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Post by Corinne on Nov 12, 2005 15:54:13 GMT -5
moving to the top for new members I wonder if there is a way we could request this post to stay on top??? Anyone know how to go about it
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Post by anitaf on Nov 12, 2005 20:36:00 GMT -5
Thank you everyone for sharing your children with me. This is my first day to this site as my son Matt died on July 21st
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Post by missingjason on Nov 12, 2005 21:31:41 GMT -5
Anita, tell us about Matt, when you feel up to it. We are here for you. (((Hugs and Love sent your way)))
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Post by anitaf on Nov 13, 2005 7:12:14 GMT -5
Hi Missing Jason, I too am missing Matt. It is 7:30ist on a Sunday mourning and I am sitting at the computer wanting to go in and wake Matt up just beacuse he hated getting up in the morning. I want to tell EVERYONE about Matt I just don't know how much I have right now. Let me try to start"
My name is Anita, My Husband Norman I have a daughter from a very young Marriage Michele she is 35 and I have a wonderful granddaughter named Rachel. Her mom say well as wonderful as you can be at 14. Our son Michael is the oldest of our two children together and he is 21. Matt is and will always be our MIRICLE CHILD. After Mike was born I had two misscarriages ( that last one beig July of 1986) and the doctors told me I would NEVER have any more children. Within the ne xt 4 months I was somehow by miracle pregnant with Matt. I was so happy that I thought I would burst. Our happiness was in bust not knowing that both of my grandmothers woudl die within a week in December (between Christmas and New Years) Sadly because I was pregnant what who I believed to be my miracle child, I believed that because they were older Matt would live within them. I thought for sure he would be a girl just because of that. Matt was born on Jluy 13th @6:34PM, 6 weeks early I screamed and yelled at the doctor because I could not hear him screaming. When he cried and they put him in my arms I knew I was holding a miracle. I know that each child we have is a Miracle but Matt felt differenct and alsoways was. His personality was overwhelming and his smile got you on the first one but he had some medical issues as far as speach and lungs. We worked very hard and he won these battles. We moved to NJ when Matt was 3 due to a job relocation and Matt basically grew up there. He played Little League, Skateboarding, pee wee football and had a ton a friends. When we moved to CT in June of 2000 he was happy and excited because my daughter and granddaughter were already living here so he was going to be very close to them. Michael our 21 year alod was also excited.
It was very hard for Michael at first because has not been the "social" guy that Matt has. He has been more of the book person "A" kind of student. Matt was very jealous and angry at that for his first couple of years but he won in the "social" world so that made him happy. Tried to tell all my children that each one of us has a special "gift" that works.
Matt graduated from high school on June 20th 2005. He recieved a scholarship to go to Denver and was so happy!!! His last month here he took a "road trip to Florida" went to the beaches that he could and had all of his snow gear packed for Denver. It still is.
Matt went to Florida the week before his accident with a friend, they drove from CT to Florida without so much as a speeding ticket or accident. They left on July 14th the day after Matt's 18th Birthday. He prided himself on being 18 and being able to make these decisions without my being able to be the "final call" He knew I would never stop him from going becuase this is Matt. He and a friend from hight school drove together and met his friends parents there. (They flew) On Wednesday July 20 Matt called our house at 9:30Pm to ask how to get to an ice cream parlor we went to often when living in New Jersey. My husband Norm gave them directions. The did not reach CT until around 2:30AM and Matt dropped off his golf clubs and some dirty clothes but did not want to wake Norm and I. He went to his friends house to sleep that night planning to come home the next day. His dad had some tests for medical stuff to be completed that day and I took him to the hospital. He laid in the hospital so worried that he would not live to see his "boys" marry and have grandchildren. We came home after his tests and I tried to call Matt but only got his voice mail. My husband went to sleep for a while and I went into work for a while. When I got home Matt had still not called, I tried to call again only to voice mail. I called his friends house and was told that he had gone to the store for some soda's and stuff for cooking out on the grill. That was at 6:50PM. I called his friend again at 7:30 and was told he did not where for sure Matt was but would have him call immediately to talk to his dad when he got back.
11:30PM that night I went to bed figuring Matt was being a teenager and when the phone rang at 12:10AM thought that he had finally decided to call.
The next voice I heard was my husband screaming down the hall to our bedroom that MATT IS DEAD, I jumped up not even knowing what he was talking about because the phone rang and it had to be Matt. He said it was Matt's friend's Mom who he had called in Florida and said the police were at his house and that Matt was dead. Within 5 minutes of her phone call the police arrived. I don't remember much after that other than people arrived in the middle of the night and I wanted to see Matt. I wanted to go to where is was supposed to be and see this was wrong. Matt wasnt't in his car but in his friends Mom's car. He was not driving but being driven by a Friend showing Matt work that he had done on the car while they were in Florida. The newspaper has crucified these two young men for a mistake. I miss my baby more than words, tears or writing can even begin to express. Matt will always be with me, night, twilight, sun break, sun down and cloudy days. Each rain drop I feel will be him.
I am not really sure right now what I am supposed to do, feel, say or how to act. I am going on impulse. This is the first time I have written since I wrote the letter to Matt to tell him to wait for me and put with him on July 25th. This probably doesn't make much sense because I am all over the place with thoughts, dreams, and reality, but I appreciate a place to share.
Thank You All again for your support Anita Figgs married to Norman 23 years Mother to: Michele: 1/6/70 Michael: 3/14/84 Matthew: 7/13/87-died 7/21/2005
Forever in my heart
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Post by missingjason on Nov 13, 2005 17:28:48 GMT -5
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Post by MomofBuilder on Nov 15, 2005 8:18:48 GMT -5
For as much as I have written today, I find that I can't quite write his story here yet. I will just write a little and modify it when I can.
Aaron was a precious joy to us. He lived in the same town we do. He built homes, including ours. He died suddenly and unexpectedly the evening before Thanksgiving , breaking our hearts. He was in the best health of anyone in our family and his heart just stopped. He was 30 years old.
Carol
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brandonsmom
Junior Member
Brandon 11/09/1984 - 07/09/2005
Posts: 65
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Post by brandonsmom on Nov 18, 2005 16:51:10 GMT -5
My name is Jennifer. Brandon is the second of four children. I knew early on that Brandon was a special child. He was always very wise beyond his years. He cared about people, and would give you anything he had if you needed it. He and I were very close, and in the last few years before he died, we had become best friends. Brandon was born November 9, 1983 and died July 9, 2005. Brandon was born with an unknown eye defect. I donated his eyes to an eye institute after his death, but they are still not sure what disease he has. My oldest son also has the same condition, but Brandon’s eyes seemed to be much worse. He had a very hard time in school and was teased by the other children. Brandon was told he could never drive a car. I finally agreed to help him get a scooter on this 21st birthday. He was so happy! He finally had his independence! Brandon drove that scooter everywhere. He had the scooter eight months to the day when he crossed the center lane and hit a car head on. It was dark, and very early in the morning. He had gone to a friends 21st birthday the night before. It was also my birthday. I got a hug and a kiss, he told me happy birthday, that was the last time I saw him. I don’t know why he was on that road at 5am, other than he had stayed up all night at the party and was going to the beach to watch the sunrise. I knew he didn’t come home that night, I thought he spent the night with his friend. The next morning I kept trying to call his cell phone, but he didn’t answer, then later that morning, I got the call. I miss Brandon more than words can say. I can not wait until the day I join him.
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Post by trinabobina on Dec 7, 2005 22:36:07 GMT -5
Hello, all...so many hearts broken, so many children gone. I never realized -- truly realized -- how much suffering is in this world.
The following is from an article our local paper ran on our son...it is long...
Moose: a life with ripples By Allen Jones
Everyone called him Moose, including his teachers. He even signed his papers "Moose." On Sept. 4 more than 800 people celebrated the boy known to his parents as "Zach," many of them fellow students who in prior days had paid tribute to him with many tears.
The memorial for 13-year-old Zachary "Moose" Triplett was held in Magnolia High School's auditorium. Family and friends remembered Triplett as an intellectual who was also an "absurdist" and was always smiling. Hymns, prayers and poetry were performed in the aspiring rock musician's honor. Simon and Garfunkel's "Bridge Over Troubled Water" and a song by the grunge-rock group Green Day were performed by three of Triplett's friends. Several of Triplett's peers wore T-shirts with the words "We love you Moose" printed on them.
"The auditorium was almost full," said Triplett's step-father William Travis Martin. "I didn't even know that many people."
But Moose did.
The day Triplett died, counselors were brought to the junior high campus he attended to handle the mass of students who were having trouble coping with the loss of their peer.
"The counselors spent the entire day over here," said Principal Mark Weatherly. "The memorial service was on a Saturday, and I think it really helped the student bring closure to his death."
Weatherly described Triplett as "a great kid" who was funny and out-going and "made people want to be around him."
Linda Hadden, a counselor at Magnolia Junior High School, told The Potpourri that a number of students have cried in her office since learning of Triplett's death. Over and over, she said, students told her how Triplett had a way of making them feel accepted.
"And it wasn't just one group or clique of students," she said. "There was this one new student who said Zach made her feel comfortable and at home on the first day of school. So many of the students told me he made coming to school extra nice for them. I kept hearing these stories over and over from the students. I've done this for 20 years and it is unusual. No one said one bad word about him."
Hadden said there was something about Triplett that made his peers feel comfortable about themselves. She said students often recounted stories of his "unique sense of humor."
"They are stories these students will carry away with them in their hearts," Hadden said. "They all had kind words about him and I don't think it was just because he is gone."
Hadden said that she knew Triplett but that after counseling so many of his junior high peers, she was in awe over the positive impact he had on their lives. "In my office, students cried very hard and wrote heart-felt letters and made posters," she said. "He touched their lives in so many ways. There was a lot of philosophical exchange. One day I stayed after school with some students who wanted to make things for Zach's family. They really wanted to share what Zach meant to them." Hadden said she tried to reinforce the strong character traits Triplett possessed to those she counseled. "He had a powerful message he shared with these students," she said.
A little more than a week after his death Moose's Converse high-top shoes sat on top of a dining room chair in his Magnolia-area home. The shoes are brightly colored - one green and the other pink. The green pair is inscribed with the words, "I am Mr. Moose," in permanent marker. They are now his family's reminder of a son who lived life to the fullest despite the physical odds that were stacked against him.
Triplett died Sept. 1 at 12:35 a.m., six days after an Aug. 25 motorcycle accident. The accident is not what claimed his life, said his mother, Trina Martin. It was his asthma, she said.
It was 5:55 p.m. on Aug. 25 and Triplett and his step-father, William Martin, were heading to the 13-year-old's second confirmation at Messiah Lutheran Church in Cypress when the 2005 red Honda Shadow they were riding veered out of control while taking a curve on the east-bound lane of Coe Loop. The motorcycle, driven by Triplett's step-father, crossed into the west-bound lane of the loop and struck an approaching car on the driver's side.
According to Texas Department of Public Safety trooper Sandra Kitchen, an investigator at the accident scene, it did not appear that Triplett's step-father was speeding. Both of the motorcycle passengers were also wearing helmets.
The trooper said although William Martin suffered injuries, Triplett seemed to be fine. According to Triplett's mother, her son did not die due to injuries from the accident, because there were none, despite being thrown from the motorcycle 50 feet.
"I was told he was up and walking around trying to make sure his father was all right," she said. "Then a nurse on the scene told me he suddenly had a severe asthma attack. He lost consciousness. The nurse performed CPR and revived him. When he was put in an ambulance he had to be intubated because he wasn't getting oxygen to his brain. Then his lungs collapsed."
Triplett remained on life support at Hermann Hospital until Sept. 1. He was brain dead.
Trina Martin said making the decision to remove her son from life support was the most difficult one she has ever had to make. Triplett was surrounded by his family, including his mother and step-father and his biological father.
"We were all at his side and we held him as he passed away," she said. "He went quickly. We prayed for a miracle but the miracle for me was that he was able to go quickly. He was ready, or at least his body was ready. He was a blessing every day."
Triplett's mother said he had really connected with his faith over the past year. He received his first confirmation last year at Lord of Life Lutheran Church in The Woodlands. According to his mother, Triplett had made his faith his own.
"It was not just us," she said. "He went to confirmation camp and he was a junior camp counselor at Messiah Lutheran and he touched all those children's lives. He wanted to work for all of these five and six year olds because they called him, 'Mr. Moose.'"
Moose was a nickname he adopted simply because his small stature was the exact opposite of the animal. According to his step-father, the nickname was similar to calling a very large bald man "Tiny."
"People would call and ask for Moose and I would say, 'Who?,'" Trina Martin said.
His step-father said he thinks the nickname empowered Triplett.
"That name set him apart," he said. "He wasn't Zach because there are 100,000 Zachs out there right now. He was Moose. It was his way of being his own being." Triplett was born Dec. 10, 1990 in Fargo, North Dakota. According to his mother, Triplett was born eight weeks early and had a number of birth defects.
"They told us he had a 50-50 chance to live," Trina Martin said. "We had to baptize him the second day he was alive. His lung had collapsed and he just had so many problems."
Trina Martin said her son was "extra large for his age but his lungs were extra small." He spent six weeks in the hospital after he was born. He was also diagnosed with cerebral palsy, a chronic condition that affects motor skills and is caused by damage to the brain. "He got out of the hospital two week before he was supposed to because he was such a little fighter," Triplett's mother said.
Trina Martin said she was told her son would never learn to walk or write very well due to the CP. And when he was a year old, he was hospitalized again. This time for asthma.
"His lungs were always weak," Trina Martin said. His mother was still in college and holding down a job when Triplett was born. She later went through a divorce. She relied on the help of friends to raise him. "For the first three years of his life it was college kids and Zach," she said. "I had amazing friends."
Triplett, however, defied his doctor's expectations and began talking when he was nine months old. He didn't walk, though, until he was two.
"He was always brilliant and always insightful and we always talked to him like he was one of us and I think that influenced him," Trina Martin said. "We never did baby-talk."
Triplett's mother later remarried. Her current husband, William Martin, said the college atmosphere may have contributed to his step-son's ability to overcome his health problems.
Although he said Triplett had a slight "side-gait," most people probably wouldn't have realized that the boy suffered from cerebral palsy.
"Hewas so insightful and smart and funny that you would have never thought something was wrong with his brain," William Martin said. "And his walk, it could be construed as a young person's strut in some way. He just kind of walked slow and took his time and wavered back-and-forth. An outsider looking in could have thought of it as kind of a skate-punker's walk."
A surgery at the Shriner's Hospital for Children in Houston loosened some tendons in Triplett's legs that helped him walk a little better, said his mother. "He really had to think about walking," she said. "It was not a subconscious thing like it is for you and I. He had to think 'heel-toe, heel-toe' to walk."
His health problems were not his most important aspects, his mother said, adding that "he was just one of those kids that never judged other people." Triplett seemed to like everyone for who they were.
"He had so much respect for kids who were true to themselves," she said. "We had long talks about what makes people different. He struggled when he was younger about being handicapped and we had decided that we wouldn't look at it that way. I think that taught him to treat everyone the same."
Trina Martin said her son had a good grasp of the "Golden Rule - treat others the way you would like to be treated."
"He knew that from the start," she said. "That was what he was about. I think that is why he had so many friends. He didn't turn people away.'
William Martin said although he only knew Triplett when Triplett was age six to 13, some life lessons seemed to be naturally born in him.
"He just got it," William Martin said. "He had the mind-set naturally."
During his last few years, the couple said Triplett began to discover his musical talent. His step-father taught him to strum a guitar. Soon, said his mother, Triplett was playing along to his favorite bands such as Green Day and Weezer while listening to their CDs in his bedroom.
"I am reminded of how I was told he didn't have good motor skills and here he could play right along with those bands," Trina Martin said.
For a boy that was born with brain damage, he was a gifted and talented student during his elementary school years. In junior high, he was taking pre-Advanced Placement courses.
"He beat every odd against him," his mother said.
Now his organs are helping other children to overcome physical odds. Triplett's organs were donated to the Houston-based Life Gift.
"Our hope is that with Life Gift, they do this organ donation and they keep tabs on who gets them, and one day we may be able to look at this child and see our son's eyes," Trina Martin said. "We tried to do what our son would have wanted."
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Post by lindav on Dec 21, 2005 12:48:54 GMT -5
So healing for me to be able to post back at SG. This site was such a lifeline to me in the worst period of grief following the loss of my son Kasey. I have tried to stay away and move on....but you never can. I am bonded to those of you who have suffered the loss of a child. You are the only ones who truely understand. I am thankful you are all still here.
My son Kasey was 20 years old, a student at Kansas State University, having the time of his life. In April of 2003, he came home friday before Easter, he called me at work to tell me he had been sick all week. I asked him if he wanted me to drive up and get him, he said, No, he could make the 4 hour drive and he did. By Easter morning he was so ill with fever, chest pain and congestion I took him to the ER. The ER doc said he was dehydrated and needed IV fluids then he could go home, he had a virus. I demanded a Complete blood count to rule out a bacterial infection. Our lives forever changed from that one little blood test. My awesome, athletic son had Leukemia. Sad to think it has now been 2 years and 8 months since that day and I have cried almost every single solitary day since then.
The next 9 months for my son consisted of hospitals, a stem cell transplant from his only brother, and being away from home until September. We returned home knowing the transplant had failed. He was so happy to be home. Between September and January 04, we tried to find a miracle...none existed and my son died January 16, 2004. He never cried, became angry or blamed anyone for his illness. He was strong emotionally to the end, wanting to spare his family further grief. He left a journal that at times comforts me and at other times, breaks my heart. I was a person of strong faith and belief in God. I am still after this long still finding myself spiritually. I used to pray to God everyday to protect my children and keep them safe. How do you pray for that now?
So life is supposed to go on after you lose your child, the love of your life...yes it does but as all of you here know and understand....we are different in ways that can't be put into words.
Thanks Pamela for starting this thread again. SG remains a place of support & comfort to this "club no one wants to belong to." Blessings, Linda.
Ds Kasey 9/30/82 - 1/16/04 DS Kipp 4/7/88 Adopted DD Desi 05/05/99 Adopted DS Eric 10/3/01 Adopted DS Michael 8/13/02
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Post by melody on Jan 2, 2006 1:23:22 GMT -5
Thank you Pamela!
Our Matthew was in a hurry to arrive. His due date was July 9,1984 but on the morning of the 8th, my water broke and off to the hospital we went. His daddy was a minister and he got out of preaching that day since there seemed to be something a little more pressing at the time.
I had to have Matthew by C-section. He was precious 21in. long, and 8.3 Blue eyes like the ocean. Dark hair which came back blonde.
Matthew loved anything about nature, frogs, flowers, butterflies, you name it, he loved it. He also adored his big brother, who was 2 years and 4 days older. They were inseperable. Best buddies.
When Matthew was four we decided to make a dream come true by going to Salvador, Brazil as missionaries. My husband grew up in Belo Horizonte for 10 years of his life. We laughing joke that he never asked me to marry him, just to go to Brazil with him and I assumed that meant marriage.
We began our preperations which meant leaving our home in Happy, Texas of 6 1/2 years. One day, as Matthew was helping me to deliver meals on wheels, he asked in the childish way, "Why does it hurt to do what Jesus wants us to do?" I didn't know how to answer but told him that I hurt, too and but that God would give us jewels in our crowns one day for all the time we hurt to do something good for Him.
We moved to Salvador, Bahia Brazil, December 7, 1989. We fell in love with the Atlantic ocean and we blessed that the three different houses we lived in were all within walking distance of the beach. Our last house, was only a five minute walk to the "Two Pools" a natural swimming hole when the tide was out and guarded by the farol of Itapoa, the lighthouse. I homeschooled our boys. We did everything together. They both spoke Portuguese. We loved it there.
Then, August 3 1991, Matthew awoke not feeling well. We spent the day playing games. That evening he was feeling better and we went to the beach to hunt for sea urchins and other wonderful creatures.
Sunday, Aug. 4, he had a fever. Monty and Micah went to church alone. Matthew had a feveral convulsion while they were gone. When Monty got home, we left Micah home alone knowing he would be ok with the neighbors around. Later our team mates picked him up and took him to their house.
We took Matthew to a children's clinic. The dr. there immediately thougth spinal menigitis. But we had to take him with a RX to another place to do the spinal tap. I sat in the car with Matthew for 30 minutes while Monty tried to make arrangements. They didn't do spinal taps for children so we had to find another place. They took my blue eyed boy into a room and them made us leave so they could do the spinal tap. IF I stop and think about it, I can still hear him scream from the pain of the needle.
The spinal tap came back NEGATIVE. We took the results back to the first dr. at the childrnen's clinic. She said he had the mumps. Gave us a RX for swellling.
We picked up Micah we went home. I slept with Matthew that night.
Monday Aug. 5. He wanted to watch tv and we got him down stairs on the couch. He needed to keep a bowl handy because he had the throwups. We talked to several Brazilian friends who told us that was normal. How could he have the mu,mps" He had been vacinated. Germ strains are different I was told by the dr.
Monday night, Matthew developed a head ache. Bad one. I drove him around in the car, like I did when he was a baby and had an ear infection and couldn't sleep. It calmed him then, didn't calm him this time. "You are my Mom. You are suspose to make me better, he told me.
I told him, I wish I could but I didn't know what else to do. But that when it hurt so bad that he couldn't stand it, he could ask Jesus to take away the pain and He would. I slept with him again.
Tues. Aug.6 Matthew began sleeping and dreaming. He took water and 7-up and was able to keep it down. Monty slept with him that night.
4 am Wed. Aug. 7 I awake to hear Monty and Matthew in the bathroom. He can't pea. It hurts. We get him down stairs by the phone. We first thought we had over medicated him. In Brazil, it is the consumers responsabilty to dilute the RX to the correct dosage and strength. On the way down the stairs, he lost his eyesight, he yelled it was dark, get me out of here. I told him, Dad had him rolled up in a blanket like a burrito and it was ok. Then he began counting in English and Portuguese. He tried to stand and couldn't. We called our teammates to aks them them to come get Micah. We left Micah asleep in the house, and rushed 35 miles down the coast to the children's clinic again.
Matthew was in the back seat, I crawled in with him. Monty drove furriously. I remember a bus pulled out in front of us and I screamed.
Matthew kept reaching out his hand into the air. I would take his hand and tell I was there and I was holding his hand and he would tell me, no,not you. This happened several times. Finally, in desperation I said, "What do you want Matthew? I will get it for you."
His last words as he slipped into coma was "I am trying to reach Jesus' hand." With those words, his little hand seemed to close around something in the air and he slipped into coma.
When we got to the clinic, Matthew was out and completely limp. It was difffernt dr. this time. She sent Monty across the street to the hospital to beg entrance to the ER while she had the office staff locate a dr. who would take Matthew as his patient. We couldn't get him to the hospital until we had a dr. but the hospital couldn't refuse entrance to a parent who was at the door. Strange, differnt culture.
We lost Matthew in the clinic but they brought him back. A dr. was found. Monty, the dr. and two nurses carried my baby in a sheet with another nurse holding the oxygen bottle across the street, into the hospital, through the lobby, up the elevator to the ER.
Monty and I sat huddled in the hall waiting for news. Another spinal tap was ordered. Monty and I took the spinal tap to the lab three blocks from the hosptial. It came back positive for pnemicocal bacterial menigitis. We were told it had a "window" when it could be present in the body but show NEG. That was what happened on Sunday. Tuesday, when we thought Matthew was sleeping, it was the early stages of coma. We didn't know. We didn't know. We were doing what we had been told.
For 54 hours we took turns sitting with our love, our little love. We sang, talked, read to him, kissed him. His feet were so pretty and smooth. We watched for the slightest smallest movement. We were told "coma mas por fundo" very deep coma. Thursday night, when I was with him, I told him, "I know I told you that when it hurt so bad that you couldn't stand it anymore to tell Jesus and He would make it better. I know you reached your hand out to Jesus and Jesus took your hand. IF you want to stay with Jesus, you can. It will be ok with me. I love you and I will see you soon." Under protest, I accepted friends' advice and went to the waiting room where Monty and I kinda of slept curled up together on the tile floor covered with the blanket we had brought Matthew to the hospital in.
7:00am We got to go in to see Matthew. His heart rate had been in the 30's but now it was up to 50 and had been all night. We were encouraged. The nurse said, the heart rate needed to be in the 70s. But we were so encouraged. I hugged hima nd told him I was going to call Granny and Granddad and tell them the good news. We found a phone. We got a little breakfast of fruit and juice. 8:10, my heart stopped and I told Monty we had to get to Matthew. When we got there, the drs. were in there with him. The dr. came out and said "Ja foi" He is gone.
And Matthew was young and he loved God and he was not for God took him home.
For a long time I was angry with God because I had trusted Him to take care of us. I had given up my home, family and friends, moved 7000 miles away to learn another language and culture and God didn't take care of me. Then one day, I realized it was Satan who wanted to destroy my faith and he took his best shot at me and I became no more angry with God but angry with Satan. One of these days, I WILL see my son again, and we will sit beside the crystal sea that flows from the throne of God and we will find little black sea urchins with tiny pink mouths, little candy cane shrimp. And we will both walk on the streets of gold with Jesus in the middle holding both of our hands. Satan can not take my HOPE away and I will not allow him to cheat me.
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Post by pschafer on Jan 3, 2006 23:52:42 GMT -5
My son P.J. Schafer died on March 23, 2003 at the age of 20 years old. He was playing Lacrosse for our local college, had a heart attack and died. It is very difficult for me to believe this is now my life. P.J. was my oldest son. He has a younger brother and sister. He was an athlete, an Eagle Scout, a good student and a friend to many. He lived his life to the fullest and we miss him more everyday. My problem now is letting go of the what ifs. I can't stop...it is something that I have to work out myself but I guess I'm just not there yet. We have so many stories in our family, our life was never normal...something funny usually happened. The memories and stories keep me going. P.J. was a protector of his sister, chelsea, who is 8 years younger. Many times I would find them snuggled together watching TV when I thought she was sleeping in her bed. P.J. and his brother Bryan were very close. They had very similar interests and loved to buy colorful tennis shoes. They were both athletes and played alot of sports together. My husband really bonded with all of them and it hurts me to see how sad my husband gets. He keeps everything inside, but he keeps P.J.'s memory alive in all sorts of ways. If anyone is interested in reading his website, it is www.mem.com, then go to Schafer and then P.j. or Paul. Thank you to Pam for initiating this "Come Share your child with us" site. My thoughts and prayers go out to each one of you as we all try to survive this horrible nightmare. Peace. Vivian
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Post by donnav on Jan 8, 2006 0:15:15 GMT -5
my name is Donna V where do i start? I have written and re written this so maney times. just so hard. Steven was born jan 22 1968. He had a rough time in life at 2 he brok his leg. and was dinosed with britle bones.over the years he had maney breaks but never let it get him down.he was in to magic at a young age and amazed everyone. he met a wounderful girl thay have 4 son`s. Steven was working out in ca to make money for his famley. thay were here in Mi. He planed to bring them to ca in a year or so or he was going to come back to Mi He was a porker dealler. for a while he worked here in Detroit Mi. but the money was better in Ca that is why he was out there.I will never forget that day i got the call from my ex husband in Ohio all he said was I want to talk to your Husband(he could not tell Me him self) I could tell by the way Jerry was talking somthing was wrong. when he hung up he sat down next to me on the bed and said Steven had ben in a car accident and was gone. I just screamed No.I then called My daughter in laws sister s I could not tell her on the phone thay said theay would go to her. I called my oldest son and my daughter to let thewm know. Then I went to see my daughter in law Jerry had to stop at the bank while he was in the bank i just had to try to call stevens cell phone. some one had said maybe it not him may be someone browered his car.i had to hold on to that hope so I called the cell phone and some one answered it. I said who is this it was the police in Palm springs ca. Ask who I was itold him I was Stevens morther and was hoping that there was a mistake made he said no it was true My dear son was gone. what keps going in my mind is he was out there all alone when it happned. I pray he knew how much we all loved him. I wear a braclet that says forever in my hart .My girl friend sent me a hart with Steven on it I wear every day.
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Post by ginamc on Jan 10, 2006 20:38:10 GMT -5
Kari was my third and last daughter. She was 8 years younger than Angela, and 5 years younger than Valerie. She died on March 16 of '04. She had been 21 years old for 15 days.
Kari was a happy child. She loved playing with her sisters and going to school. She loved our animals. She had long blonde hair that got very curly as she got older (like her dad and oldest sister) and was my only blue-eyed child. She played t-ball and softball, was in Campfire girls and had lots of friends. My husband and I worked opposite shifts so one of us was home with the kids.
When Kari was in fifth grade she was chosen to be one of 60 students in a special environmental and difficult school. She was very smart and interested in the environment. It was a very hard year for her and many nights were spent crying over the homework. That same year, my husband and I were having severe problems in our marriage. It was a year of upheaval for all of us.
Junior high was rough for Kari. I was concerned about her assigned school so I enrolled her in a Montessori school. Unfortunately, it wasn't what I expected and I learned she had been hanging out with some "undesir- able" kids. The following years she went to a charter school which seemed better but I eventually learned she had met a "man" while waiting for the school bus. I believe that man had a lot of power and influence over her.
The charter school ended with freshman year so I went out of our school district and got her into a "safer" high school. By junior year, I knew something was very wrong-she was rarely happy and I hardly saw her. She had fits of temper and was physically ill often. All during these years she maintained an A average, was on the Honor Society, did many hours of volunteer work, played on the tennis team, worked in a retail store and worked in the summer doing garden maintenance. It was like she was living two lives. Normal and something else. I just didn't know what.
During this time, her father was finally diagnosed with severe depression and psychosis after many years of drug abuse and abnormal behavior. Why it took us so long to realize, I don't know except that we were just living our daily lives and trying to survive. When Mike was on his medication, he was content and able to function although he still had a hard time working.
Kari graduated from high school in 2001, cum laude, National Honor Society and with full scholarships for her first year at college. She was accepted into the honors program at a local university. Her freshman year was very difficult and she ended up dropping honors but doing very well in her other classes. Four days before her sophomore year was to begin, her father died of cancer. He had been diagnosed only three weeks earlier. She and I felt it was best to take the semester off and go back in the winter. I hardly saw her all that fall. She completed winter semester with good grades. Summer of '03 was rough. She was ill much of the time with vague complaints and spent a lot of time in bed. She missed a lot of work. She was rarely home when she was feeling better.
One night she came home drunk. This was the first and only time I had seen her this way. She said she wanted to be with her father. The following day I set up an appointment for her to get intensive counseling. She went for 4 of 5 days of an out-patient mental-illness program, after having been diagnosed as severely depressed. She went to counseling a few times but that was all. She tried to start school in the fall but could only complete 11 days before she called to say she couldn't do it. I didn't see much of her again that fall.
Winter semester was coming and she decided she would try a junior college. She brought home the catalog and seemed interested in signing up for classes. She didn't, however. I kept encouraging her to see her counselor but she never went. She would say, "I will call tomorrow, mom" but she didn't.
The night before she died we went out to dinner together. We had not done this in many, many months. She seemed fine; normal. Her doctor had diagnosed her as bi-polar 2 weeks previously and she was on a new medication. After dinner I asked if it was okay with her if we stopped at the grocery store. I was sure she would want to go home so she could go out but she said "sure". I couldn't believe it! We had not been grocery shopping together in probably over a year. We had a good time wandering around the store, taking our time. She commented that she needed a new bathing suit as the new meds were making her gain weight. I told her it was early and we would wait a while. That night we went to bed and everything seemed okay.
The following morning I took my car in for new tires and Kari was supposed to get up and get ready so her car could go next. When I got home from the tire place, I called upstairs to her and asked her when she was getting up. She said her back hurt and she wanted to sleep some more. So I said I was going to lunch with her sister; did she want to come? No. Valerie and I went for lunch and then, on the way home, I asked her to stop at a little store I liked. We spent about 45 minutes there. Val dropped me off at home at about 1:45 p.m. When I went in the house I expected Kari to be in the shower or getting her hair fixed but she wasn't. I called upstairs to her and there was no answer. For a second I wondered if she had already gone out but her car was still home. I ran up the stairs calling her name and I remember thinking something was wrong. Her door was ajar and that was weird as she always kept it closed to keep the cats out.
I could see her feet through the door. She was laying on the floor next to the bed. Her skin was slightly blue, her mouth was open a little and her eyes were open. I remember thinking, she's dead. Her eyes were gray, not blue anymore. I kept screaming her name, thinking if I yelled loud enough, I would startle her alive. I pulled her into the hallway and tried to pound on her chest. I didn't know what to do. I ran downstairs and called 911 (after the phone rang right when I was going to grab it and I told the people to hang up-it was an emergency) and took the phone upstairs as the operator tried to teach me how to do CPR. You can't do CPR on someone and listen on the phone at the same time. I don't remember blowing in her mouth more than once and trying to press on her chest and I heard the sirens coming. I ran downstairs to unlock the door and put the dogs away and told them she was upstairs. They worked on her for about 1/2 hour I think. I called Val and left a message and called Angela. Angela and her fiancee came before the paramedics were done. After they took her away, we all immediately left the house. I haven't slept there since then. It should be sold, finally, next week.
After the autopsy, they told me she had been dead since about 1:00 p.m. She had a heart attack due to chronic cocaine use mixed with prescription anti-psychotics. I had no idea she was self-medicating. After the fact, I realized how blind I had been to the signs. She was screaming for help and I was deaf. I knew something was wrong, but never realized how deadly serious it was. I hope she can forgive me. I love her so.
She is buried near her father, where she said she wanted to be after he was laid to rest. Someday I will be there too. I still can't believe this has happened. I miss my tiny hon.
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Post by lost51705 on Feb 12, 2006 14:53:58 GMT -5
My son died may 17,2005,of congestive heart failure,pulmanaryedema,kidney failure.He is forever 22. I am very heart broken.Just when i thought i would be ok,i feel im right back to that awful day.Itruly miss him. He was my best freind.He did not deserve to die so young.Thank you for letting me write,to try to release some of this pain.Sincerely,Tammy(mom to wonderful Chad--forever 22.....
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Post by missingjason on Feb 12, 2006 17:20:14 GMT -5
Tammy, I'm so sorry you lost your precious Chad. The people here are very caring and kind; I'm glad you found us. Please come and talk as much as you can.
((((Hugs))))
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