Saturday, February 14, 2015

I'm So Sorry- A Facebook note from 2/14

Went to a store at Oakleaf today with my sister and my 2 girls. As we were leaving, we see a guy pulling a stroller and holding a gas can. We pull over and ask if he wanted us to go get the gas for him so he could get the baby out of the cold. He gladly accepted the help and told us where he was parked. He seemed upset and mentioned he just got a c...all that his brother was dead. We left to get the gas and didn't even know what to think of the situation. As we approached the van, he was almost back to the car and visibly shaken. I poured the gas in for him while my sister and girls stayed in the car. When I asked if there was anything else I could do for him, he responded with the all too familiar words "only if you can bring the dead back". Oh how I've thought those exact words and probably even spoken them on more than one occasion. Oh the pain of life changing in an instant! I asked if he had someone to be with him and if he was ok to drive home. He said someone was coming to the house and that he was only a few minutes from his house and would be ok to drive. As I went back to the car, I see him clinging to his son, sitting on the ground, sobbing. My sister agreed to let me drive him home and follow close behind. As we drove to his house, he told me that he was hoping it wasn't true. He knew his younger brother was going down a bad path and he had hoped it would lead to jail, not death :(. He wasn't sure what to tell his mother. He said she was on the way to his house and was scared she would beat the cops there and find him dead. His story continued in today being his 2 year wedding anniversary. His wife is divorcing him. He has been drug free for 6 months and his wife won't give him another chance. He then says, this isn't making it any easier. I'm sure his body is craving for the escape that drugs provide. I reminded him that no matter what, even if his wife never takes him back, he has a son who needs him clean. I can only hope he remembers those words in the days and weeks ahead as he attempts to navigate the new normal of life without his younger brother. His life is falling apart around him and I'm a total stranger, given very limited time to impact his life and moment of grief. Here I am, the should be expert on grief, faced with a seemingly impossible to answer question... "What do I say?" There are no 2 griefs alike. Not matter how different or similar your circumstances are, one thing is certain- no two people grieve alike and the same person doesn't grieve the same every time. What do I say?! The only thing I know to say... "I'm so sorry". There are no words in that moment to heal the hurt and shock. There's nothing I can do to change what has happened but I can let him know that I'm sorry about his loss. Did I cause it? No. But something about I'm so sorry seemed to make me feel validated in my pain after losing our babies. That my grief was recognized as something worthy of acknowledgement. I don't know where this man's road will lead but I can only hope and pray that he forever remembers that I'm sorry he lost someone he loved. That his brother, no matter the life and path he was on, was worthy of the acknowledgement as a person and life. As we pull up to the house, he runs to the officers and gets confirmation that his brother is dead. He comes over to the van where I'm sitting with his son (probably 16 months old) and says he'd take it from here. Once again, I tell him I'm so sorry. He gives me a hug and sobs on my shoulder for about 30 seconds. How I wish there was some magical way to alleviate the all too familiar pain of losing a loved one! As I'm walking to my sister's car, he drives off, away from the house. Since he had a young child with him and didn't seem in a condition to drive, I walked over to let the officers know. They suggested that I call him and try to see if he'd return. I'm sure the officer thought I was a crazy lunatic when I told him that I didn't know the man. I only helped him get gas and get home because I was concerned about the child and his safety. As I'm walking away, the mother pulls up to the house. Since it was technically a crime scene, she wasn't allowed on the property. I witnessed them informing her that her son was deceased. I saw her drop face first to the ground in terror and anguish. This woman I've never met, but I felt so much heartbreak for her in that moment. The overwhelming pain of losing a child. I couldn't help but flashback to those dreaded ultrasounds where we heard "there's no heartbeat". She had received that very news about her grown son. There I stand in shock and once again, speechless. I muster the strength to say the only thing I knew, "I'm so sorry, mama. I'm so sorry". I couldn't leave out the mama part and I don't know why. Being called mama in regards to a child who's no longer earthside seemed to help me in my grief. Whether it was because my babies never made it earthside and I found comfort in being acknowledged as their mom or if it was simply being called mama, even in reference to your dead child. At one point, she looked into my eyes and I almost lost it. The pain in that moment was so real and again, I could only say "I'm so sorry". I'll never know if my words impacted these total strangers but I know the experience will forever live in my memory and hopefully touch the heart of my 9 year old who witnessed the entire thing. As we left the house, she began to ask questions. We had the chance to talk about how our actions and words will most likely be forever remembered by the man we helped. She asked questions about why they didn't take him to the hospital and why they weren't allowed to go inside. It gave me a chance to talk to Kaitlyn about how he most likely died from making bad choices- the choice to use drugs and too much. She said that's why she's never gonna smoke or do drugs. I can only hope this memory comes to mind if/ when she's given the chance to "just try it". As we get closer to home, she expresses concern about it getting dark before she's had a chance to shoot her new BB gun from granny & papa. We had the chance to talk about how I really want her to shoot it and partake in the activity with her. Then, we talked about the possible life changing effects of our actions. Would I be bummed if she didn't get to do what she's been anticipating all afternoon? Yes! She and I agreed that helping him was more important and that the gun will be there even if she didn't get to use it tonight. The chance to help this stranger helped show her heart, and mine, the importance of loving others, even strangers. I hope we will never be the same after today! I hope the strangers received a glimpse of love from strangers in possibly one of their darkest moments. I hope my daughter sees Christ's love played out in an act so simple yet impactful. I hope the child is given a chance at a bright future because a stranger cared enough to help and remind his dad how much his son needed him. I hope...

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