I'd been working from home when there was an anxious knock at the door - a lovely police woman stood outside, concerned, and asked if my husband was home. I said no he's at work. Actually - he hadn't showed up for work - they were worried because he wasn't answering his phone, so they asked the Irvine pd to do a wellness check at the house. He didnt answer when I called either. I hadn't been worried all morning, I wasn't really worried now...it just kinda seemed like a mystery to solve. Where could Sergey be? Ever so slowly that nonchalance faded; and as the officer went back to her car to check the system, my confidence began to melt.
"I'll be back in 20 mins" became half an hour. Then there were 2 cars down there. Then 45 minutes. I went down to ask what was going on, and was immediately asked to go back upstairs. It seemed almost harsh. I paced our home...then ran a load of laundry; washed the dishes; cleaned the kitchen. There were 3 cop cars downstairs. The lack of control and not knowing was driving me crazy - called chp (California highway patrol).
Giving the license plate for the 2009 Kawasaki zx-14, Asked to check if there had been any large motorcycles down that morning on the 405. They said no. No people booked. No people in the hospital. All john does accounted for. That plate wasn't in the system..... Everything was great! No worries! Thank you so much! :)
At that exact moment, the lady officer and her partner came back in the apartment.
"There's been an accident. Your husband was killed this morning".
"What???? No. You're lying. I just got off the phone with chp they said his bikes not in the system."
"It was in an intersection in Costa Mesa. It happened this morning".
"No that is absolutely not what happened!! He is a good rider. No!! I don't believe you!!!"
"His motorcycle was struck by an SUV - he was killed instantly - he didn't suffer."
I can remember standing and staring at the legs of the coffee table and watching them turn black. My mind jumped from grief to anger to disbelief. It all seemed so cliche. This isn't real.
"I want to see him!"
If it's true - I need to see him - touch him. Or else.... This is absolutely NOT REAL. I felt like he was going to walk in the room any minute. When someone tells you something so incredibly unbelievable and out of this world - you can't just accept it without proof.
"I want to see him; I need to see him".
I asked maybe 50 times and they always said no. No viewing facilities at the coroner. My heart was breaking - my world was unraveling. Air couldn't get into my body because my nose was stuffed from crying. An entire box of tissues was destroyed.
Sitting on our couch in our home - boxed in and trapped by (all were sweet and wonderful and well meaning) 2 grief Counselors, 2 police officers and a friend of my husbands from work... My mind was floating, my blood was pulsing, even though I ate and drank nothing I had to pee every hour, lips dry as a desert, nose cut up from tissue.... All the while still not even sure it was all even happening.
"I need to see him". Again no.
The entire day - sitting on the couch - crying yelling - telling friends; tracking down family- not believing - being babysat. Feeling like the world is a sham. But at the same time...waiting for whatever, whenever he's going to come home.
"I saw him this morning....."
All day I didn't eat. Because he didn't come home. And I make dinner for him.
That night it occurred to me how stupid it was running the laundry. Because all of the clothes he'd worn - that had touched his body, had his smell - were clean. Searching the house, finally found a baseball cap. Clutching it - I laid down beside his side of the bed, afraid to touch it. It was so lonely and quiet. The gravity of it all still wasn't gravity; it was a haze of both shock...and knowing exactly what's going on. Which for some reason fits hand and hand with denial.
He took my heart when he died that day. A piece of me died as well.
And every once in a while - I still think he's going to walk threw the front door.
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