About two months after Gordie died, the investigation came to an end. The Sergeant in charge of the investigation called me and told me he and the Coroner were ready to meet with the family. I asked him for a preview of what they would tell us. He told me that they had ruled out homicide but had no other answers. They were unable to figure out exactly how Gordie got into the pool on that day in March and why he was not able to get out. I hung up the phone and screamed into my pillow.

Are you fucking kidding me? I thought

Nobody knows why I lost my husband?

Nobody can tell me how my young sons lost their Dad?

I grabbed my running shoes and told my Mom I needed to run. As I was running the tears streamed down my face. It seemed like the only thought in my head matched the rhythmic sounds of my feet hitting the pavement. “How did he die? How did he die? How did he die?” I was so angry and so frustrated and all I could do was run. I wanted to throw myself down on the sidewalk and scream, kick, and pound like a toddler.

As I was making my way back home, I realized that I would have to spend the rest of my life wondering how my husband died. My last thought as I walked up my parents’ court was “Fuck You God”.

The following day, I left work early and drove by myself to the County Sheriff’s office.   Gordie’s family met me there. We were led into a conference room where we sat at a large table. The Sergeant in charge of the investigation was there along with his boss, the coroner on the case and the Chief Coroner. I sat at that big table with my hands folded in my lap, wondering once again how this was my life.

There were two huge binders in front of the Sergeant in charge of the investigation. I could not stop staring at them.

In addition to ruling out homicide during the two months that had passed since Gordie died, the Sheriff’s department had also ruled out suicide as a cause of Gordie’s death. The toxicology report showed no signs of alcohol or drugs in Gordie’s body. The autopsy, which we had received days after Gordie died, had also shown that Gordie had heart disease, something we had never known. Gordie had an EKG for life insurance purposes 18 months before he died. Nothing was ever mentioned. I would come to find out later that EKGs rarely show anything of substance.

The Sergeant cleared his throat and said “I wish that we could tell you exactly how Gordie died but we can’t. We have ruled out homicide and suicide as causes. But other than that, we just have not been able to determine how he ended up in the pool and how he died. Our best guess is that the heart disease we found in the autopsy caused some sort of arrhythmia and he then fell into the pool and could not get out. “

Our best guess? I thought. Our best guess? Are you fucking kidding me?  I wanted to scream.

Gordie’s sister asked some questions. I just sat there dazed. At one point the Sheriff referenced the two big binders as he answered Gordie’s sister’s question. They contained the notes from the investigation. I looked at the binders. That was a lot of notes.

Our best guess???

Finally, I looked at the Coroner.

“Do you think Gordie suffered?” I asked.

The Coroner paused and then said “I do not know. It’s possible. It’s also possible that he was so out of it, he did not know what was going on. It’s also possible that he was dead before he slipped in to the pool. Heart arrhythmia can cause something as light as dizziness and as strong as death. But it does not leave a marker detectable in an autopsy like a heart attack. So, our best guess is that the incident was caused by heart arrhythmia but we can’t speculate beyond that. “

I wanted to throw up. All I wanted to hear was that Gordie had not suffered but nobody would ever be able to tell me that. Ever.

The meeting was just about to come to a close when the Coroner said “Mrs Ball, given the heart disease we found in your husband’s autopsy, we recommend you get your sons’ hearts checked.”

My eyes widened and I felt the blood drain from my face.

“What?”, I asked. “My sons’ hearts…?” I stammered.  I was discombobulated.

“Yes. The type of heart disease we found in your husband can be hereditary. The boys need to be checked”, the Coroner said.

I followed Gordie’s family out of the room. I said good-bye and headed to my car. I drove home on autopilot. It was like two phrases were on a continuous loop in my head.

Our best guess. Your sons need to be checked. Our best guess. Your sons need to be checked. Our best guess. Your sons need to be checked.

 I got home, hastily put on my running clothes, and tore out the front door. I ran hard and fast all the way to the entrance of Mount Diablo, crying and gasping for breath. When I reached the entrance, I could barely breathe. I stopped, sat down on the curb, and put my head in my hands. I was sobbing.

Nobody will ever be able to tell me how he died and if he suffered.

Oh god, what if there is something wrong with my boys’ hearts?

I sat there on that curb for a while and just cried. When I was done, I wiped my eyes and nose, and ran back home. I felt numb. As I ran, the image of those two binders slid into my mind.

What was in them?   Were there more answers in them? Were there things that only I would understand?

Five years later, I still wish I had gone back and read every page of those binders.