18 months ago today our son was killed in a car accident on his way to work on a rainy Monday morning.
18 months ago today the sheriff’s deputies banged on our front door, jarring me out of my sleep, to deliver the most horrendous news I’ve ever received from anyone in my life.
18 months ago today I saw, for the first of many times, deep grief and unbelieving shock on the faces of my four remaining children.
18 months ago today I made phone calls to my pastor, my mom, and my girlfriend to deliver news I did not for a second believe myself when I told them.
18 months ago today I met my husband in the side yard when he finally got home, and fell into his chest and said, “I don’t think we will live through this.”, and he held me and said, “Yes, we will.”
18 months ago today I found our oldest son doubled over between the open door and the side of his truck, sobbing. After finding him, I turned to see where his youngest brother was, and found him pacing in the driveway, also sobbing.
18 months ago today we were visited by a sergeant with the KC Police Dept. who was at the scene of his accident, and tried to listen as she explained what she thought happened to our son that morning. I remember her saying the pavement was wet and she scuffed her foot across our dining room floor as she said it. I remember thinking she was trying to find a reason to explain something that had no acceptable explanation – our 25 yr. old son was dead. What could she say that would be an acceptable explanation?
18 months ago today I sat on our front porch swing with my girlfriend, trying to sip a cup of coffee, and be comforted by one of my oldest friends. I can still hear her saying, “I hoped neither of us would ever have to walk this road.”
18 months ago today I found my girls in my youngest daughter’s bedroom, sitting on her bed, talking about and crying over the loss of their brother. I laid down on the floor and listened to them talk for a second. They said something about a comment he’d made, and I replied, “He was such a sweet little ass.”
18 months ago today I received a phone call from one of the nurses who worked on him at the hospital, asking me if I wanted to come see him.
18 months ago today our family traveled 40 minutes to the hospital he’d been taken to that morning and saw the lifeless body of a human being I’d given birth to 25 years before.
18 months ago today I sat at our dining room table with my husband, my parents and my older brother, and thanked God for the 25 years He allowed us to have our son here on the earth with us.
18 months ago today began this most unwanted and deeply despised journey called grief.
Today I’m still walking this unwanted and deeply despised road, but I’m beginning to heal in small, unexpected ways.
Today I can sit at my dining room table with my beloved, my children minus one, and my grandchildren, and smile at the abundant blessings God has blessed me with.
Today I can concentrate enough to drive anywhere without fear, although I do still “see” things I wish I wouldn’t.
Today I don’t wait with bated breath to get a phone call I wasn’t sure I’d get; I ignore the phone as often as not.
Today my girls and I talk, cry, laugh, talk some more, hug, giggle, gossip, shop, talk some more, see movies, and shop some more, just like we used to, but with an added note of sorrow, accompanied by a depth of understanding and compassion we didn’t have before. And, I’m sticking to my story that my middle son was the “sweetest little ass”.
Today my girlfriend is still walking this road with me, faithfully supporting me through it all. She, and many others, have been here for me, reassuring me, and reminding me of the faithfulness of God and the goodness in His creation.
Today I am so thankful for all the law enforcement officers who faithfully do one of the most difficult jobs on the planet day in and day out. They aren’t perfect, just like the rest of us, but they did their job well that day 18 months ago.
Today I see my precious sons getting through the most difficult thing they have ever had to live through, and becoming the young men I so hoped and prayed they would become. They are excellent young men any mother would be proud to call her sons. And, I am so proud of them. I believe their brother in heaven is proud of them, too.
Today my beloved and I are still holding each other up as we struggle through the most difficult and painful journey a parent has to take. He recently said something to me that describes our relationship, and this road, well. It was something like: “Together we brought our son into this world, and together we grieve the loss of our son.” “Together” being the operative word. “But at the beginning of creation God ‘made them male and female.’ ‘For this reason a man will leave his father and mother and be united to his wife, and the two will become one flesh.’ So they are no longer two, but one. Therefore what God has joined together, let man not separate.” Mark 10:6-9
Today I’m beginning to believe the horrific news I had to call my pastor, my mom and my girlfriend to deliver. Grieving an unexpected and tragic loss is a long and arduous road that is supposed to be leading us to acceptance of the loss. I am still sometimes at the “do I believe this really happened?” step. But, the healing process is going on, even when I am so down in the depths of despair I feel like I can’t breathe.
Today my children are also beginning to heal. I still see the pain from losing a beloved brother on their faces, but I also see hope and life in their beautiful faces. They are my greatest blessings and most cherished gifts from God.
Today, and every day, I am so thankful for my husband who can do just about anything to a house! He installed a door bell for me a couple of weeks after our son passed away, so I would never have to hear someone banging on my front door like those sheriff’s deputies did, again.
18 months ago today our son was killed in a car accident on his way to work on a rainy Monday morning. Today his earthly body is lying in a grave a few miles from our home. But, today I also know that his precious spirit – my son himself – is alive and well in his heavenly home, one day to be reunited with his glorified body. On that day, I too, will be reunited with my son. Better yet, I will get to see, face to face, my savior Who made this possible by laying down His life, in glory and here on the earth.
“Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth; for the first heaven and the first earth passed away, and there is no longer any sea. And I saw the holy city, new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, made ready as a bride adorned for her husband. And I heard a loud voice from the throne, saying, ‘ Behold, the tabernacle of God is among men, and He will dwell among them, and they shall be His people, and God Himself will be among them, and He will wipe away every tear from their eyes; and there will no longer be any death; there will no longer be any mourning, or crying, or pain; the first things have passed away.'” Revelation 21:1-4