Skip to main content

Two years ago today...

Two years ago today, your life as we knew it ended. Two years ago today, I fell to my knees in light of the horror that my precious child was burned in a horrific explosion. I begged for mercy, pleaded for your life, and crumbled in the fear of your death. I still see you there on that gurney, under those lights, waiting for the airplane to take to you to Shands. The weather so bad, we had to wait for it to pass and take you by fixed wing plane. Your dad and I arrived at Shands before you, waiting for hours in the emergency room for you to arrive.  Finally, there, again another little room where they tell you all the things you fear the most.  When I saw you again, I wretched and vomited for your body was so desecrated; my beautiful, wonderful, precious child lay there burned, dying and there was nothing I could do to help you, to ease your pain, to comfort you.  For twenty one days, you fought that battle my precious son, like the brave warrior that we raised, like the source of your name, Little Warrior. For twenty one days, surgeries, skin grafts, collapsed lungs, failing kidneys, blood transfusions…whatever archaic or futuristic thing could be thought of…you fought.  You fought. You fought, but death always wins.

We spent Christmas by your side, Elizabeth made sure you had a tree in your room.  There were no gifts to share, no words exchanged, only hope that one day you would again be in our world, whole, able to play and fish and live and love like all good boys should be able to do. We hoped. We prayed. We cried.  We begged.  We pleaded. But death always wins.

Those people, those wretched, horrible people, who used you without thought for your safety or your welfare, abandoning all regard for law and even for that of basic humanity, for all that is good and right; those people who so selfishly and thoughtlessly took you from this world, I will not be able to forgive them. I cannot forgive them, they took too much from me, too much from us, from this world. Their recklessness, their negligence, their selfishness, their lies and their treatment of the accident and your death with such casualness, for that I shall harbor a hatred in my heart as deep and powerful as my love for you until the day I take my last breath. 

My beautiful boy so kind and generous,
My precious child that brought me light and joy and showed me how to live,
My wonderful son who gave me meaning, purpose and hope,
 I love you so my beautiful boy, my precious child, my wonderful son.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Seeing God Where I am

O God, who created all peoples in your image, we thank you for the wonderful diversity of races and cultures in this world. Enrich our lives by ever-widening circles of fellowship, and show us your presence in those who differ most from us, until our knowledge of your love is made perfect in our love for all your children; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.   Carolyn A. Rose I've had the distinct privilege in life to have traveled to various places, some vastly different from my home, and some quite similar.  Regardless of the magnitude of differences, I can always feel the uniqueness of the place. After a while, certainly I long for the familiar comfort of home... but I always return with a fuller heart and a more open mind. Then it's like a siren song calling me back to seek more, ask more, learn more and inwardly digest it to build me into a more understanding and compassionate being.  In a class I am taking, we were posed this question: How have ...
Post a Comment
Read more

God Moment

I was thinking of when I created this blog and named it.... Living with Loss, I knew I would have to live with this loss, but at that time I wasn't living, I was surviving. It was a goal of sorts… but also a mission to keep breathing. It is only now, over six years since the death of my son that I have begun to know how to live again. The sharpness of those first months and years have softened and the pangs of grief strike less frequently, though when they do they rage with vengeance. What a journey of emotion these past six and half years have been from overwhelming and consuming grief, disbelief and shock, depression and fear, finally acceptance and the incorporation of the loss into our lives.  I remember in the first months after Wyatt's death, I would walk through the house and tell myself he had gone on a very long trip to a place far, far away. He was unable to contact me and I unable to contact him. I later learned counselors think this is a poor method for ...
5 comments
Read more

That Dust again...

The death of an only child leaves an indelible mark on the soul. There is a vacant place in living that is never filled, never eased. I know that now; if I live to be 110, it will be true then. When your only child dies it's one thing, when your only child dies before he had children of his own, it's another thing.  I'm not saying any loss of a child is greater than another; on the contrary, they all come with unique challenges. It's just that that when life prances around shouting "look at me, look at me" with the young boy walking around the lake holding his mom's hand, grandma tucking her granddaughter in at night, graduation ceremonies and proms, tournaments, plays and recitals, weddings, new jobs, and babies, they all make it so painfully clear how my time with all of that is over. Stolen. With most things in this life we have a choice, but not this. This is not my choice. This is so different from something we choose, it's not what job to take or...
2 comments
Read more