A Father and His Son

It goes against the natural order of things, to have to bury your own child. I am not alone on this, as many families across the USA, and around the world, have been in this exact same set of circumstances. Tommy left us in November of 2009, and there are not enough tears to fill up a bucket. As men, it is ingrained in us, whether biologically or otherwise, not to cry, but cry us men do. We may show our emotions in ways not seen, silently, or through other means, but behind closed doors, tears are shed. A few weeks ago Alex, pictured here, asked about a picture of his older brother's handprint that is on our bedroom wall. I was able to tell him "that's your brother's hand painting", before later on, bursting out in tears. It hurt so bad, but it is my duty to tell him everything about his brother, and what Tommy meant to all of us, as well as to so many other people, who were a part of his lives.

I'm thankful. Tommy lived five years on this Earth, but he walked tall. I am grateful to God that he was loved, and that not only our family, but countless family that we didn't know exist with other last names, were in his corner. Our family is thankful for those who continue to support us, and even in the pain, we continue to meet people who inspire us, and keep us moving forward. Walking tall. Yesterday at Hillsborough Vineyards we met so many more of these angels, and it is with profound thanks, to have drank some wine with them, along with helping a good cause. One particular moment stands out yesterday, and that's when Alex showed up. It was comforting to walk with him, down by the vines, where the grapes are procured for the manufacture of wine. The views, just walking with Tommy's younger brother, gave me a greater appreciation for all of the love I have witnessed, even amongst the trail of tears. This walk, and his kiss at the end, made it all that more sweet.

Today is Memorial Day. There are countless families, who miss their son or daughter, who protected our great nation, and allowed this event to take place. There are no words. I am thankful that I was able to walk with my little guy, who's looking more and more like Tommy everyday, down by those vines and just "take it all in." Twenty one gun salutes will be fired today across this great country, in honor of these families. I don't have the ability to do so, because frankly, I dont want to get locked up firing my handguns or rifles in the air in honor of them, from my front yard. Yet, I am in my heart. To all those men and women, and their families who sacrified, whom gave all, thank you for that opportunity for a simple man to walk with his boy, and just have "that moment." Life is a challenge each and every day, but it is so much better due to the wonderful families that continue to fight epilepsy with love, and to those brave souls who made yesterday possible. 21 guns in my heart, yesterday, today, and always.