will that work? I'll send an e-mail.
[ January 27, 2004, 02:08 PM: Message edited by: katharina ]
Posted by Bob_Scopatz (Member # 1227) on :
quote:Bob: Thank you for that. I'm told from very reliable sources - Slash and Olivia - that I'm, um, nicer in person than online. I'm taking that as an ompliment.
It was a compliment. Badly worded, of course, but a compliment nonetheless.
And it was also an ompliment -- hmm...must be some sort of omnipotent compliment.
(I'm also impressed that you made a typo and managed to change to the appropriate article from a to an). LOL!!!
By the way, I'm going to be away the last weekend in February, so I can't come and play with you and Ophelia in Houston. But I would like to!
Posted by Da_Goat (Member # 5529) on :
That has to be the most beautiful thing I've ever read on Hatrack. I'm sorry you had to go through the pain of losing your mom so earlier for such unnatural causes. I hope the rest of your life and the life that you mentioned you didn't mention will be and has been more cheerful. No, I don't hope; it's bound to be better.
Posted by katharina (Member # 827) on :
Yeah, Banna called foul on leaving off the narrative before we got to present life, but heck, this was scary enough.
------- Bob, when's a good time for you? February's sort of full - maybe March? That would be awesome!
[ January 27, 2004, 02:38 PM: Message edited by: katharina ]
Posted by Noemon (Member # 1115) on :
*hugs kat back*
The thing is, kat, there is no way that you could have predicted that the things you did would have led to what happened; the decision to drive her to the hopsiptal was a reasonable one, and really, so was the decision to just hurry up and go, and not bother looking for the cell phone. It was tragic, but not your fault. Really. At all. I can understand blaming yourself; were I in your shoes, I'd probably blame myself, but from the perspective of an outside observer, I can tell you that from what you've described, you really are blameless.
Oh, and by the way, for the interforum humor. Maybe we can start a meme!
Posted by Bob_Scopatz (Member # 1227) on :
Kat, basically, the way my schedule works, you're better off picking a date/time and as it approaches I'll see if I'm in TX that week/weekend or not.
It's crazy, but I've been called away on 1 day's notice 3x in the last 2 months.
But, yes, March currently doesn't suck.
Posted by jeniwren (Member # 2002) on :
wowzer, Kat, that was a wonderful post! And well, well worth the wait.
It burst the boundaries of the landmark tradition. Thanks so much for taking the time to put it down into words and for the courage it took to post it. Stuff that close to the heart is tough to share.
*major hugs* I still like to think of you as a long lost sister I haven't met yet.
Posted by Ophelia (Member # 653) on :
March is better for me, too, I think. (The last weekend in February is the beginning of spring break, but I should be back from whatever I decide to do by the 7th at the latest.) It's a busy month, but if you pick a day I'll see if I can work with it.
Posted by Olivet (Member # 1104) on :
I told you on Friday night at WenchCon, and here goes again.... YOu really, really are NOT to blame for her death. Promise.
I know it may feel like an easy thing for me to say, just to make you feel better, but it really is a no-brainer. Your emotional reality may be different, but the fact is it would have happened anyway. Your actions didn't change that at all. Everyone can see that but you, and my prayer for you is that you will see it as clearly as we can. (((Kate)))
Oh, and stupid Sam! His loss, though. Posted by unicornwhisperer (Member # 294) on :
*Gives Kat a hug*
Posted by katharina (Member # 827) on :
*hugs*
I know it's not my fault, so to speak.
------
Eh, the thing with Sam is fine. I mean, he was wife-hunting hard-core, and I don't think I was ready anyway. Plus, not my type.
[ January 28, 2004, 03:38 PM: Message edited by: katharina ]
Posted by Mrs.M (Member # 2943) on :
Kat, you are a credit to your mother in every way. . . . Are we still doing the bound thing?
Posted by Taberah (Member # 4014) on :
"The world breaks every one, and afterwards many are strong at the broken places." -A Farewell to Arms
Kate, in case I did not express it fully enough before, it was a great pleasure to actually meet you in person. I did not know then what you have come through; and now I'm left wondering if knowing your past would have in some way obscured my view of the present. (A relationship version of Heisenberg's Uncertainty Principle, if you will.) Either way, I'll take what I can get. I would not have you be anyone other than who you are, and I hope for more opportunities to discover who that person is. If I get a chance I'll send you an email or a letter soon.
Posted by ClaudiaTherese (Member # 923) on :
katharina, love, I swear this to you: if she were that fragile, the end was very very near. If worrying over you that weekend pushed her over the edge, then she was already 99/100ths of the way over. If minutes made the difference, they made the difference in terms of hours or at most days, not weeks or months. I swear it. And that's a word I never, ever use lightly.
Much love to you, my sister.
quote:It works with people too, you know.
Bound to be right there, dude.
[ January 30, 2004, 02:53 AM: Message edited by: ClaudiaTherese ]
Posted by katharina (Member # 827) on :
![[Frown]](frown.gif)
I admire you for still going on your mission, and I'm glad it was a positive experience for you.![[Wink]](wink.gif)
![[Razz]](tongue.gif)
![[Smile]](smile.gif)
![[Kiss]](graemlins/kiss.gif)
![[Hail]](graemlins/hail.gif)
![[Cry]](graemlins/cry.gif)
![[Hat]](graemlins/hat.gif)
![[Big Grin]](biggrin.gif)
![[Group Hug]](graemlins/grouphug.gif)
![[The Wave]](graemlins/thewave.gif)
![[Blushing]](graemlins/blushing.gif)
That last monday was an incredibly good day. Thank you for it. ![[Eek!]](eek.gif)