My cell phone and FaceBook account were chock-full of messages from reporters, family, friends, and complete strangers for months following my sister’s disappearance.
From Tofino, I did a couple of Skype interviews with news stations in Halifax. When in Halifax, held a few news conferences at the Mi’kmaq Friendship Centre. Close to the end of our search, my Aunt Barb, Jess, Kyle, Sabrina and I met with CTV to discuss a fundraising event we were planning to raise money to put up a reward. We felt great about it and headed back to the Loyola Building at Saint Mary’s.
I remember sitting in the passenger side of Kyle’s car as we passed the SMU Library entrance on Inglis. We were talking, laughing, discussing possibilities for the fundraiser when I received a text message from Det. Andy Pattison that read something like this:
“Hi Delilah, I have Yalcin here and we’d like to meet with you at Loyola”
My stomach dropped.
We turned onto Tower Road and approached Gorsebrook when I got a text message from CBC Toronto who said something along the lines of : “We’re very sorry to hear this has turned into a homicide investigation. We were wondering if you could speak to us this evening.”
They couldn’t know before us. It’s bullshit.
Later that evening the conclusion was that they had a film crew on site as they removed my sister from the snow. My intuition that she was too cold had proven to be true.
I feel weak and my stomach is turning over and over. I recognize the car with the deep colour of red in front of Rice residence and get Kyle to stop. I jump out and I run as fast as I can. I don’t want to hear what they have to say but no one had to say anything. Yalcin is limp and crying on the sidewalk. I hug and comfort him.
Seconds later I feel an animosity wash over me, an angry feeling that I’ve only felt twice before. At this particular instance, and when I first laid eyes on Blake in court. I became an animal. I was ready to tear flesh apart with my bare hands and crooked teeth. I was mad at this entirely unbelievable situation just playing out before my eyes, so I battled it.. hard.
I screamed, I growled and I could feel the pure hate and anger coursing in my blood as I sped down the corridor. I flexed my fists and yelled. When I got to our room, I went to the bathroom and cried.
I cried so hard. I spent a while in there screaming, crying, vomiting, defecating, and vomiting because I was defecating. When I could bring myself to leave the bathroom, I paced like a wild cat who was waiting to be fed. I asked Andy questions. They weren’t memorable. I couldn’t reiterate them if I wanted to, but the answers made me angrier and I punched a concrete wall. Punching the wall was stupid. I hurt my hand and I laughed and it brought a smile to a few faces.
I don’t remember much after this and I view that as a positive thing right now.
I thought I would cower and just cry if I was given this news. I surprised myself throughout all of this but it wasn’t so surprising to others who had already viewed me as a strong woman. I didn’t know my strength or what traits I had been handed.
I still feel Loretta’s strength and heart within my own. I feel connected.
In my next post, I’ll share the preparation for the journey home & Loretta’s funeral.
Until then I ask you, how do you think you’d react? Or how did you react?
Share your story, feedback or suggestions with me.