It All Started With A Phone Call

A year ago, Saturday, I knew something was not quite right. Christopher's work had called me and ask that I pick him up; he was in a daze, running on auto pilot and just wasn't him self. When I asked him what was wrong he told me he took his pills out of order (which if he did - would cause him to be sleepy). The next morning I got up and let him sleep in; praying that whatever was facilitating all of this would be able to be slept off.

He woke up around 1pm, thanked me for letting him sleep so late, but that I should have woken him up so he could spend time with Ethan and I. I could see in his eyes that something was wrong, but what - I couldn't put my finger on it, nor wrap my head around it. After making us some lunch we sat down to eat and Christopher took one bite from his sandwich and told me that he was tired and was going back to bed. Bells, alarms and being on the cusp of panic I let him go back to bed, but knew that I had to start forming my strategy quickly - I knew in my gut something wasn't right.

As soon as he was asleep I put Ethan down for a nap and raced straight for his pain medicine, taking two and three stairs at a time and if I was playing out some bad made for TV movie scene. I was sure that I had determined the crux - he was/had overdosed on his pain meds. It was the only thing I could think of (or that my mind would allow me to think of at that moment) - why would he sleep all day and not have a cohearnat thought? I looked at the label - refilled 7 days ago - 60 pills were missing - holly effing crap! I told my self over and over again not to get overwrought - there has to be other pills in his pill case that he carried around. There is no way he took almost 10 pills a day - he's only suppose to have 2-3 a day.

I dashed like mad to his pill case; there was only one pain pill in there. All sorts of expletives came to mind when the mental math, plus the overall visual of Christopher and knowing that one pain pill was like taking a hit of heroin came crashing into my head in one of the most vicious collisions I have mentally allowed my self to have. I called the doctor to get his thoughts on the matter and of course I get the - "leave a message and someone will call you back". I wanted to scream - "you a$$! what did you do to the one I love!" Instead, I left every detail twice and my number three times. I then hung up and called our neighbor to watch Ethan - I knew for sure in my mind's eye that he was going to have me take Christopher to the hospital to have his stomach pumped. I just knew it - I still had hope.

Right as the phone rang, my neighbors came knocking at the door and as almost planned down to the second by God. I got the news that literally dropped me to my knees and ripped my hope that had my knuckles white from holding on to it so tightly in those few minutes from my heart, mind and soul. The strength that had keep me from losing it the past 16 months was thrown out the window as if it was in some bad mob movie. It was as if a weight was placed on my shoulders and I didn't know what to do with it. So I let it crush me. I let it consume me for that moment. "You let 5 seconds of fear in - because that's all you need to give you strength - any more than that and it will drown you with it."

The rest of the day is a blur. Maybe because I blocked it out - maybe because it was just that - a blur. But out of that day I remember the pain. The pain of knowing that Christopher was going to die, the agony of knowing Ethan was going to grow up without his loving daddy, the torment of how in the hell was I suppose to do this and all the while thinking - "God picked the wrong hero to do this".

Here it is a year later and yet time makes it feel like it was only yesterday and yet also 5 years ago. I've become stronger (even though I hate that word, but that's for another post), I've gone through every emotion in the book - and then some when you look up the word grief. I've also been knocked down a few times, by those that surround me and those that know nothing about me. I have put faith in knowing that this had to happen as odd as it sounds. This, in some sick way, is what will mold Ethan for something later in life. What?, I don't know. Maybe he finds the cure for cancer, because of his dad. Maybe he shares his dad's story with someone who goes through the same thing and it touches them deeply enough to find hope their situation in life. Who really knows. I know I don't. That is the beauty and atrocity of it all - we don't know why and we might never will. And the only person who does know - doesn't often share his ways with us.

So as my process goes - another ring will come off Saturday. I put up my future, to remember my past - one that I will always remember, always love and always have a place in my heart.

Somewhere In Between - Lifehouse