RIP Donna Festa

I can't tell you how horrible I feel for forgetting about this. How could I forget what happened last year on February 2nd? Why didn't I realize that this was the reason Katie was absent today? Gosh. Today I was freaking out because I left my iPod in my gym locker and I had to run back and risk being late for my next class to get it. I was freaking out because the groundhog apparently saw his shadow, meaning six more weeks of winter, and I started getting nervous about my biology quiz tomorrow. For the first time in a month or two I was feeling really depressed about Tyler, the kind of depressed where you chest feels like there's a boulder inside of it and you can't focus your mind on anything because it always wanders back to the thing that's making you depressed.
I was feeling all of that, and then I realized what today was, and now I feel stupid for remotely caring about my iPod or a groundhog or the biology quiz. Last year, one of my best friends from elementary school, her mom was killed in a car accident. The one I had been best friends with, Katie, she was sleeping over a friend's house, and her younger sister, mother, and father were taking their dogs to an appointment. While stopped at a red light at an intersection, they were hit by a truck driving about 90 miles per hour. Donna Festa died almost immediately, and the younger sister had a concussion and broke everything below her lower back. My family was one of the first to find out because one of my dad's best friends, who is a fireman, was called to the scene. I knew what he meant when he said, "I don't think Donna made it," but my mind wasn't comprehending it. I wasn't feeling anything until I turned on the news at 6 and saw their Jeep, absolutely and completely crushed, on the side of the road. Even then, I couldn't cry. I don't understand why, but I still wasn't feeling much.
Until the wake.
I was nervous because I have a fear of opening up in public, and I didn't want to cry. I did alright, keeping composure, even as we passed the posterboards covered with pictures of Donna. I was okay when I shook Pat Festa's hand, and okay with all the other relatives, and I thought I would be alright when I got to Katie. We hadn't talked in a long time so I didn't know what to say, and when someone loses their mother so unexpectedly, "I'm sorry for your loss" doesn't even begin to cover it. I almost opened my mouth to say something along those lines, but out of nowhere she hugged me so tight I couldn't breathe, and we sobbed together. I don't remember starting to cry, I just remember pulling away and realizing I was bawling. I don't remember much after that except for sitting in one of the chairs and asking my mother when we could leave. I don't remember the funeral either, except that Liz Tillman ran up to me, crying, in the parking lot, and we sobbed some more, hugging each other.
I cannot believe I almost forget what today meant.
Studying for biology seems so insignificant at this moment.