A Ride Home, My Son in the Morgue

The pain of November 4th, 2009 will never go away. A lot of events are simply erased from my memory, or in crushed, little pieces from that night. My son's body, CPR, flashing blue and red lights, panic, anger, shock, and a stupid red book on grief. After hours awake I finally laid down in the bed. How could I be in the bed while my son's body laid in a morgue? Alone! My boy was completely alone, and although I never set foot in here, him lying in a storage area surrounded by the bodies of others.

He was not alone, as He had already gone to Heaven, his body just being the physical remainder and his soul already with God. Yet I remember sitting upright sweating, thinking about this, and what a horrible feeling it was. Just a short time ago, I had wished him a good nap, and now he was dead. That's right, gone forever from our lives, this vibrant boy whom loved to smile and laugh. A house that had been full of laughter had been changed to one with a drapery of pain, a place that I wasn't sure I could even stand to be in. My son wasn't in the house, and although I couldn't sleep well, I did from pure exhaustion of which I had never experienced.

Right now, there is the body of a child in a morgue. There are families in grief, just grasping the fact that their lives are not going to be the same. All of their dreams, their children they have cherished and been through so much with, are gone. The initial shock of losing a child is different for all people, as we are all individuals, yet at the same time there is a shared pain. The past week has been especially hard for three families, one of whom lost their daughter in a tragic boating accident yesterday. They have to face a new reality, one that they might have thought could happen, but now realize it very much does so.

Their spirits are hurting, the very essence of their lives missed. In the coming days, they are going to have to go through even more pain. They are going to have to select clothing that their child wore, place it upon them, and say goodbye again. There will be tears, and a glassful of pain, that's going to seem as if its not ever going to be empty from all of the crying. Waves of pain will hit them as if its a tornado, followed by moments of reflection, and also levity. It is a strange process, but I hope they will be comforted in knowing they are not alone. This new reality stinks right now, as it always will. Yet the "new reality", may also teach them new lessons, albeit painful ones that cut right to their souls. Yet, even with this hurt, may they know that they shall get through, not over this. Along this road, this one full of pain and a knife to the soul, they will find out how much they loved their children, how many love them, and rest assured that your little boy or girl is no longer in pain. They are with God, and its okay to be angry with God as well. That's proof of His existence, and that your child is not alone, nor are you.