Replies to This Discussion

Permalink Reply by Karen R. on September 26, 2011 at 2:28pm

Hello Grace and everyone. You are right about all the "what ifs" and feeling beaten that we could not save our children. This is one part of life that I could have done without, I never thought that I would ever know this kind of pain, it's always "someone else", now we are all the "someone else". In a perfect world, we would all live forever, happy and peaceful, unfortunately, that is not the reality. The comment that I hate the most, is "these things happen for REASON"!!.......there is no reason, it's NOT "ok", it's simply unacceptable. The other comment that is in a close tie with that one is " he's in a BETTER place"!!!..........what could be "better" than my son being here with me and all of his family and friends? He's supposed to be here, enjoying his young life and learning from mistakes. He should be here with all of his friends that I always see hanging out and laughing.......some of them turn away or pretend like they don't see me becausethey don't know what to say to me, some of them are not his true friends. They have no idea what a small comfort it would be to me if they mention him to me, it would be a reassurance that they haven't forgotten my baby. I know that I shouldn't take it personal and I don't always because I know that they don't want to say the "wrong" thing to me.  This is just all so hard and so painful that no one could possibly understand unless they are experiencing this kind of hell.

thanks to all for listening, again and again.

Permalink Reply by Grace on September 26, 2011 at 5:52pm

I can relate to the "He's in a better Place"   and it happens for a reason....  and now I am even angry with the Idea of God and Jesus..... when people talk religion.to me I say God and I are at ODDS with each other.... and they want to tell me Not to feel that way about God... Of Course they have thier kids with them yet...

Permalink Reply by Karen R. on September 26, 2011 at 10:07pm

Hey Grace and everyone, you are right....................those people all have their children!

Permalink Reply by Julia Nichols on May 31, 2016 at 1:04pm

Latisha, I am sending you a strong hug. I am so sorry for the loss of your precious daughter in the accident. Please know that we parents always blame ourselves, but accidents are accidents. The only thing that helps me in the loss of my daughter is to try to remember that she is always with me in my heart, and that love is eternal. Your daughter is always with you. God bless you.

Permalink Reply by Allan on November 11, 2009 at 11:31pm

I guess I am now a member of a fraternity-sorority that I wish to God I could unjoin.
Thank you all for being here. It is going to take me awhile to work through my feelings so I hope you will bear with me. Laura welcomed me the other day and she asked me to post a picture of my daughter. Unfortunately the last picture I have is of her gravesite at Ft. Sam Houston in San Antonio. I couldn't get any further than that - I shut my computer down for the night. Sorry. I'll work on finding something.

It has been 9 months since Callie died on Feb. 2, 2009. My wife (her step-mom) and I last saw her alive in January when we went to visit her at Ft. Carson, Colorado Springs. It was a great visit but she was complaining of being anemic and w/stomach virus. Her husband was in Iraq and she was there alone with her 13month old. Her older boys, 13 and 7 had just returned a over xmas holidays to live w/their dad in Texas. Callie was an Iraq army vet, now in national guard. She was a specialist in chemical corps - trained in nuclear, biological, chemical hazmat. A stupid profession but it paid the highest enlistment bonus and Callie wanted to get her finances straight after her divorce. I can't help but think that somehow there might be a connection with her tour in Iraq and her illness, but we will never know that.

At the end of January 2009 Callie called complaining of being sick. She went to the clinic on post. They said she had pneumonia. They sent her to the hospital in Colo. Springs. Callie called the next day and asked if my wife & I could come help take care of her baby. She called the morning of Feb 2 and said "Dad, I need you to come soon." I told her I would be there on the next flight out. That was our last conversation. The hospital called at noon and said her blood pressure dropped and she was being moved to ICU. The chaplain called at 5 and said she had coded and they were doing CPR. Sometime later they called to say she had died. It took 3 days to get her husband back from Iraq. He was devestated of course, but has taken up the job of being a single dad. He just got out of the service a week or so ago.

Reading your stories I know that we all have our own unique crosses to bear, and my story is far from the worst. My other children and grandchildren are a blessing. I have many caring and supportive friends. And I want to be healthy. But there is a huge hole in my heart. Inside I am broken. I am empty. I do ok most days. Antidepressants and Ambien help at night. But it is pretty crummy and shows no signs of getting better. I am hurting.

That's enough for now. Thanks for listening and letting me join you on this journey.

Allan

Permalink Reply by Gail Richardson on November 12, 2009 at 4:22pm

Hi Allan and 'welcome' to this group that no-one ever wanted to be a member of. I am so, so sorry for the loss of your lovely daughter Callie. I can only imagine the shock of hearing that an seemingly healthy girl had passed away so suddenly and unexpectedly. Thank you for sharing her story, it takes great strength to put into words.
Of course you have a huge hole in heart - we all do I'm afraid and even though our stories are all different we all share that pain and emptiness that losing a child brings.
You are still in the first stages of grief - please know that there is no time-line for this kind of journey, no eta and no etd - just an existence without end. You will have to learn to be patient with yourself and allow time to gently ease the pain by taking one day at a time.
I've been on this journey for eight and half years now - my daughter Meshael died from a rare genetic disorder called Fanconi Anaemia. My journey started, I suppose, before she died and I lived for many years in the knowledge that she wouldn't always be here. This enabled me to 'get used to the idea' I suppose but didn't go anyway to stopping the pain which seemed relentless at times.
As bereaved parents we have to learn to re-invent ourselves - no easy task. The good news is that time will slowly allow you to heal, never completely of course, and life will become easier.
I'm sure you have many questions about her illness which may never be answered - that will be hard for you and I wonder if there is anyway you could find out more information? Maybe not now but in time?
Allan - life will become bearable with time. The bad days will lessen - then come back and hit you like a sack of red hot bricks. The first year is the most difficult, there are so many anniversaries and holidays to get through and its tough. Just know that we are here for one another because no-one knows the pain like we do. And no-one can understand the desperate loneliness of losing a child unless they've walked this walk. This is a place to rant and rave, cry and scream and in time, laugh and remember the good times with a smile. So please feel comfortable to say what you feel and if we can, we'll help you to make sense of this senseless place we are in.
Take care
Gail

Permalink Reply by Allan on November 14, 2009 at 10:43pm

Dear Gail,
Thank you so much for writing. Just having a place where I can go has been a big help already. I have felt that I should get into a grief support group but there just arent many options in my town. It is good to have others, even on line that I can share with. Right now my middle daughter Jessica (23) and her 2 year old have moved home with us. Jessica is pregnant (due in April) and her husband (another soldier in the family!) is in Iraq. The house is full of life again, and it has been good for us all to be able to talk and reminisce about good times and not just think about death & loss.

This week we are going to be getting a box of pictures back from Callie's husband Shawn. He is moving and wants for us to store and keep them until his little boy gets older. These were ones of her childhood, with school pics, old report cards, kindergarten drawings and the like. I think I am ready to see them again.

You are more than 8 years into your loss. I can't imagine what that is like. Early on I dreaded the start of each new month and I remember saying I don't think I can do this month after month. I guess you just get busy and at some point you look up and it has been a year - and then two and then 3. I like your observation that we must re-invent ourselves. So much of my life has been tied up in my role as a dad. That is going to take some reconsideration on my part...what do I do now? Oh sure I have my other kids and they need me, but one of them is missing. I dont think I could have ever guessed that the pain would be that great.

Thanks for listening.

Permalink Reply by melissa whaley on December 17, 2009 at 8:09pm

allan you may want to look up the compassionate friends they have local chapter meetings probobly one close to you. They also have an online chat room if you need it.

Permalink Reply by Sandra K Wernecke on December 18, 2009 at 10:00am

I lost my son Kevin, who was only 25 years old, on 11-4-2009. My college-educated son, who was working for a major corporation in Denver, Colorado as a computer network operator. I live in San Antonio, TX. I miss him so much and am struggling daily to cope and to understand. I am seeing a therapist twice a week which is helping, but I still cry all the time. My son died of a drug overdose, and I feel the blame, as I passed the addiction gene to him. I am a recovered alcoholic, as my Dad is a recovered alcoholic. We were both functional alcoholics, as we worked and retired from our jobs, and then became sober. My 84-year-old Dad is still alive; I am 55.

My son called me the middle of September and said he lost his job due to his drugs. I brought him to San Antonio and put him into rehab for 30 days. I picked him up from rehab on 10-29-09 and he came to live with me and his stepfather. Three days later at 2:00 in the morning the police called; they had found him passed out in his car at the back of a shopping mall. We took him to the emergency room and he was okay, had passed out on drugs. Kevin and I had a lot of talks in the next coming days, and went to AA and NA meetings together. I thought things were getting better. After he got out of rehab he worked with me and his stepfather on our rental properties, getting them ready to rent. Then on Wednesday we took a day off from the rental properties. I last saw him at noon, he said he was going to Sprint about his phone. I heard him come back to our house; he was staying upstairs, and told him let's go out to eat tonight around 6:00 pm. He said okay, but didn't come downstairs at 6:00. I went upstairs to get him and found him on the floor, with blood on the rug, but he was alive. I called 9-1-1 and his stepfather, then did what I remembered from CPR class on keeping him breathing and his heart going. He was alive when the paramedics arrived, and they made me go downstairs. They couldn't revive him, said an artery or vein had popped in his lungs and his lungs filled up with blood.

All I can think about is why didn't God take me instead of him. Kevin had everything going for him, and his whole life to live - get married, have children, etc. - I had done all of that. I thought about taking my own life, but have a daughter and husband who love me, and I can't do that to them.

I still can't accept that he is gone. My therapist says I'm in the denial stage of the stages of grief. I have to work through these stages.

My friend told me about this website, and I'm hoping to get some comfort here. And maybe I can comfort others in the future. Thank you for reading my story.

Permalink Reply by Laura Villarreal on December 18, 2009 at 12:33pm

Sandra, I am so sorry for your loss. I too live in San Antonio but my 33 year old daughter lived and died in North Pole, AK. Words are so inadequate at a time like this...
Take life a moment at a time as I have found there are no guidelines for grieving. We all grieve differently and in our own time. I have found so much comfort and understanding on this website; it has truly been a source of strength for me.
Be kind to yourself and take care.
Sincerely,
Laura

Permalink Reply by Sandra K Wernecke on December 19, 2009 at 4:46pm

Laura,
Thank you for your comforting words. I am having such a hard time this holiday season without my son as he always comes here to San Antonio for Christmas. A lot of people are worried about me, but they don't understand the loss like you all do. They mean well but say unappropriate things that make it worse. I am so thankful I found this group.
Love,
Sandy

Permalink Reply by Laura Villarreal on December 19, 2009 at 5:24pm

Sandra, what a wise, caring friend you have! Like you, I am counting the years...I am 53; so while another 30 earth years seem like an eternity I believe it will be here in the blink of an eye. My religious upbringing (Catholic) tells me I will be with her again so this is what sustains me day to day.

At this point in time I choose not to work so I check in here several times a day. Maybe one day we can chat online.

Take care.
Laura

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