Frightened, my trembling, sweaty hand could barely grasp the doorknob as I entered the room that would soon change my life. The red and yellow leaves that clung to my jacket, fell about the floor as I made my way into the room. It felt like I had just plunged into a dungeon as the door slammed behind me. As I entered into the room, a chill went through me all the way down to my bones. I pulled my jacket tight around my body. Next, the smell hit me. Trying to avoid the smell, I started to breath through my mouth. Overhead there were buzzing lights, in a room that was windowless and grey and very bare. An examination table, some filing cabinets, a desk chair, and a small desk with a few papers, a clipboard, and a pen made up the minimal furnishings. There was also another chair next to the desk which I assumed was for unlucky and scared visitors like myself.
Then I turned and noticed what looked like a wall of mini refrigerator doors. My brain started spinning, I couldn't comprehend that I was actually here. Was it a big mistake? How could my husband be dead? We were having such a great life together..
A coroner came out of a back room as I was about to turn and leave. He could tell that I was on the verge of collapsing. Fortunately, he asked me to sit down, and told said, "Hi, I am Jose Martinez. Can I go over some questions with you?"
"What is your name?" asked Jose.
"My name is Julie Liz Piper." I responded.
Jose then asked "Can I see your license?" When I gave it to him, he checked off something on the clipboard.
Professionally, he asked, "Is your husband John Chris Piper?"
In a trembling voice, I responded, "Yes."
Calmly, he asked, "How old is he?"
Shaking I responded, "35."
"What is his birthday?"
"June 9, 1981."
Then he asked, "Do you have a picture of your husband?"
Everywhere I go, I carry my wedding photo with me. My wedding day was one of the happiest days of my life. Looking at the photo usually made me smile, but today was different. When I handed him the photo, and he handed me a tissue.
"When did you last see your husband?" asked Jose.
Thinking back, I told him, "This morning I put our daughter down for a nap and went outside to rake leaves. My husband came out of the house and told me that he needed to unwind and was going for a run."
Jose took notes. After, he finished he responded, "I need you to visually confirm your husband's body. Do you think you can handle that?" For some reason my head began nodding yes.
We then went to a morgue refrigerator and he opened the door. Slowly he pulled out the slab. Was it him, the love of my life under the white sheet? Gradually he pulled it back like he wanted to me give a heart attack.
He asked me, "Is this him?"
It was my husband or at least it sort of looked liked a version of him. Just a much paler version of him and so stiff. I could not talk, so I just nodded my head. Outside is where I needed to be, breathing in the fresh air, hearing the birds chirp, needing to know that everything was going to be fine. But how could things ever be right again? Not without him, things could never be right again without him. Most of all, I felt like there was no hope. While I was sitting back down, I heard the door open. A young lady entered and started
speaking with Jose. Then he told me, "This is your grief counselor who will help you through this horrible situation."
I looked at him quickly, "A total stranger is going to help me. How is that possible? She didn't know him and she never will. How can she ever understand the loss I feel?"
