A family continues to grieve over the loss of their little boy, Josiah, who was killed when he was struck by a car. He died before they could even get him into the ambulance despite resuscitative efforts.
My name is Carrie Rosamund Trager, and I am the mother of two kids, Tyson Blair, now 8, and Amanda Michelle, who is now seven. We had another son, Josiah Luke, but he died almost two years ago, on July 28, 2002, when he was struck by a car while he was playing, and he died before they could even get him into the ambulance. They tried their best to save him, but all efforts failed; and our son was pronounced dead not even 15 minutes later.
Had he survived, Josiah would now be seven, heading towards the age of eight, the same age that Amanda is now. (They were the same age, but they were born eight months apart, with Amanda being born first. So that made her the older one.) Just thought I would straighten things out here...
Josiah was a child born with special needs, in the fact that he was hearing-impaired. He was born this way, and he lived in his silent world as best as he could; he was a very happy, adventurous little boy with freckles adorning his sweet little pale face, shock of bright carrot-orange hair that looked as if it were on fire in the bright sunshine, big, grey eyes, and chunky build. He was a very cute little boy, and even though he used sign language to communicate, he still loved life, and each little thing that he saw or learned would bring such excitement and joy to his little self.
Yet, on that fateful day, he was playing in the road, just as he always did (cars hardly ever came in our neck of the woods; we lived in the country, on a farm), and a car happened to be speeding along, and Josiah, being deaf, never even heard the roar of the engine of the approaching car, or the bleating of the warning horn, or the tires squealing as the car tried to stop from hitting Josiah; but it was too late, and by the time Josiah looked up, the car was on top of him; and soon he lay, broken and bleeding, in the middle of the road. A teenaged girl visiting her grandparent's place happened to see the accident happen, and it was she who came to our house and told us about the accident. When I heard her description of the child who had been injured (slim, small-built little boy with fire-engine red hair, freckles about his nose and cheeks, and wearing blue coveralls and a white teeshirt underneath, as well as ScoobyDoo tennies and red socks); I tell you, the world as we once knew it came crashing down; and we immediately picked up the phone, dialed 9-1-1, and screamed for medical help, as our little boy had just been seriously injured when he was struck by a car.
When we saw our little guy lying in the road, limp and not moving, I tell you, I thought I was going to faint; but Garrett (he's my husband) told me to hang on and pray for our boy; but our prayers proved to be futile, for he was already too far gone when he had been injured, and despite the rescue efforts by the paramedics, they couldn't save the life of our little boy. Josiah Micheal Trager was dead, and there was nothing, not even a Miracle from God, that could bring him back until the time came when Jesus would come back to Earth and take His Children Home with Him to Heaven. Now little Josiah was with Jesus, and he was now an angel, even despite our desperate pleadings and prayers.
He died before they loaded him up into the ambulance.
I don't remember much after that, but for a very long time I couldn't stop crying, and I couldn't go into Josiah's room, as the sight of his toys, clothes, his little trundle bed, and his trophies (for his tee-ball games) would cause me to start bawling again; and I was angry at God for a very long time after that. For a while, I even stopped praying and stopped going to church every week; and I became depressed and bitter. But then I realized that this happened for a reason, and as strange as it sounds, sometimes it takes unbelievable tragedy or heartbreak to bring people back to God, which was what happened in our case. Garrett and I had been having financial and marital troubles, and there was talk of divorce; but then God started working in our lives; and now, even though we still miss our Angel Josiah terribly and will never completely stop missing him or get over his untimely death, we know now that he is with Jesus, up in Heaven, and he is probably having the time of his little life, especially now that he can now hear and talk and that Jesus has healed him and now is a completely different little boy.
We will never forget you, Little Guy; we will always love you, and we will always remember!
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
In loving memory of Josiah Luke Edward Trager, aged 5, born on July 25, 1997 and died on July 28, 2002. He now lies safe in the Loving, Everlasting Arms of Jesus, and he now hears for the first time in his all too brief life. He was ours for only a short time, but he left a powerful impact on all our lives; and we will never forget him. He was truly a Miraculous Gift from God, and he taught us much about life, even living in a world of silence.
(This is written on his gravestone at the cemetary where he is buried.)
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Reviewed by Simon Thurlow
5/23/2004
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