Every day I have to remind myself as I get up in the morning that Richard will no longer come walking through the door asking “what’s for dinner, Mother?” As I go through the day I still am haunted by all the questions: the “woulda, coulda, shoulda,” done questions, yes, even after a year and seven and a half months since his death. Some days are worse than others:
This past weekend, as I was looking for something to watch on TV, my attention was captured by a news alert about the shooting in Arizona. I was shocked, as I am sure everyone else was. And as the day progressed, I found myself glued to the TV for more information. The devastation brought by the sick mind of this young man just broke my heart again.
When we were told of the death of the youngest, 9 year old Christina, I found myself thinking of those first days and hours after Richard was found dead, and I just wanted to grab her parents and hold on. I know what they are going through, the fog that surrounds them, the pain they’re suffering; its overwhelming.
Then last night (Wednesday) I had thought to watch the “memorial” service being held for those killed. I was again heart broken as I saw what should have been a respectful, thoughtful, prayerful memorial turned into an absolute mockery! It seemed more like a circus or pep-rally complete with the t-shirt souvenirs. I turned to some old reruns instead. I don’t know if any of Christina’s family was there, but I know if it had been my son they were using for this outrageous gathering I would have walked out!!! I would have been absolutely insulted to have the death of my son used in such a disrespectful way as I saw happening last night.
I felt just as angry about this so called memorial as I was when I heard the “Westboro Baptist” group was going to be there to protest at this child’s funeral.
Today (Thursday) there were two funerals I concerned my thoughts for; the one for Christina in Arizona, 9 years old, and the other just down the road in Frankfort for a high school junior, Trista, killed Saturday in a car accident. My thoughts are for the families of these children who died too soon, as our own precious Richard did. My heart aches for their families, for their pain knowing their lives will be forever changed. They too will wake in the mornings and have to remember their precious child will no longer walk into the kitchen to ask, “what’s for dinner, Mother”.
I thank God for the time we had with our son. He was such a joy, I will miss him always and I guess as I experience this journey through grief, I will continue to suffer the “woulda, coulda, shoulda” questions even though I know it doesn’t matter. He’s gone. Richard is with God now, of that I am absolutely positive. I just wish, as do all those other parents, we could have had him for a while longer… but it still wouldn’t be enough when they die too soon.
Photo Credit:
Christina Taylor Green
http://www.kpho.com/image/26414686/detail.html
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