If you have 17 minutes, it’s worth your time to watch that.
Brian finally came home yesterday. Around 9:30am, I got a call from the lead investigator that he was ready to release the final two pieces of evidence to me. I had been waiting for 5.5 months for the remains of his phone and the water bottle he was drinking from the night he died. A friend of mine drove me to meet the investigator at 11:30 and, in a matter of a few short minutes, it was the end. Two signatures and a handshake. The end.
The metal water bottle is still 1/2 way full with the last thing he drank while still alive. I was very tempted to open it up and drink from it, just to have one more moment of contact with his lips. And, frankly, it was a very tense moment and I really could have used the drink. I didn’t do it.
I am rather conflicted in my feelings about this. On one hand, I’m grateful that the state no longer has possession of anything of Brian’s. For those of you who knew him, you know how much he would have hated having his personal belongings in the hands of any law enforcement. I’m also glad that this means that I won’t have to continually be anxious when my phone rings, I won’t have to worry about the police showing up at my door anymore, I won’t have to wonder what happened to his things. On the other hand, this also means that they are done hunting, done searching, done investigating and I still have more questions than answers. I will never have the answers. I guess that’s just the way life is. Apparently, death can be that way, too.
While none of this has been easy, it’s traumatic to have no answers. It’s agonizing that I didn’t get to see him, I don’t know what he looked like. I don’t know what his last words were. I don’t know what happened to cause my husband’s death. I know HOW he died, but I don’t know why or what started it. I hoped and hoped and hoped that there would be answers and maybe someday there will be, but right now it’s not looking like it. I wanted the investigators and the crime lab techs and the medical examiners to keep digging, keep searching, keep hunting until they found answers. I guess I don’t know what I wanted them to find. It’s another catch-22. Knowing someone hurt him would be horrific, but knowing it was an accident leaves me no one to blame and no hope for justice.
In the end, no one wins.