When one drawer closes..

What do cats, siblings, furniture, and death all have in common?

(Grammar and whatnot is a bit off on this writing due to the nature of it being more of a journal piece for Vocal's "I Wrote This" Challenge.)

Intro

Well, you know how a lot of couples have the "the hamper is right there, Just put it in the hamper!" pet peeve? Well, my husband had that with me, except that it was "Babe, again? Just close the drawers!" I had a habit of leaving drawers open- even if it was just a little crack, and I didn't know why. That is, until my daughter brought up a random topic of conversation- my first experience with death.

Meow

Most of my childhood included living in various trailers with multiple siblings. Therefore, there was always something going on. That "something" at this point in time was that our cat had birthed 4 kittens! And how ironic, there were 4 kids in the house. Since then, we kids seemed to always be toting around one of the kittens, giving them those little squeaky voices, or generally just playing around with them almost as if they were toys. No permission needed. We just took them along for whatever our imagination had in store for us that day. We really didn't even realize that they wouldn't be ours forever... well, at least I didn't.

A Child's Mind

Another significant piece of this true story is that we had just moved into a new trailer, so most of the rooms were still bare. I can't remember how old my brothers were at the time, but they were too young to know better, and one of them wanted to give one of the kittens a cozy day. You see, back then, we all enjoyed stuffing ourselves into little tight corners, making tents , or pretending like we had little "hidden rooms." Why would Snowy be any different?

Roller Coaster of Emotions

I was taking turns between unpacking and running around wildly when I spotted a set of built in dresser drawers like I had never seen before. We didn't have much growing up so built-in drawers in a trailer was my idea of cool design at that age, ok? Anyways, imagine a young spirited girl just freaking out about some drawers that seemed to magically be protruding out of the wall. Yes, I was easily amused.

I opened the first drawer to expose most aesthetically pleasing, lightly colored wood in perfect those rows, just waiting to hold all my goodies. I loved the emptiness of it for some reason…or maybe that’s just how I feel now. Then, I opened the second. Then,the third, when- surprise! One of the kittens had already claimed the spot as its own. Aww, snowy, so cute.

I started laughing at the cute little baby sleeping in the drawer. I picked it up (squealing about the cute baby) but instantly dropped it. Thud. An unnatural thud that seemed to echo throughout the room. To my shock, it wasn’t the warm fuzz my mind was expecting. My mind just flipped through facts that it didn't process:

“It didn’t move.”

"It didn’t bend."

"It was... hard."

"Kitten" and then things that just didn't go together. It was shock that didn’t make sense in my mind.

Me, yelling my stepmom's name. My stepmom comes in and within seconds, “she just knew.” Some angry curse words and me just being in fear and confusion. Stepmom leaves. Comes back with my dad. Commotion. My dad pulls me aside and tells me, "Snowy died from suffocation." Me still being confused wondering.

"Why did you do that, Snowy?

Why did you go in there?"

Still wondering how my stepmom knew so fast. Didn’t they have to check for a pulse? Do cats not get C.P.R.? I was still wondering late that night, “How did she just know?”

Apparently, one of my brothers had closed the kitten in there to be cozy and cute, completely unaware that it would suffocate. We buried the kitten in our yard, and I honestly don’t remember what happened to the rest of those kittens. The next day, I told my friends about what had happened. When I went to tell them that we buried the kitten in the yard, I accidentally said, “We buried the kitten in the drawer.” My mind was still scatterbrained, and I had nightmares about finding that white kitten. I never wanted to go by those drawers again.

Fast Forward to The Duplex House

Some time after the kitten incident, my dad and my stepmom had a third baby boy, and they all lived in a depressing grayish-blueish duplex house, but my sister and I lived with our mom. (That's a whole 'nother story.) On June 6th, the baby died at only 6 weeks old. I only remember that because my stepmom was convinced the devil had something to do with it, because those numbers translate to the devil's number, June 6th at 6 weeks old: 666. The devil or SIDS, whichever way you want to look at it: My brother was gone.

My sister and I never got to go to his funeral, because of a weird misunderstanding of where we lived...yeah, very stable childhood over here. Therefore, we never got that visual or closure that someone would usually have, which may have played a role in my upcoming thoughts.

My dad and stepmom moved out of the grayish-blueish house because they could not handle living where my brother had died. My stepmom kept thinking she saw his ghost. I never went inside the duplex, but I watched them carrying things out. I saw them carry out a vintage-looking side table with a drawer on it.

Even though I never went inside the duplex, every time we would pass, the person driving would point and say something like:

“Right there, past those doors, is where he died.”

“That is where they woke up and found him dead.”

I also heard random details from my parents of how they woke up, "just found him dead."

"Just found him dead," seemed to be a repeating echo in my mind.

My Nightmares Return

My nightmares made a comeback, and in them, I was young again and I was in the blueish grayish duplex. There was only darkness, dust, and the antique drawer I had seen my dad carrying out but painted the same grayish-blueish color as the exterior of the duplex, which made it all the more disturbing. It’s almost as if I was dreaming in a deep vignette, the borders completely darkened, but the drawers in focus.

The drawers only got older, dustier, darker, with the paint peeling and litter around it.

When I reached and I opened the drawer, I found death inside once again... but not a cat this time-my baby brother was in the drawer. Then, I would run through the same feelings and shock that I had with the kitten, but with my brother this time. This dream happened more than once. Always with those old drawers.

After that, I just left drawers open-even if just a crack. Reason said I could close it, but that bang of it closing sounded like a disturbing slam.

Connections

You see, the kitten memory was the only experience I had with death in a way that I actually saw. Being young and having had never seen a dead person before, along with not being able to attend my brother’s funeral, somehow made my brain mix these two things together.

I didn't even realize that it had manifested in my 30s, until I moved in with my husband and he pointed it out-and then the daughter question. I can't say that this reveal made me feel emotional, but it did serve as a specific reminder that more often than not, there are reasons as to why we do the things we do. Reasons that guide our behaviors. Some we don't even know about. And a reminder of the multitude of stories that humans can have. And yes, I close the drawers now- most of the time.

(PS- Rest in peace Snowy and Aaron. I hope, if anything, in some strange turn of events, you two are cuddling and playing together somewhere magical.)