1. Month

On this day last month my son was killed. Taken from me and the life that he looked forward to having. Taken from his siblings and family that loved him. Taken from his friends and those who had grown to know and love him. He had dreams of growing up and having his own life on his own. He wanted to go to college to learn more, find the answers to the questions he had about how things worked and to get a good job. He wanted to make me and everyone proud of him. I had dreams of the type of young man he would be. I looked forward to his phone calls home from college about girls and laundry and his classes. I wondered who he would marry and I already had all the stories of his youth planned out to tell his children one day. I looked forward to him being a father one day calling me and complaining about the mess and chaos his kids were causing and laughing at him and reminding him about when he was little. I’ve often thought about future holidays where all the boys come home and wrestle and show off in front of their girlfriends. I looked forward to him and his brothers being grown enough to become closer and best friends.

But those hopes & dreams will never happen. They will always be curious thoughts I will have when it’s quiet. I am now terrified of the thoughts I will have on the future dates of his 18th birthday. Prom. Graduation. All future holidays. I’m afraid of my thoughts when I see his friends growing up living the life my son won’t live. Will I be able to be happy for his friends? Or will I be filled with a jealous rage? How will I feel when his ex girlfriends find a new boyfriend?

I have read that I should focus on the 17 years 9 months that I had with my son. But I am selfish and that wasn’t enough time. We were just getting close to being able to be friends. He was old enough to swear around me. I let him stay up late. He had a job and car and paid $100 a month towards his car insurance. He was trusted to take his brothers to school. He wasn’t a little boy anymore. I want more time. I want more hugs. I want more time to be with him and let him know how much I love him and how proud I am of him. I want more time not just being his mom.

There isn’t a day that has gone by that I don’t think about him, the day at the hospital and seeing him at the hospital. The phone call I received from the school telling me Alexx had been in a wreck and I needed to go to UMC. I think about that morning. How beautiful the sky was. So beautiful I took a picture. What a lie. What a terrible, horrible day that was. Seeing him in the hospital is an image I keep trying to erase from my mind. I have seen my son in every state. Crying, happy, sick, throwing a temper tantrum, hurt by rocks, you name it… but seeing my son that way… I cry just thinking about it. The only comfort is from what I was told that he didn’t suffer. He didn’t know what happened. I must remind myself that his body was merely his shell. And he was fortune enough to have been given a very handsome one. Gosh, he had such gorgeous eyes and he gave the best big hugs.

One month is a milestone, I guess. But every day, I wake up, I dred the day. Every Wednesday, I think another week has passed. And now one month. It still feels like the day after. Nov 30. Some days, I hear his voice telling me it’s okay and to not be sad, others I feel no connection with him and the loss is felt deep inside. Some days I look at Facebook and just hide every post because it’s filled with happy-happy-joy-joy holiday family shit…I wonder who else has thought about Alexx today. The messages and cards have stopped. It’s now lonely. Quiet. Reality is setting in. Everyone is celebrating Christmas and spending time with family and no one wants to make me upset, I guess. Or no one wants to be reminded of something so sad as a child dying. I don’t blame anyone. I really don’t have any room in my broken heart to be really angry with anyone. I wouldn’t know what to do either bc no words or actions can take away this pain… I’m just surviving each day. I assume once the holidays are over and the kids return to school that perhaps it’ll be easier. There will be things to distract me. Right now we are supposed to be spending time with family and my older boys aren’t here… Larry isn’t here either. Elijah & Barron are with their dad. All of our family is far away. I am home with 3 children that have no idea the pain I am in. 3 children that need adults. It’s probably a blessing for me and my husband that the kids need us so much. I honestly don’t know what I would do if we didn’t have the children.

I am going to try and use this as an outlet. To get my thoughts and feelings out. I had said earlier that I don’t have room to be angry but that is incorrect… i am angry. I am angry that my son died. I am angry that he was in a car accident. I am angry that he passed another person and lost control of his vehicle and hit another vehicle head on. I am angry that he did not have a seatbelt on. I am angry I had to see my sons damaged body in the hospital. I am angry to have to make the decision to stop giving him blood and medications to keep him alive for us to say good bye. I am angry that Barron had to see him that way and say good bye to him. I am angry Elijah had to say goodbye over the phone. I am angry to have to comfort my children over the loss of their big brother. I am angry that my father in law died 6 days prior. I am angry towards the people who were not good people towards Alexx & Larry who seek pity and attention from people and try and act like they didn’t use them and toss them aside. I am angry that the truth about my sons death and the circumstances that led up to it may never be known. Im angry that my son died. I’m angry that I’m writing this all right now….