Kathleen A. Gagne

Kathie Gagne died 4,756 days ago.

October 4th, 1991 @ 12:00 pm

At the beginning of October in my freshman year of college, I had my wisdom teeth removed by students at the University of Florida College of Dentistry. It was a disaster. After the surgery I was completely unconscious for hours and the doctors couldn’t revive me. (I was simply asleep; not in any sort of danger or anything.) They called mom and she drove the hundred miles to come get me and take me home. When I finally woke up the next day and found myself at home, I was very upset and felt like I’d been kidnapped from college. Of course it was ridiculous of me to think that; I’d probably do the same thing she did in that situation. But we ended up having a huge fight about it, which was undoubtedly much worse because I was stoned on painkillers. This is the letter she wrote me the next day.

Mad Money

September 22nd, 1991 @ 12:00 pm

Mom sent me a check on her 43rd birthday. (I have no recollection of the amount.) Included was this short note on her Garfield stationery.

A Loan

September 18th, 1991 @ 12:00 pm

Mom wrote me this in a greeting card during my first semester of college. There is a laughing cartoon cat on the front of the card being carried through the clouds hanging onto a pack of heart-shaped balloons. The note on the inside is, “Love you bunches!!” and there was also a small paper on business-card stock with “YOU’RE THE GREATEST” inside the card.

Obsessed

September 15th, 1991 @ 12:00 pm

Here’s another rather long letter mom wrote me during my first semester away at college. She wrote me almost every day and I wish I’d saved them all. In this one she details how hard she’s trying (and failing) to make ends meet, a common theme. Sadly I must have lost the “bigoted and sexist joke” she enclosed; I probably taped it to the wall of my dorm room.

Worries

September 10th, 1991 @ 12:00 pm

Mom was terribly worried during my first few years of college that I was going to turn into a raging alcoholic. I partied quite a bit, but I don’t think dramatically more so than the average college kid away from home for the first time. Either way, now that I’m a parent I can certainly understand her fears. And I’ll admit I did a lot of stupid things back then.

Rearranging Things

September 9th, 1991 @ 12:00 pm

Mom sent me this letter about reorganizing my closet shortly after I left for college. It’s funny now to think about what a daunting task it must have been for her to try to deal with the disastrous mess of a teenage boy’s junk. I can still remember how precariously I’d balanced boxes of comics and old toys and clothes in there. She’s lucky she wasn’t crushed.

I should note that I have no idea who Wayne and Tom are; they must have been coworkers of hers.

Timelines

September 5th, 1991 @ 12:00 pm

Mom loved tennis. She loved football and basketball and baseball and every other sport, too. But she really loved tennis. When she was trapped at Coastal Rehab I made sure she had a great TV in her room and every time I called I told them to make sure it was showing ESPN or the Tennis Channel. They never did, though, even ignoring the note I taped to it saying not to change the channel unless she asked.

She wrote me this letter shortly after I left for college and I distinctly remember – even decades later – how proud (and jealous) I was of my sister’s artistic skills.

Labor Day

September 2nd, 1991 @ 10:00 pm

Mom wrote me this letter after I’d come home to visit for the Labor Day weekend during my first semester away at college. She dedicated quite a bit of it to describing a tennis match; it helps to explain my own love of sports.

I am not sure what the deal was with “the car seat”; it sounds like we had been arguing about something, but why either of us might have been upset about a car seat is beyond me.

I also have no idea who Mary Ellen from Atlanta is. (If anyone knows, please drop me a line or leave a comment.)

Drama at Work

August 28th, 1991 @ 12:00 pm

Aug. 28, 1991
Dear David,

How’s your day going, love? Great, I hope.

I got to work early and thought I’d just drop you a quickie for Friday. Can’t wait to see you. Jenny has really missed you alot (I gotta quit writing so fast) – I hope you can find some special time for her when you’re home. Uh oh – I guess we’d better clean out your room …

Don’t forget what I said about those “blow-off”? classes – make sure you get those A’s. You never know when you’re going to run into material or a situation or a professor that will make those easy A’s a necessity.

Are you planning on bringing Anil home some time?

They let Jane go yesterday. In his usual un-people-person manner, Tom didn’t do it the way I would have. (He tries, I think; it’s just a question of not knowing how). He met with Julie for breakfast and told her about Jane. Naturally, Julie got really upset. Then he voice-mailed Jane but she didn’t come in until 1:00. It seems pretty clear that Julie had said something to her before she got here, but I don’t know for sure. The painful part for me is that Tom said they both asked him if it was based on things I said. He told me that he told them both it was his decision, based on the market performance, etc. and that, if anything, I had defended Jane all along. I still feel badly about it all, and I don’t really know how I’ll feel about Julie knowing she made that comment. It’s funny. Julie and I have had some pretty serious discussions about our lives and all, and I guess I thought she, at least, would have known me better than that. At least Patty seems to think I would not have done that.

I don’t know, David, I’m not perfect. Jane’s nasty temper, deliberate sarcasm, phony sweetness, insults, etc., were all disturbing. Maybe some of the things I said did contribute to Tom’s decision. Or maybe they just confirmed his own perception, and Charles’ and Bruce Crandall’s and Wanda’s and Ed Baker’s. …

All we can do is try, right?

I decided I really, really want cable in my bedroom so I don’t fall asleep on the couch so often. Anyway, last night after we got home from Nana’s, I started fooling around with what we already have. I remembered that the one of the dining room was long, and, ta da, it actually easily reaches the living room TV. (I just have to conceal it somehow. Anyway, the one into the living room almost reaches my bedroom if I pull it out the wall and string it along the outside of the house. I guess that, if there is a way to splice or connect it somehow, I’ll have to buy just a few feet to make it work. Then, if we really want it in the dining room, it will just mean another few feet. Damn, I’m good!

Hey, I’d better get to work. David, you’ll never, ever know how much I love you. Take care of yourself – whoever’s driving home better be careful!

Love,
Mom

Stress Over Work

August 27th, 1991 @ 7:36 am

There was always some political drama at work with mom. Regardless of where she was employed, it seems, someone (or some group) was annoyed with her because she refused to fudge numbers or ignore incompetence or perceived injustice.

I don’t recall buying her a Gators insulated coffee mug for $2.50; I probably did not, and reading about it now makes me feel like a terrible son.