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Monday, September 21, 2009

In Memory of My Son . . . and, then, we knew

Continued from here

The phone rang, once again, just before midnight. My husband answered. Then, all I heard was silence.

I watched him, though, as he collapsed onto the couch. His head fell down to his chest. His shoulders curled over his legs. And he buried his head into the space in between.

I knew Eric was gone.
I was frozen!

Between the cries of pain, my husband let out a muffled, "no!" escalating in audibility as he lifted his head up,

"no . . . No . . . NO!"

"It was him!"

"Eric is dead!"

"My son is GONE!"

"What have you done, Eric?!?"

"What have you done?!?"

I wrapped my self around him, and we just cried for what seemed like an eternity.

I recall him saying, "I failed him, Angela! I failed my son!"

He, again, flew to Texas . . . to bury his son. I wanted to go! Brandon and Koby wanted to go, too. We wanted to say our good-byes. We couldn't, though.

I had stayed behind with the boys, racked with guilt over missing Eric's phone call that one particular morning.

What if he was reaching out to me?

What if he needed someone to talk to?

If only I had answered, instead of rushing off to Wisconsin . . . maybe, just maybe . . . he might still be here with us.

There are a million 'what ifs' and 'if onlys' that have crossed my mind over the last two and a half years. I cannot help but feel like I could have saved him . . . if only.

Every day, every minute, every hour, I just keep reminding myself to take it one day at a time. Time will never heal all wounds, but it does get easier . . . somewhat, anyway.

I let the sadness out when I need to.
I let the angry words fly at times.
I cry.
I scream.
I shut down.
I lock myself away from it all.

I go on.
We go on.
One day at a time.

We remember the good.
We honor him.
We feel his convictions.

We remind ourselves:

Breathe in.
Breathe out . . .


~*~ Melissa ~*~ September 21, 2009 at 12:28 PM  

I'm so sorry to hear about your loss. It will never go away, but it does get easier in time.

Jennifer-Eighty MPH Mom September 21, 2009 at 1:14 PM  

There are just no words...I am so sorry...

Quadmama September 21, 2009 at 2:11 PM  

I am so sorry. My thoughts are with you.

Michael September 21, 2009 at 6:50 PM  

Jesus Christ on a popsicle stick.


I'm currently at sharp edges with my 13 year old, and I will keep you in mind as I try to keep from leaving him by the side of the road.

Thank you for sharing what must have been a horribly burdensome story to lay out.

Manda September 21, 2009 at 9:29 PM  

I am so sorry! My heart breaks and the eyes flood. I wish I could just hug you. I am so sorry!

Tracey September 23, 2009 at 11:15 PM  

"...there is nothing we can do with suffering except to suffer it? Who still thinks there is some device (if only I could find it) which will make pain not to be pain. It doesn't really matter whether you grip the arms of the dentist's chair or let your hands lie in your lap. The drill drills on." A Grief Observed, C.S. Lewis.

I lifted up a prayer for you and your family. Blessings, Tracey

Nurse Mommy September 24, 2009 at 12:19 AM  

big hugs!!! Sept 18, 2005 we lost my cousin to suicide. It is a hard thing to face, it challenges your beliefs.....but we must go on and remember the good time. I am so sorry for your loss!

Tellie September 29, 2009 at 8:01 AM  

I am so sorry for your loss, although I don't know exactly how you ay feel, I know how it feels to lose a loved one and it is never easy. You're in my thoughts...

Kara @ His, Hers and Ours October 13, 2009 at 1:14 PM  

I came your way via Manic Mother, and have read about the tragic loss of Eric. I am so sorry for you and your family, and I hope with time the pain will ease, but I also wish that the memories will live on forever.

MoodyMommy October 19, 2009 at 1:16 PM  

I have been reading all of these posts and I am sooooooo sorry. I am sitting at my computer with an unending flood of tears for you. You are always in my prayers. You are a MUCH stronger person than I...I admire your courage and strength. Much Love!!

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Angela McCoy is a freelance writer/editor, military wife and work at home mom (WAHM) to four boys with special needs. Her writing encompasses a myriad of topics -- Autism, ADHD, Auditory Processing Disorder, Cystinosis, Fanconi's Syndrome, kidney transplant, and more -- influenced by her two teenagers and seven-year-old twins. She considers writing to be therapeutic and utilizes her skills to counsel and inspire her readers. Angela is a quick-witted, 'no holds barred,' tell it like it is' humorist who has learned that laughter truly is the best antidote to life's adversities.

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