The pages of William's life run long. How does one take 2 3/4 years of a life, and throw it together with a few words. I can't. My intent when starting this was to share things that would go through my mind during his life. I wasn't able to really do that. I'm hoping to be able to put into words the days after the night he graduated from this physical life.

After his death, I was completely lost. Got up that morning, went into my mother's bathroom. Looked in the mirror and told myself, get a grip, you have to go to Restland and pick out his casket. You have to make the arrangements for his services. You have to be strong for Mindy and everyone else. Honestly I think my mother was the only person who knew how fragile I was. I had no clue of where to be. We are a small family. Due to the last few years, I really no longer had friends outside of nurses I knew. Dr. Strickland asked if I would like his minister to do the service. I accepted. We picked a fairly small chapel for the service. Was not real sure about a viewing, very glad I decided on it. I knew I wanted to be there with him. I didn't realize how many would be there. The day of his service people were standing everywhere and out the door. The whole hospital was there. Some little older lady had walked into the wrong Chapel at Restland. She was so taken by it, she stayed. When the services were over, everyone was outside except for the family. I kissed his forehead one last time, turned around and there was sitting Dr. Mize. He had not gotten up and walked out with the others. I walked over to him, sat down and touched his hand, he was in tears, he was hurting. I admit I was shocked to see him there. Once again, I find I'm trying to make somone else feel better, when in truth, he truly deserved the guilty feelings. By my walking over to him, touching his hand, he knew I forgave him. When I walked out of the chapel, every one was lined up as though a bride and groom would be walking out the chapel door. I do my best to smile, be hugged and speak to everyone there. It was so wonderful they all came. I knew they all loved him. I looked at someone and asked, who is taking care of patients. I'm told Children's called in pool nurses for that day.

The days to follow I was more lost than before. I would just go sit at his grave for the day. I'd sit there and talk to him, work the dirt that was piled on top of my son. DIRT, dirt is piled on top of my son. It still bothers me that he is in the cold ground. Awww..but he's not really there, right? Right? He's there to me. That is where I put him. My Bible (King James Version) says death is eternal sleep until Jesus comes again. So, even though I may refer to William as my angel, I do not believe he is anywhere but in a coma state in the ground til Jesus comes again. It's the physical that we all miss. The smiles, the hugs, the things we did together. His spirit is not here hugging me or playing peek-a-boo with me or laughing at something.

He would be 28 this year. People have tendencies to think, heck that was 20 years ago. She's over it. I am not, will not ever be *over it*. I can't get *over it*. He was not an *it*. I don't dwell, or cry about it daily, weekly or monthly. A simple song might be on the radio that turns me to tears. When someone tells me they lost a child, they know how I feel. Or lost their mom or dad, they know how I feel. No they don't and I don't know how they feel either. I have no idea what a person who's 16 year old daughter or son was killed in a car accident feels. I can't begin to know how a mother who will never go prom dress or wedding dress shopping with her daughter feels. Everyone who has lost a child, be it a older child or younger child, will miss things they will never get to do with that child. I share and know the helpless empty feeling of someone you spent all your time with taking care of, loving them from your insides out being gone physically from your life. That doesn't mean I know how another person who lost someone felt on a whole.

Being told he's in a better place. That was of no value to me. As a parent, I can honestly say I have no clue if he's in better place or not. I've not been there. As a rule in life, our babies are not somewhere we have never been. What I know is my son graduated from this physical form of life before I did. For me, there is no better place for my child than here, with me to take care of. Don't missunderstand, I have faith in The Lord. I know William's life served a wonderful purpose. I see it within my grand children who have hirschsprungs. I saw to many things within the years of being at the hospitals to question why things happen. It is a totally pointless question. It's a why that will not get answered by verbal words for human understanding. Angry, lost and in a state of don't want to live, don't care anymore, does not change the loss. A point comes you make yourself, get up in the morning, breathe and look around you everyday. It becomes a way of life again. Finding the joys of living, and figuring out, you now have a relationship with death.

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Artwork:Vikings Daughter
tubed and used with permission
Artist: William Whittaker
©Blutriste
1999