I lost my son Dalton, June 16, 2017. He was riding his Motorcycle, lost control and hit a concrete light pole. He died instantly. He was quite a character, one of a kind. He was the warrior for the underdog, a sponge for any type of knowledge (though dyslexic and basically illiterate), up for any prank, loved children and animals. He was always bringing home strays, whether animal or human. It seems his life was just coming together. He had a dream job at Harley Davidson, and a new bike. He loved that bike. He had made amends with his big brother, they had never gotten along before. They were even living together. He had a new girlfriend and they were serious. He was getting the opportunity to try his hand at stand up comedy. Everything was coming together. And now he is gone. Why? I miss him terribly.
I am not a stranger to sadness, but this is beyond what I had previously experienced. I wonder if there will be a day when I wake up and not be in utter despair. Will I ever experience joy again? I live in fear that my youngest son will die from an overdose. In fact I was sure it would happen at one time. I planned his funeral in my head. When the police showed up to tell me about Dalton's death, I assumed they were there about Cole. They were always there for Cole. Cole is clean at the moment (5 months), but it only takes one mistake. Cole has actually been my rock during all of the planning of viewing and memorial. He even delivered a beautiful eulogy he had written for his brother. He always idolized Dalton. Their father died several years ago, so they have all endured their share of losses. Praying for healing and peace.