My son died. It’s been three weeks since I’ve written, and two and half since he died. Mostly, I don’t know what to say. It was a horrible car accident, and in the hours that followed we waited to hear if he was dead or alive. In the days, and now weeks that followed we prepared his funeral and said good byes. The news of his death spread to effect a wide community of people.
He was loved, he was always smiling, and most of all, he loved well. He lived life to the fullest. Everyone was family to him. He was the protective big brother to so many people. He was a son, and boyfriend, and a heart to his sports teams.
He was 8 days short of turning 17. He did not have an easy life. He worked hard to get where he was, and become better than he had be taught. He worried about grades, as he made plans to become a forensic annalist, then join the military. He played his heart out on the football field, and on the wrestling mat.
I was not his mother by birth. I became his mom through love. I fell in love with him, as a tiny boy learning to walk. I fell in love with his dad, and we married. I took care of him, and loved him as though he was always a part of me. Because really, he was. I loved him as he grew into a man. Late night talks, and texting, and so many sports events brought me closer to him. There were a few years that we were absent from his life, and they were such hard years. But, when he let me in, he did it with a fierce love that will never be matched.
In the days that have followed his death I have seen traumatic things that no parent should ever have to see. I have made plans, and bought reminders for family members, and fought battles to see my son honored. I have wadded through so much grief, and so many questions. I have ended rumors, and been targeted, because everyone needs a place for their anger to land.
Normal life has been hard to get back to. How do you do normal when part of your heart, your family, is missing forever? I don’t know. But we are trying to learn. Sometimes I take life one hour at a time. I make plans, and cancel them, or leave early. I wear out quickly, and I still don’t sleep well at night. My heart aches all of the time. The loss of a child is something no one can handle well. But, I keep trying. I keep going. I am slowly adding back into my day the things I need to do; work, home school, appointments, and fun with friends.
We take things in pieces, because we are in pieces.