The day my son died, a part of me died with him…
I went to work that morning. Clueless about what was going to unfold only a few hours later. Clueless that an important part of my life had already slipped away into eternity only a few hours before. When tragedy comes knocking on your door, there are things you never forget.
I remember sitting at a computer at the back of the clinic. I had been making a few patient phone calls and sending out a few prescription refill requests. I’m a Cancer Nurse at my day job. We weren’t supposed to have our cell phones with us, and that day, THANK GOD, I was actually following the rules. (I would have received a frantic call from my other son in his shock)
Now thinking back about not having my phone available, I missed seeing my son before they moved him, and this one thing I feel cheated about. That choice was taken from me, and it’s one of the things I needed to come to terms with.
My manager came asked me to come with her. I assumed she was calling me into her office to share a project she wanted me to work on. Instead, I was led into our conference room and there sat my husband. It was about 12:00 noon, and I smiled at him, thinking he was coming to take me to lunch.
The atmosphere changed really quickly, and I noticed there was a solemness in the air. Without him speaking a word, I asked him what was wrong. Before he could get a word out, I asked him which child… The room was starting to spin. I began to experience almost an out of body type of phenomenon. I was hearing him, but at the same time, I wasn’t there. I was already groaning in a way I had never cried before.
He shared it was Brandon. I already knew he was gone. He continued, but the words began to sound muffled. I was screaming, but it wasn’t a regular scream. It was the most horrific pained groaning. I had never made those type of crying/screaming sounds before. This was something so deep and painful, there are no words to describe the utterances coming from my heart.
I began to cry “I can’t do this. I can’t do this. I can’t do this.” The staff sat me down in a chair. I was limp as a dishrag. Our beautiful boy. Our firstborn. Gone. Forever in this lifetime. Patients were all in the chemo bay. I think they though someone had gotten a cancer diagnosis from the doc and was moaning and crying. No. It was me. My baby was gone. He really wasn’t a baby. He was 36 years old. He was my baby though. My firstborn.
How was I ever going to face the next few days? Or the rest of my life?
After what seemed to be an eternity, but I know it was only about 15 minutes, I was led outside and into the car of a church member who had driven Mike there. Mike got my car, and I rode with Donald down to my other son’s house where everyone else was waiting for me.
I wanted to see my son. I wanted to hold my son. In desperation, I called my husband, and asked to see Brandon. Mike told me the police would not let me touch him. Well, I’m here to tell you, there is no one that would have kept me from touching and holding my son. They would just have had to shoot me to keep me away. They had just moved his body to the coroners office though. All I wanted to do was hold him one more time.
Much of the rest of the day was a blur. Family and friends came to my younger sons home. I was walking down a road I never wanted to walk down. No parent ever wants to walk down this road. A part of my heart died that day. January 17th, 2017.
They say it happened around 3:00 AM. There was a neighbor who was up and smoking on his porch. He said he heard a gunshot sound but did not know where it was coming from.
As I thought back to that day, I realized something very unusual had happened early that morning. I woke up close to 3:00 AM for a bathroom run. I couldn’t go back to sleep. I was even up at 4:30 AM posting on Facebook. I remember falling back to sleep at 5:45 for an hour before I had to get up for work. I never stayed awake after a quick bathroom run. This is the first time this had ever happened.
So much is unknown about the death and dying. I know we are spirit beings inside an earthly shell. Why was I so awake and unable to go back to sleep that morning? At the time of his spirit leaving this earth? Did his spirit stop to wake me up and say goodbye for now? I just don’t know. I’d like to think he stopped by.
I miss him so much. A part of me died that day. By the way, the picture featured with this post is actually a picture Brandon had staged of himself in 2012.