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Post by pamela on Nov 1, 2005 17:21:38 GMT -5
Dear fellow Sg Friends:
On our old Sg I had started a post where we could tell our stories about our children. I would like to do this again as I found it very helpful for myself in getting to know everyone abnd also it helped me to "tell" my story.
I think many of us have felt the sadness of feeling like it is wrong to talk about our children and what happened, most people just don't want to hear it. Here at Sg we always want to hear about each others children. I am looking forward to reading about all of your children. Bless all of you who are in my life. You are truly one of my biggest blessings.
Love and peace to all of you.
Love pam
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Post by pamela on Nov 1, 2005 18:10:00 GMT -5
My name is Pamela and I am the mother of 3 beautiful children. Michael born February 27th 1982, Michelle born December 10th 1983 and Bryan born February 17th 1988. Being their mother has been the greatest privilege in my life. Sadly June 1st 2002 our life as we knew it changed forever. This was the day that my son Michael left this earth. June 1st was a beautiful Spring day. Strangely enough though the day before it was not. I often wonder now if it was some kind of a sign. The day before Michael died, in the late afternoon 3 Tornadoes hit our town in the area I live in. In fact they went right through our road. What was strange is that I live in NY, we don't get Tornadoes in NY. Our house was ok, we just had trees down, others near us weren't so lucky. We had no power, and it wasn't coming back any time soon. Thankfully our phone still worked at the time. We were able to borrow a generator that Michael helped us hook up and Michael and Bryan spent some time riding around to see the destruction. They then started getting Michael's stuff ready for the races the following day. Nothing was going to keep Michael away from the races. His bike was all set to go and so was he. Michael had been racing motocross for 3 years. He had a YZ250 Yamaha racing motocross motorcycle. He was starting to gain experience and was hoping to move up that season. His plan was to win the race that day. He had an excellent chance. Bryan is Michael's younger brother and also his best friend. In the last few years Bryan and Michael had become very close, doing almost everything together. Bryan went with Michael to help him at the races. Bryan had a smaller version of Michael's bike and was going to start racing also. They had started riding together. The boys got up that Saturday morning very early. They were ready to leave for the track by 5:30. The boys were going by themselves that day. I had to work and the boys father and I were going to go watch Michael race on Sunday. It was a whole weekend event. Michael was in his glory. He absolutely loved Motocross. Everywhere you looked in his room, in his notebooks there were tracks drawn, plans made, Michael was truly living his dream. Life was good for Michael. I did get up that morning, after barely sleeping because of the noise of the generator. I wished the boys a good day, told Michael to be careful, said I would see them late that night. Thats the last time I saw Michael alive..... We spent the morning outside, left to go out to breakfast. Upon returning we neglected to check the answering machine. If I had then I would of heard the message from Bryan saying they were on the way to the hospital. Instead the boys father decided to call them on the cell phone, it was then that we learned that they were on the way to the hospital and Michael was unconscious. Michael had a great practice session that day at the track and was pumped to begin the race. He did begin the race, but never made it over the Finnish line. He was in 2nd place trying to overcome the 1st place rider on the first lap of a 4 lap race when he crashed. When this happened Michaels chest hit the handle bars and he layed dying on the track. It was there on the side of the track that life left his body...while the race continued on..... There were Emt's at the track who rushed to treat Michael. He was transported to the nearest hospital while CPR was being performed. Unfortunately Michaels death was caused by his aorta being severed, the immediate loss of blood flow to his body killed him very quickly. It didn't matter that Michael had expensive, good, protective gear that included a chest protector, his injury was called a "freak accident" . The only death ever at the track. We got to the hospital to find Bryan waiting by himself. Bryan had rode in the ambulance while they were trying to save Michael's life. We were immediately ushered into a separate room where I immediately asked to see Michael. They wouldn't let me. I begged, on hands and knees and finally the Social worker went to check...it was on her return that our world shattered as she spoke those words....."I'm sorry but his heart stopped beating"..... After that so much was a blur, so much went wrong. Our experience was not a good one, though I can't imagine anyone's is. I don't think I will ever forget the ride home that day and leaving Michael behind.... Michael was a wonderful, bright, loving son who was going to college for Computer Engineering. He lived at home and we were planning on him living with us for a long time still. Some days it still doesn't seem possible he could be gone. His clothes are still here, most of his stuff is. I truly miss him each and every single day and think I always will. We have manged to go on with our lives but nothing is the same. Some days I still can't believe that I am a parent of a child that has died. Thank you for listening.
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Post by lindac on Nov 1, 2005 18:38:19 GMT -5
Good idea Pam! I find it helpful to have this also.
My name is Linda (I keep my screen name easy in case I forget who I am.) I have 2 children, a firecracker of a dd and a son who died at age 30. Sean always marched to a different drummer. He was very artistic, painted and played guitar. He could hear something once and play it, usually even better. Sean was labeled hyperactive at a time when other parents would tell you their child was hyperactive. It seemed to be fashionable unless you truly had a child who was. Sean led a very alternative and difficult life. We went through a lot of sorrow as he grew up and did gis own thing. He was very impulsive and would try anything. Unfortunately he tried drugs thinking he could control them,alas, they controlled him. We have come to understand that Sean was bi-polar and may have been self medicating in order to cope. Sean loved to travel and was all over the United States. He lived on the street and he died on the streets of new York from heroin. He had finally decided he truly wanted to clean up and come home but the physical need for the drug got him before he had a chance. For over a year I had the same nightmare every single night of getting the phone call from the new York detective telling us our son was dead. It has now been 3 years and the road has been very hard. While I have found ways to cope I still find it hard to believe sometimes and at other times is just all too real.
Two years ago I was diagnosed with uterine cancer and had to have surgery. I was so very frightened! The night before surgery I had a dream which I woke up not able to remember anything other than a picture of Sean. I had the most wonderful sense of calmness and knew that everything was going to be all right.
Well, that is me. Who is next?
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Post by missingjason on Nov 1, 2005 21:01:33 GMT -5
My son, Jason loved his toys. He had a racing boat for a few years that terrified me but luckily it stayed broke down most of the time. But it wasn't the boat that was to be his end. He bought an old motorcycle and rebuilt it, and played with it awhile. But then one day he bought himself a brand new racing bike and gave the old bike to his twin brother. Jason had told his brother he should not have bought the bike because it was way too big for him and he knew he couldn't handle it. He had barely learned to ride a motorcycle anyway and didn't have any idea how to correct a problem if needed. But he had a friend who was "very knowledgeable"? of motorcycles having ridden them all his life. Well, this guy wanted to show my son what his bike could do. So Jason got on the back with him and this kid was going around 200 mph lost controll went airborne and Jason slid off the back landing on a spiked fence with his head. This is what has haunted me in my nightmares and I can't let myself dwell on it. The boy spent about 2 months in the hospital but is fine now. My son Brandon at first didn't blame him but now he's found he can't talk to him without getting very angry so he stays away from him. And I just don't ever see him. I know that my son is in heaven with Jesus and can't wait till I can see him again.
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Post by itzterri on Nov 2, 2005 10:29:03 GMT -5
My name is Terri and I have visited Silent Grief and posted on and off for the past year and a half. I was Chris's Mom Terri on the other Silent Grief Board. I couldn't get that name to work, so now I'm itzterri. I have 2 children. My daughter Tam is 22, married, (finally on 9/17/05), and the mother to my precious grandson Jake who will be one on November 24. Is he not the CUTEST!!! !!! I also have a son Chris who will be forever 16. Chris was killed in a single car accident on November 15, 2003. It was a cool, sunny Saturday morning and he was on the way to a soccer tournament. He loved soccer! He played in a Classic Soccer league and also on the high school soccer team. He was headed to a friend's house to eat breakfast and then ride with them to the tournament. The road to their house was narrow and curvy and Chris evidently ran off the road to the ride side. Then jerked his car back to the left and ran off the road on the left and hit some trees and a big rock. I don't like to think of the accident. I don't let myself think about it too much. I cannot bear to. We were not able to see him after the accident. The funeral home didn't want us to. I guess I'm glad I don't have to carry that image with me. We were able to get a lock of his hair. He was cremated. I couldn't stand the thoughts of having him in the ground. I know this is a personal choice, but for me, I just couldn't do it. Chris's dad and I are divorced, so we had the funeral home give both of us plus my daughter, Chris's ashes. I have mine on the mantle in my den. I'm not drawn to the ashes nor do I have a shrine to Chris. They are just there. Just a normal feeling thing for me to have him THERE. I don't know what I'll do with his ashes, if anything. Maybe wait until I die and have them spread with my ashes. I have also thought about spreading some in my backyard garden. But I haven't been able to do that yet. I have thought of spreading some at the beach where my inlaws have a house. There is a cross right on the beach. It is a peaceful place. My husband's brother's ashes are there along with his uncle's. But the time is not right yet for me to part with the ashes. I have bought a key chain that is a container for ashes. It has a clear inside case with a outer silver layer. Very discrete, only a couple of inches long. I want to put some of Chris's ashes in it, but I haven't found the courage to do that yet. But when I do, I'll be able to take him everywhere with me. Yesterday I bought a ring that has "CHRIS" on it and have been wearing it. I allow myself to do whatever I want so I can deal with all of this horrible stuff! On November 15th it will be 2 years since Chris was killed. We will go to his parents' house at the beach. That is also where we spent Chris's birthday on May 10th of this year. I have to get away from home. I cannot be here on that horrible day. I don't think I could stand the phone ringing or people coming by. I need to be by myself and think about Chris. I'll take a CD of songs that remind me of him and listen to that. Basically just cry and be sad. I try to tell myself everyday that my life is good. I am lucky enough to still have both of my parent living and both of my inlaws, too. The sun comes up and most mornings it is shining brightly. The birds are chirping and our dogs are barking and glad to see me. I have my beautiful daughter and my wonderful grandson. But there is a hole in my heart. I miss my son Chris. Hugs to all! Terri
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rachiesmom
Junior Member
Little lamb, who made thee? Doest thou know who made thee?
Posts: 64
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Post by rachiesmom on Nov 2, 2005 10:41:09 GMT -5
Let me start by saying it's good to be back. My name is Marilyn. My daughter Rachel is the younger of my two children. From the time she was born, I knew that she was a very special child. As a baby and young girl, she was quiet, independent, determined, very loving, and had a keen sense of humor. As a teenager she became more outspoken always defending her position on the "rightness" of issues and coming to the aid of someone who needed help. She was very outgoing with everyone she met and was always surrounded by friends. Still yet, she enjoyed her time being alone working on her computer and playing EQ. She was introspective, and there was a part of her that very few people got to know.
She was intelligent and ambitious. She worked hard in school always making the honor roll and was named to Who's Who all four years of high school, was the editor of her high school yearbook, and was in several school organizations and clubs. She worked as a volunteer for Relay for Life and at the school where I am a teacher.
In 2001 she entered Morehead State University. When she came home at Thanksgiving break, I noticed a large lump on her neck. She had been feeling bad for a while, had been itching for several months, and had a slight, yet persistent cough. A week later after x-rays, scans, and a biopsy we found out that she had Hodgkin's lymphoma. She was allowed to finish that semester of college and underwent six months of chemotherapy and twenty radiation treatments. She was in remission for only a short time. She then had an autologous stem cell transplant. Her chances for long term survival had gone from 85% to 40-60%.
She relapsed six months later and now her chances were 20%. She had an allogeneic transplant with her sister as her donor. Eight months later we found out that she had once again relapsed. This time she had 27 radiation treatments and two chemo treatments. By this time the effects of all of the treatments had taken a toll on her body. She had permanent damage to her heart and lungs and was on oxygen and in a wheelchair. She then decided that she would stop her treatments.
All through this she was so strong in her faith in God. She had the courage of any soldier and always had a positive attitude. She always tried to make the best of every day. Even when she knew she was dying she would tell people that she was so blessed.
I was always amazed when she would say this. In the years that she was sick she lost so much that was important to her. She lost her health and ability to do even simple things that we take for granted. She had to quit college three times and had to quit her part time job that she loved. She lost her hair three times. She lost many friends who couldn't find it in themselves to stick by her because of her illness. She lost the love of her life because he also couldn't deal with her illness. She lost the hope of fulfilling her dreams of one day graduating college, getting a good job, getting married and having children. She wanted to see the world and she knew she would never get the chance to.
Still she said she was blessed. She had a wonderful family who loved her dearly. She made new friends who were going through the same thing she was and friends who showed their love for her despite her illness. Most of all she loved her Lord and Savior and knew that no matter what she could always depend on Him.
I could write a book about my wonderful daughter, but even that couldn't portray just how wonderful she was. She was not only my baby, she was also my best friend. If anyone is blessed it is me. For 22 years God allowed me to have this special person in my life. I don't know how I go on without her, but somehow I do. Maybe it is because she will always be "here in my heart".
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Post by momtodena on Nov 2, 2005 12:17:31 GMT -5
Thank you Pamela for giving us this opportunity to share our children with each other. My name is Kathy and I lost my beloved daughter, Dena Rose, to cancer (melanoma) on 1/16/05; just 5 days past her 30th birthday. There really aren't enough words to describe the inner and outer beauty of Dena; suffice it to say that Dena was a bright light in so many people's life and the center of my life and many others. Dena was living an extremely happy life in Massachusetts; she had great friends, a loving boyfriend, the best roommate possible, an outgoing bubbly personality, a good job and a capacity to spread love and smiles everywhere she touched. She loved her family, friends, traveling, taking care of others, planning get-togethers, shopping and so many of the same things I love. Dena and I had an extremely close relationship; we were like two peas in a pod. As she matured, we became best friends, confidants, and spent so much time together. Although Dena lived 3 hours away, we talked and e-mailed every day and visited each other at least one weekend a month. I will never forget that day when I got the call from Dena that the results of a biopsy done on a mole on her buttock was melanoma, Stage III. My life flashed instantly in front of me. That was back in October, 2003. From that day on, life became a roller coaster of doctor visits, treatments, infections, emergency rooms, hospital stays and emotions ranging from prayers, begging, bartering, crying, anger, screaming, hate, love. Then on 9/1/04, less than a year later, the unfathomable news that the cancer had spread to several organs and the brain. My life as it used to be ended that day. Dena suffered for the last 4 1/2 months of her life from this dreadful disease. We were all torn and broken into a million pieces watching the deterioration of our sweetheart. However, throughout all of this, Dena stayed positive, happy, loving and caring more about others than herself. She started participating in fund raising events for the American Cancer Society until she was too ill to do so and became involved in trying to reach out to others and educate them on melanoma and the harmful rays of the sun and tanning salons (both of which Dena loved). Finally, on 1/16/05, Dena took her final breath with all of her loved ones surrounding her. I still can't believe that I stood there by her and told her it was o.k. to let go and stop suffering. How I ever found that strength is beyond me. I still can't believe this is my life now. All of the feelings that have been expressed by others on this site are the same ones I go through everyday. My biggest obstacle that I can't seem to overcome is remembering Dena lying in that hospital bed suffering so much and fighting so hard to live. I can't get the picture out of my head of watching the life leave her body. It hurts so much that there's days I feel it's unbearable. I've asked myself many times if it would have been easier had Dena just passed away suddenly without all the suffering and I really believe that the answer to that is Yes, absolutely - for all of us involved. However, on the up-side, we did get to say our final good-byes to the person that meant the most to me. The only thing that keeps me going now-a-days is the hope that I will be re-united with my angel again someday soon. If you'd like to read more about my daughter, there is a website dedicated to her; www.denabrown.com. There are many beautiful messages and pictures posted on her site by people that love her and other's that didn't even know Dena. There is also links to sites with information on melanoma, the cancer known as "the beast". Please know that I feel connected to all of you.....knowing that others are suffering the same way I am, helps me in ways I can't explain.....thanks for sharing. Kathy
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Post by Corinne on Nov 2, 2005 12:48:46 GMT -5
Pam, I was hoping you would start this post again
My name is Corinne, I have been married to Dave since 9/26/81. We have 3 beautiful children. Amanda born 1/2/84, David born 2/13/85 and Tim, born June 19, 1985 died on November 11, 2001.
Tim came into this world 10 weeks early and left this world much to soon. He was severely disabled, he had cerebral palsy, he was blind, mentally challenged and had a feeding tube. There were so many times throughout his life that the doctors would tell us Tim was going to die but he would always prove them wrong, he wasn't ready. He suffered many illnesses and hospitalizations but was a real trooper through it all.
As he grew, his spine began to curve eventually to 95 degrees. We faced a difficult decision about having a steel rod placed. The operation would be very long and there was a good chance Tim would not survive it. If he did not have the surgery, his ribs would eventually compromise his breathing. His doctor made the decision for us, he refused to operate for fear that Tim would die. He offered to refer us elsewhere, we chose not to. Tim was about 12 years old at the time.
The next several years were good to Tim, until 2001 came. Tim started having breathing complications. He was hospitalized several times in a short period of time. The last time was August of 2001. We were then asked to decide whether to put Tim on life support. We decided Tim had been through enough. To do this would be selfish on our parts. Tim recovered from that illness only to contact pneumonia 3 months later. This time there were no trips to the hospital. We kept him comfortable and let him go in peace. No more needles, IV's Oxygen masks....Tim hated them all.
He died on Veteran's day, Tim was a true veteran, he fought many wars.
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ilise
New Member
Posts: 5
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Post by ilise on Nov 2, 2005 16:17:10 GMT -5
I had two children. Rachel was born in 1983. When I was pregnant with Adam in 1985 my marriage was falling apart. By the time he was born in December, we were barely talking. Adam's birth was therefore bittersweet. But the situation made the tie I had with Adam that much stronger. I always was vulnerable to him and about him and I felt that it was reciprocal. By the time he was 9 months old I was divorced. He was the fattest, happiest baby, who turned into the happiest most active little boy. When he was 2 1/2 I remarried and my husband became the only father Adam ever really knew.
Adam was the kid that everyone loved and he continued to be that person until the day he died. He was hyperactive and challenging, but could charm anyone (especially me) with his smile, and his dimples, and his hugs. He found himself in high school and was involved in many different things and with many different groups of kids. He was the epitome of diversity and couldn't stand it when anyone spoke negatively about anyone or any group. He was creative and talented. He was self taught on the guitar and the piano, and was a great music and lyric writer. He was the lead singer of his band and recorded lots of music. He was involved in the drama club and I always felt bad for the other parents, because Adam always stole the show even when he didn't have the lead part. He had more friends than I could count and the same was true for girlfriends. He was the kind of student who could get all A's if he chose, which he did at times. He got into the university of his choice when he applied for early admission. He decided to study Spanish which he loved. He always held a part time job and for several years it was in an Assisted Living Facility where I also work. The residents loved him because he was so down to earth, warm and funny. They still talk about the magic tricks that he shared with them. For the last 3 summers, he was also a camp counselor and had been the music specialist at the camp during the summer of 2004. He went to college in the fall of 2004 and fell into "normal" college life of friends, classes, partying, and the like. He adored one of his Spanish professors who was also the chairperson of the Spanish department. He twisted my arm to let him study with her in Spain for the summer. She still refers to him as "my other son" and has recently published a textbook which she dedicated to his memory. Adam kept in close touch with his "home" friends, but had the same huge impact on the college people that he met as his hometown clan. He was thrilled when he met his college soulmate and best friend. He joined the drama group there too, and was going to schools and hospitals to help translate for Spanish speaking people. He came home for spring break in March 2005 and unfortunately my Mom, his grandmother died suddenly while he was home. He was devastated particularly because they had a very close relationship which had grown when I moved her to live with me a year and a half before. After spring break, he planned a weekend in New York City to visit his very best friend. He had a great time there and then returned to school and was in a play the week after. I spoke with him at least once every day from the day I brought him to college. Usually on Fridays and Saturdays I did not call him because it was the weekend. If he called on those days it was a bonus. On Thursday, March 30th, I spoke with him about 5 times. One of his friends from home was going to visit him and Adam wanted me to send some of his things with the friend which I did. At one point when I called him back he was in the library finishing a paper that was due on Friday. I did not speak with him on Friday. At 4 AM on Saturday morning I got the call. It was the ER doctor and we needed to come right away. I was hysterical screaming to my husband that "I cannot do this." We got dressed, I called my daughter to meet us at the hospital, and I got in the car. There was a horrible rainstorm, and I called the ER doctor and said that I had a 75 mile ride and I needed to know if we had to endanger our lives and my daughters, or was it too late anyway. It was too late anyway. I called my daughter and told her not to hurry. I called one of my sisters and told her to get in the car (she lives 600 miles away) and I told my husband to stop the car because I was going to be sick.
According to the Coroner and the District Attorney the cause of Adam's death is "undetermined" after an autopsy and a lengthy investigation. But I know that it was a suicide. He left some friends and 10 minutes later he went out a 9th story window. Evidently there were no witnesses. My husband cannot accept that it was suicide. I do. I have done a lot of research and talked to a lot of other mothers who have lost their children by suicide. Adam was not the only "golden boy" who had demons. I am so sad that he was in such pain.
There were 1000 people at his funeral and at least 750 of them were his friends. How many people have 750 friends? That was Adam. He made the sun shine for me. He made the sun shine.
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Post by Teeny's Mom on Nov 2, 2005 22:00:40 GMT -5
Allison was born with Noonan Syndrome. We didn't get a diagnosis until she was 7, though because her symptoms were mild and her pediatrician didn't think that all of her challenges were related. She was a vibrant little girl with bright red hair. She was small for her age, just 50 pounds and wearing a size 4, but had a big voice that announced her entrance and put a smile on your face. She would laugh a huge belly laugh at any joke even if she didn't get it. She loved living and had an innocence about her. She believed that everyone was good and kind and never could understand why kids teased her at school. During her last year she began the crusade of helping other kids who were sad or lonely. She would seek them out on the playground and soon all would be laughing and feeling better. About a month before she died we visited her cardiologist. (She had hypertrophic cardiomyopathy as a complication to Noonan Syndrome) He commented that her heart seemed better than it ever has and he would classify her condition in the super mild range. She passed away at school. The principal had a turkey hunt. A stuffed turkey was hidden on the playground and the student who found it would win a clown candy dispenser. Allison's sister, Jessica, was afraid of clowns and Ally was determined to win the dispenser and scare Jessica with it. When the principal said, Go!, she went and collapsed from an arrythmia and cardiac arrest. She died instantly. Her dad and I met her at the ER and I knew she was already gone. The entire school and community was in shock. They organized a celebration of life that was overwhelming. After the services they had everyone go to the school where they decorated the multipurpose room with balloons, streamers and poster size pictures of Ally. Instead of flowers, our family had asked that people donate a teddy bear to be given to the fire department. They give them to children if they go on a call. The school had collected well over 1000 teddy bears and the room was filled with them. It was nice to see how Ally had impacted so many lives with her spirit. We are counting the minutes until we can see Ally again. I know she is having a ball in heaven. She had asked me, oddly enough, about two months before she died what it was like in heaven. She asked if she would be able to do gymnastics and run (she had physical limitations due to her syndrome) and I said absolutley! She just smiled the sweetest smile. Of course, I had no idea. Did she? I'll have to wait to find out the answer to that.
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Post by mumsi7fl on Nov 3, 2005 4:42:53 GMT -5
My name is Helen. John, my husband, and I are the parents of two wonderful sons. Doug, born 3/29/68, and James, born 2/2/72. We lost Doug on July 10, 2005, and every day is a struggle to go on without him.
Doug passed away on a beautiful July day. He and his family were entertaining some relatives from Arizona (first time they'd ever travelled to Michigan). They were having a picnic down by the lake at their mobile home community, and everyone was playing games and swimming. We'd given both our sons swimming lessons when they were just little guys because I can't swim and I was always afraid that I wouldn't be able to help them if they ever got in trouble in the water....Doug was a really great swimmer and he loved the water, but he had always respected it, too...until 7/10/2005. On that awful day he'd been having so much fun trying to teach his stepdaughter how to swim, playing with others in the lake. Then someone told him that there was a "black hole" at the deep end of the lake...no one had ever been to the bottom....well, Doug was a really curious person, and never one to back off from a challenge...he just had to check it out for himself. His family saw him dive down....waited...and then realized that he wasn't coming up. His brother-in-law, from Arizona, dove down to look for him and couldn't find him...he dove repeatedly until he didn't have the strength to dive again. They called for help, and went and got his brother, our youngest son Jim. That's when our nightmare began.....our sons live in Michigan, we'd retired to Florida. Jim called us on his cell phone, told us step by step what was happening....it was surreal...from the time the EMS got there, the dive team found him, their inability to rescuitate him, the life flight to the nearest trauma center, to the final call telling us that Doug "didn't make it". We still don't, and never will, understand what happened that day. The medical examiner could only tell us that his "best guess" was that Doug was over-exhausted from the activity of the day and when he dove down, he lost conciousness and never realized that he was drowning...that after the first intake of water into his lungs, it was too late. I guess I should thank God that he was never in any pain, and that he never realized that he was dying....but right now I just can't be grateful for anything.
There's a really weird part to Doug's story....only one week earlier he had attended the funeral of a long time friend of his who had drowned while fishing in a lake in northern Michigan....and he had told so many people at the lake how important it was to respect the water and to never take chances.
My husband and I both are "anti-funeral"....never have liked funerals or graveside services, and have both decided that the only way for us is cremation, but when Doug passed, we had to leave the decision on what to do for him up to his wife. She wanted the funeral. Well, it was hard....Doug deeply believe in God, but he didn't believe in organized religion. Somehow, the funeral plans for Doug just all fell into place, and it turned out to be the most beautiful, loving tribute anyone can ever imagine. We decided to celebrate Doug's death instead of mourning his death that day. We asked people not to "dress up" for the funeral....because Doug wouldn't have wanted that, so everyone, except for his special friends, his brother, his wife and daugter and us, wore casual clothes....the rest of us wore black jeans and black Harley Davidson t-shirts (Doug wasn't a biker, but he loved Harley's and the whole Harley mystique). Doug was very proud of his Celtic ancestory....he always wore a Celtic cross. His "circle of friends" placed a sprig of "bells of Ireland" in the casket with him, his brother gave him a replica Celtic sword (placed in his casket), and his friends arranged for a bagpipe player to perform for him graveside. We didn't have a "man of the cloth" to speak for Doug....we didn't feel we wanted a stranger to give his eulogy....so one of Doug's friends gave the eulogy (which he had written himself), and I, his mother, gave the second half of his eulogy (afterall, I gave him life....I wanted to help him into his new "life" in the arms of God and Jesus Christ). No "funeral music" was played at the service....instead, another of Doug's friends, put together a medley of Doug's all-time favorite music which was played softly in the background. At the graveside, again no minister or priest.....no words, just everyone encircling his grave, holding hands and saying the Lord's Prayer.
We know that Doug is in a better place....in our minds....but our hearts are still shattered. I miss him so much, all of us do....everything reminds us of him. We know that we'll see him again....but what to him now is but a brief moment is hours, days, weeks, months and years of agony.
I have so many emotions....sadness, anger, fear for our other son, worry.....you all know what I'm talking about.
Even though Doug wasn't the "perfect" son....he was our treasure....loving, intelligent, funny, loyal....and he was trying to hard to make a good life for his family and to make us all proud of him....we just pray that he knew that he was loved and that we were proud of him.
Every day I think of things I would change if we could just go back before that awful day.....but the one thing I'd never change is one moment of his life.
Thanks for letting me say all of this....people don't like hearing his mother talk about him....it makes them sad, and I'm sorry if I've made anyone sad, but I need to talk about Doug....it's been less than 4 months since he passed away....don't know how we're going to make it through the upcoming holidays.
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Post by ericsmom on Nov 3, 2005 10:50:50 GMT -5
"A time to be born", which Eric did on Novemebr 5, 1985, my dad's 60th birthday, and "a time to die", December 28, 2003 (His good friend Andrew's birthday. Andrew would die 6 months later in an ATV crash). "A time to weep", which seems to be a daily ritual, "a time to be silent", which our house is without Eric. There were over 700 people at his funeral and viewing. Almost 2 years later we are finding out new and wonderful things about our son.
Eric was my "perfect child", just ask him, he'd have no problem telling you how perfect he was. He was the middle son, with the typical middle child syndrome....He was a super, super high achiever, gifted, talented and a higher IQ than most geniuses, but he was also well grounded, with friends from every walk of life. We taught him from an early age that genius is a gift, but friendship is an art, and extremely smart people have trouble with social skills, so he strove to be "normal" in every way. He was a National Honor Society scholar, worked at the hospital part-time, trained his dog "Chase" to be a pet-therapy dog and they would go off to visit patients in the hospital and nursing homes. He tutored many, many kids, dragging six of them through chemistry with daily homework help. One even made the honor roll. I can't tell you how many parents told us of his help. We told him he could go to any college in Pennsylvania, and he was accepted at the best engineering schools--Carnegie-Mellon, University of Pittsburgh, and Penn State. We think he would have gone to Penn State, with his brother, to study chemical engineering, with the intention of coming back to our small town to work. He was my home-body. His friends were always here. We allowed them to build a clubhouse in a former stable, and it is just how he left it. No one has used it in 2 years, his friends can't come back here without him, and CJ can't bring himself to use it for his friends, so it sits waiting for joy and laughter and teenage antics. Eric was the perfect union of two parents........he looks so much like my husband, that one of his good friends told him one day that he knew exactly what Eric would look like at 30, he just had to look at our wedding picture. He even has Ron's smile, and tilted his head the exact same way in his senior picture as Ron had done 30 yrs. earlier. But he was my child in spirit, and personality and heart. Brian always said that Eric was full of the most useless information and had theories about everything. In one of the eulogies at his funeral, his friends spoke about his "Cressman theories", and said they weren't smart enough to know if he was right or wrong, they just agreed with him. After his death Ron went online, and sure enough there is a "Cressman theory" on weather, and of all places at Penn State University. Eric loved to tease and argue, usually with me. One of his friends' once said to him, I don't know why you argue with your mom, I've never seen you win. It wasn't about the winning, it was the spirit of the argue, I so miss our arguing, all in love. His friend's would always tease Eric, because before he left this house, he always, always gave me a hug and kiss goodbye. They would say, we can't leave yet, Cressman has to find his mom. He would just grin, and give me a smoogie kiss and then leave the house.
On December 27th, 2003, we had just returned from a family funeral, my mom's 90 yr. old uncle, so we had gotten to see a very extended family of over 200. About 7:30 I was upstairs in bed watching TV, and he came in, laid down next to me, and asked if he could go out with his friends. I told him sure, if he was feeling okay. He had a flu shot on the 10th of December and had a flu-like reaction to it over the holidays. He said he wouldn't be out late, but he wanted to see everyone. He thanked me for letting him go, and gave me a hug. When he got to the bedroom door, he stood in the doorway and said " I love you, mom". Those were to be the last words my son ever said to me..."I love you, mom". I am so blessed. He went out with his friends, and sometime during the course of the evening his best friend, slipped methodone into his drink. Eric had a bad reaction to the drug, probably because he had asthma. The friend brought Eric home, carried him upstairs and went home; instead of waking us up, or Brian, and telling us what had happened, it was all about his self-preservation. (This friend is now in a federal jail, awaiting a trial as a result of a Grand Jury investigation into Eric's death. He is going to jail, for a very, very long time.) The next morning, December 28th, around 11:00 AM, I tried to wake Eric up and the door to his room was locked. This was unusal, but not unhead of. My kids don't usually lock their doors. I knocked and heard Chase jump off the bed, this is usually about the time that Eric would answer me, or would talk to the dog. No Answer, so I banged harder, and started shouting for Ron and Brian and CJ.....CJ climbed outside on the porch roof, and Brian got a screw driver to open the door. CJ was screaming that Eric wasn't moving....we got the door open, called 911, did CPR, but we were too late. Too late to change the past, too late to alter the future. Too late to do anything but learn to deal with this "new normal".
Eric knew how difficult that would be for us, so he sent us a sign of God's love and his safe entry into heaven. You all know too well the chaos that rains on your house when a child has died. December 28th, 2003 was a beautiful, sunny, blue-skied, warm, day. "Perfect", just like Eric. All the kids were here, Eric's friends, Brian's friends, CJ's friends, our friends. None of our family was here yet, as they are all 3-4 hours away. Around 1:30, one of Eric's friends, came running into the house, and took me by the hand and asked for Ron, and told me she needed me to come outside. She was insistent, without telling us what was outside. Some of the adults were a little worried about her behavior, but Ron and I went with her. There in the sky, in an azure, blue clear cloudless sky, over our house the only two clouds in the sky formed a "sign of the cross". That cloud formation stayed over our house for the next almost three hours. Numerous pictures were taken of it, and one now sits framed on the wall in our diningroom. He knew that we would need to know that he was safe with God. There wasn't a teenager here that day, nor an adult that didn't believe in the power of Eric's love for all of us, and God's ability to bring us peace when we need it most.
The legacy of my son will live forever, not in fame or fortune, but if everyday more parents tell their children that they love them and more kids on their way out the door, say "I love you".
I wish you all God's peace.
Denise
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Post by pd2004 on Nov 3, 2005 15:04:10 GMT -5
His name is not important, his age does not matter. Our children come in all possible variations. They may be smart or slow, white or black, young or old, they are simply our children. They represented our future at birth - they represented our future every day of their lives. The disaster of yesterday could become the foundation for tomorrow - they are simply our children. Every Mother and Father sees nothing but promise for the future in their children. They may have been perfect in every respect or had the flaws of their parents, they may have been kind to all they met or mean to everyone, but as parents we only saw the possibilities for tomorrow. They represented the future of our family and the future for our society. We here all have a sad story about how our child passed away, they may have been doing something they loved, they may have had an illness that took them away or it may have been a freak accident or suicide. The how does not matter. It is the loss of their future that weighs so heavily. My son was not perfect, he was kind to all he met, he always had a smile on his face, he enjoyed playing golf, fishing, hanging out with his friends and experimenting with drugs. He wanted to be a business owner and talked about how much his employers had taught him, he was persistent if there was something that he wanted to accomplish, yet was unable to control the addiction that claimed his life. He was willing to try new things, he happily moved overseas in high school and made many lifelong friends in the process, yet he talked about the anxiety that kept him from many social situations. He struggled with fears that I did not understand, he prayed for God to help him. In the end God did. He expressed his fear that he would not ever fall in love and have a family or children, yet was frightened by the prospect of fatherhood when it entered his life. What a great father he would be, his kindness, his thoughtfulness, his willingness to do things for all who asked - these are the traits that made us so proud and so sure of his future. But it was not to be. He was proposed to, yet in-spite of being in love with her, could not see himself taking on the responsibility of spouse and children, fear was driving him and he turned her down. This was our child. The beaming pictures when he completed college, the strong determination to move out of state, to embark on this adventure called life, yet unable to control his desire to escape reality at times. There is no way to fully describe the person that was our child, his hopes his fears, his joys has sadness. We are proud to call him our son, we miss him and will always grieve for him. We have lost his future.
Patrick 8/12/79- 11/24/04
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sherrie
New Member
mother of Eric25,Clifford23,Tim20,Travis18
Posts: 2
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Post by sherrie on Nov 6, 2005 7:55:16 GMT -5
Oh where do I begin? My son cliff was born on July 30th 1982, he died October 25th 2005.Its so new and so hard for me to deal with,I didn't see it coming. Cliff was very sick and no one knew it. You see he was born with spina bifida was confined to a wheelchair was paralyzed from the waist down,he also had hydrocephalus water on the brain,the shunt had last been replaced when he was about 15, The doctors had told me when they put the first one in that throughout his childhood it would need to be replaced about 3 or 4 times when he would out grow it.well for the last few weeks he had stopped eating much, when I would ask him how he was feeling he would always say fine no problems, I just figured his eating less was due to him trying to lose weight, he was a very big kid.He went to bed Friday night and never woke up.Rushed to the hospital they couldn't understand what the problem was when they did a ct it came back normal,Monday morning they took him to surgery and found out it was his shunt after all but it was too late his brain was damaged beyond repair,he died Tuesday night.I feel so guilty cause I didn't see the signs,I feel guilty cause I wasn't home, I drive a semi across country and had not been home since labor day weekend,I called everyday spoke with him daily in fact spoke to him Friday night, I asked him how he was doing and he said fine,he said his right arm was a little shaking but that was it, I had told his brother who was his caregiver to keep an eye on him if it got any worse take him to the ER if not we would call the doctor on Monday,I often feel if i were home I might have been able to have seen something sooner,I just didn't know.If cliff knew he didn't say anything and he was always good about that kind of stuff when something wasn't right as much as he hated the hospital he knew when he had to go he had to go,he wanted to live he had so many hopes and dreams for his future,I have failed him and hurts so bad I miss him so much.I pray that he forgives me for my mistakes.I have to believe in my heart that his spirit is free,no longer held prisoner by his body that didn't work, that now he can run and walk and no more doctors no more needles no more pain.I pray that he is happy and in a better place.I pray that someday I will be reunited with him again.
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Post by heartsore on Nov 9, 2005 20:42:24 GMT -5
All of our stories are so sad. I spent a long time writing about Ian last night; and when I went to close another window I had open, it closed the SG one too and I lost everything. So, since it was getting late, I turned off the computer and went to bed deciding that it probably happened because I was so tired. Anyway, I wanted to try again tonight. My name is Margot. I am a divorced mother - Ian was only a little more than three when his father and I separated, with siblings aged six and a half, eleven and thirteen. I was a good, involved mother and was fortunate enough to be able to stay at home until Ian was nine or ten at which time I returned to work because I had to contribute towards college for the older children. Of my four children (girl, boy, girl and boy), Ian was the "baby" - the youngest and was a little like an only child as the others had all graduated from college and moved away from home. He still lived at home for the five months of the year when he wasn't away at school. Ian was handsome, smart, capable, funny, loyal, loving and had so much promise. He had many friends and moved comfortably around his peers and adults. He had a girlfriend he loved very much that he'd been with for two years and as a senior at Embry-Riddle Aeronautical University in Daytona Beach, he was due to graduate in the spring of 2002 with a bachelor of science degree. He was an accomplished pilot who had earned all of his ratings - private, commercial, multi-engine and instrument. Ian never left the house, ended a phone call or an email message without telling me he loved me. He was affectionate all his life with an easy-going personality that attracted people to him. He loved our cats and was always happy to see them when he came home from college for breaks. Our 12-year-old cat Noah still responds to kissing sounds I guess from all the kisses he received from Ian. Ian was very clever mechanically and could fix almost anything. He was hardly ever angry and always laughed easily. I can "hear" his laugh even now. He was hard working and fun loving. He knew what he wanted and he worked hard to get it . . . whether it was a car or a good grade in class. Tragically, Ian died as a result of a gun accident nearly three years ago - just two months shy of his 23rd birthday. He was down in Florida at his off-campus apartment. He owned a hair trigger gun which I knew nothing about; and despite the clip being out of the gun, he had been drinking beer and so he unwittingly participated in his own accidental death and the end of life as our family knew it. Now a little about how Ian's death has affected me and my three other children. The person I was before he died left on the same night he died. The joy was taken from my life - my ability to be light-hearted is gone; and despite the fact that I still have three surviving children who I love very much and who need me, I still struggle with my grief and they lost the mother they had "before." People who have raised a child know how strong parental love is, but they have absolutely no idea of the impact the death of a child has. No one who has not lost a child will ever be able to understand the depth of despair. It is a loss like no other. In a moment you go from a life where everything is okay to one where nothing is right anymore . . . there's a "before" and and "after" - everything is marked by that moment when life changes. The life we had before our children died is gone . . . there's no fixing things. I tried to do all the "right" things to try to feel better. I attended Compassionate Friends meetings, saw a grief counselor - read books, etc. But I came to realize that it was what it was and that I needed to learn to live with it. That's it . . .the pain has no where to go. So, I'm going to stop writing now, but I'm posting several pictures of Ian. Ian and his girlfriend Ian with his sister, Megan, and her dog, Cubby Ian at about age six Ian at 21
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