Part 22: Klaus Henrik Kurki

 I'm sitting on the stairs at our house in Salmo. Jill, Holly and I have burst into song, singing "The Lions Sleep Tonight" and I'm taking a video of it. I have a massive mosquito bite on my eyelid and my grandma recommended I use toothpaste to ease the itching. So I have toothpaste smeared all over my eyelid. We're singing and laughing and I am trying to numb the pain of Hans' sudden departure. Suddenly, my mom runs outside in a panic. She has received a text that her dad has collapsed and is unresponsive. 

I can still hear her cry, visualize her face, feel the hot August heat on my face as I stand outside to hear about what is happening. We were six hours from Abbotsford, where my grandpa was lying unconscious in the hospital. He had a heart attack and collapsed outside and was taken by ambulance to the hospital. It was utter chaos. Because of the lack of cell reception, my mom was just trying to call somebody to find out what was happening but she wasn't able to get through. She was panicking so hard, I had no idea where my dad was, I had toothpaste on my eye. Everyone was everywhere. My dads dad eventually said, "Okay, we're going to say a family prayer, get the car packed and you guys will leave to get home." When the chaos subsides, it's quiet as we pray. I have no idea what is going to happen. 

We start on our way home and my grandpa is stable. It's a six hour drive home and we were all feeling so worried. We were split into two cars and I don't remember who was where but Manda and Ethan were in a different car and I was with my parents. I hear my mom crying quietly and she says, "I'm really not ready for my dad to die." I'm not ready for him to die either. I hadn't lost a grandparent yet. We pit stop for lunch but when we get going again, my mom lets out a gasp and a wail like I have never heard. She has received a text message from her sister that says that he is going to die. He has had a massive heart attack and they can't get him back. She starts to wail uncontrollably as my dad tries to calm her while also driving. A couple minutes later we hear that the machines were turned off and he was declared dead. My dad pulls into a gas station to comfort my mom. I remember feeling like I had to escape the noise. It was too loud and it was too sad and I felt sick. 

I jump out of the car and go tell the siblings in the other car that he's gone. I run into the gas station, struggling to breathe, tears down my face. I run into the bathroom and vomit. This is not real. We still had a five and a half hour drive ahead of us and my mom was inconsolable. When I make my way back outside, my family is standing in a circle in the parking lot. Everyone is sobbing and takes turns hugging my mom. We all hug each other. I have yet to feel as close to them as I did in this moment. I was so lucky to have them. After some time, we get into our cars and make our way home. We were going to go right to my moms parents house to be with family. My mom cries for the entire drive while my dad tries to talk her through grounding exercises. I keep getting waves of nausea as I hear my mom go from quietly whimpering to guttural wails. I lean my head against the window and try to sleep. 

Six hours later, we arrive back to Abbotsford and reunite with my moms family. It is unlike anything I have experienced. These women were my rocks. They didn't usually cry. We sat around crying asking ourselves how something like this could happen so suddenly and quickly. My moms sister Anita was stuck on the other side of the border because of the pandemic and she couldn't get here. I leave the room to go walk around the house and I see his things.  My grandmas house is small and everywhere I looked were reminders of him. I saw a bowl of nuts that he had been eating earlier that day, his glasses on top of a book in his bedroom, his art supplies and a photo of him in the newspaper displaying his art. He was just here, yet I don't remember the last conversation I had with him. Because of covid restrictions the interactions were few over the past few months. We have so many memories with him. Like when he showed us his dance moves. Or when we sang "Be Still, My Soul" and he would cry. How he would always turn on Mr. Bean and feed us crackers with butter. I remember posing for him to paint my portrait and he told me to hold my stuffed animal or else he would feel left out. I remember the time I ran full speed into a closed sliding door and was propelled backwards (I was really excited about the Olympic opening ceremonies) he sat with me and held an ice pack to my head. I didn't remember the last thing he said to me, but I knew I wasn't ready for him to be gone. 

Wasn't I just crying over a dumb boy yesterday? I felt like my entire world was over because Hans liked Louise better than he liked me? He doesn't matter. She doesn't matter. The only relationships that matter are family. I couldn't believe I wasted so many tears on someone so insignificant. My family matters the most to me and we were going to have to all pull together to help my mom get through this. We loved my grandpa so much and we miss him everyday.