I knew how hard that choice had been for her, but it was the right one to make. She’d always been able to make the right decisions, even when they were the toughest ones.
The next thing I knew, I had been appointed as Katie’s legal guardian. While trying to juggle my own devastation and grief, I suddenly also had to take care of a shattered, confused five-year-old in mourning.
Katie was my world, and I only ever wanted to do what was best for her, but I wasn’t convinced I was really it. Katherine had chosen me for the job, and because I knew how much my sister had lived for her daughter, I knew it wasn’t a decision she would have made lightly. It was an honor really.
But it was also a responsibility I hadn’t been prepared for. All my choices about Katie were second-guessed. Even moving out here to the suburbs.
The neighborhood was cute and charming. A lot of kids lived on this street and it was close to the school Katherine herself had chosen for Katie, but in the back of my mind, I always wondered if this was what Katherine would’ve done.
Would she approve of the decisions I made? Would she think this was the right choice? Would she have preferred those pictures to go in Katie’s room or would she be happy with them on the mantel?
It was a constant struggle, and one that felt like it would never end. Not until they installed phone lines in Heaven and I could finally ask my sister all my questions. Unfortunately, last I heard, no one was making any progress on those lines of communication.
Another heavy sigh came out of me, but then I heard little footsteps coming down the hall, and I pulled myself out of my moment of sadness. While I was definitely still struggling to come to terms with everything that had happened, I was the adult in this situation.
Somehow. Who let that happen? I mean, me? An adult? I need to speak to the manager.
But I was the adult, and I refused to let Katie see me grieving for her mother when she herself was only just starting to smile more often than she cried. She was the bravest, most resilient little girl on the planet.
I knew it was important not to hide all my emotions from her—I’d been told by all the counselors that it was important for her to know she wasn’t alone in her grief—but I also didn’t want her to have to deal with the wreck I became whenever I opened one of their boxes.
Katie, now seven and becoming way too smart, came around the corner into the living room with her arms spread wide at her sides. She turned in a slow circle, a proud grin on her face as she showed off her Halloween costume.
“I look just like a real farmer,” she said, her chest puffing out when she came to a stop. “One day when I’m a farmer for real, I’ll get to wear this every day.”
“You look amazing.” I set my coffee down beside the photographs and went over to give her a hug.
“Thank you for getting me the outfit,” she said with her thin little arms around my waist. “I especially love the overalls.”
I smiled into her blonde hair. “You’re so very welcome, baby.”
More tears pricked at the backs of my eyes. Katie looked cute as heck in her shiny red cowgirl boots, a plaid shirt, and a straw hat. I’d found the overalls at the thrift store, and she’d been enamored with them since I’d brought them home.
I wish Katherine could see her like this. I tried not to think too often about all the moments my sister was missing, but since I’d started the move, it’d been more of a challenge than ever.
I still didn’t want Katie to notice how sad I was, though. Especially not this morning. She’d been excited for Halloween for months. Her cornflower-blue eyes, Katherine’s eyes, were wide and bright. The smile on her face hadn’t faltered since she’d come into view.
“You look ready to plow the fields and milk the cows,” I joked in an attempt to cover up my melancholy. “Get over here. Let’s take a few pictures, shall we?”
Releasing her to grab my phone from the table, I took a deep breath before going back to her side. Get it together, Laurie. The house isn’t going to unpack itself and you can’t keep weeping every time you see a picture of Kat.
“How about you pose for a few by yourself first?” I asked, trying to buy myself the time I needed to follow my internal instructions before I had to appear on the other side of the camera.
Katie smiled and nodded. “Will you send them to Granny and Grandpa?”
“You bet.” My parents had always been my rock and safe haven, but that had never been truer than it had been since Kat’s death. “They would never forgive me if I didn’t send them pictures of their favorite granddaughter, the farmer.”
She giggled, and I caught the most beautiful natural shot of her as she lifted her hand to hide her mouth. “I’m their only granddaughter, so I have to be their favorite.”
“Really?” I tilted my head and scratched my jaw. “That doesn’t seem right. Are you sure?”
While she nodded and giggled again, I took a few more bursts of pictures. It turned out the dusty windows combined with the early-morning sunlight provided soft lighting for beautiful pictures.
There’s always a silver lining somewhere. You just have to look for it.
Katie and I laughed our way through our impromptu photoshoot before I mentioned cows again. Her eyes suddenly widened and she took off back down the hallway to her room.
“Cows!” she exclaimed while running. “I forgot Mr. Moo. I can’t go to school without him.”
“Of course not. Go get him. I’ll get breakfast ready.”
Mr. Moo was her favorite stuffed animal, and even though it wasn’t in the best shape since she’d been sleeping with him her entire life, she didn’t let that stop her from taking him to school every day.
While she retrieved her most prized possession, I decided to give up on unpacking another box right away and headed to the kitchen to make her some breakfast. I wouldn’t have had time to get through another whole box before we had to leave for school anyway.
Baby steps are still steps.
Our kitchen was small but cozy. It had a breakfast nook in front of a bay window, bright yellow sunflowers on a row of blue tiles above the countertops, and some of Katie’s artwork under magnets on the fridge.
At least I’d gotten more than halfway through unpacking in here. All the basics were out, and since my mother firmly believed in the kitchen being the heart of the home, I was proud of myself for having turned this space into somewhere we could enjoy some family time.
After popping in some toast for her and cutting up an apple, I refreshed my coffee and sipped on that while she ate. I’d already packed her lunch, and her pale purple backpack was packed and resting against the wall next to the front door.
“There’s a costume contest after lunch today,” she said excitedly. “I can’t wait to see what my friends have dressed up as.”
“I’ll be looking out for the pictures on the class group later,” I replied, surprisingly being completely honest about it.
A lot had changed over the last two years. I now hardly wore anything that wasn’t casual, when I used to dress up just to go get coffee. My hair was always up, when it used to be blown out and styled on a daily basis even if I hadn’t been planning on leaving the house.
Back then, my professional star had been on the rise. I wasn’t even sure if it was even really in the sky anymore now, but having lost my muse was the least of my worries.