Deidre Brownwood is trying to cope with the passing of her twelve-year-old son, who died after being struck by a tree during a tornado a few weeks back.
I sit here in the kitchen, awaiting the arrival of my kids from school. As in the past few weeks, I keep waiting for all my children: Sam, Forrest, Raylee, and Dominic, expecting to see all four burst through the front door. However, this is not to be: only three will arrive--Sam, Forrest, and Raylee. The fourth child, twelve-year-old Dominic, will not be with them.
He is dead. He died nearly three weeks ago on February 5, 2008. He died when a tree fell on him while he was outside, putting his bike up as a storm was blowing in from the southwest. He didn't care if it was storming outside: he wanted to put his bike away; he didn't want it to get blown away by the strong winds.
As you can imagine, I am grief-stricken. I don't know when I've cried so much. I don't know when we all have cried so much. This has been a horrible three weeks in our family; we're all still in a state of disbelief, shock; we can't believe that one of our children has died.
I can't go into Dominic's bedroom without a new torrent of tears. His room is as he left it: messy, as boys' rooms usually are. Bed unmade. Empty soda cans sitting on his dresser and by his computer.
Clothes strewn on the chairs and on the floor. Dirty clothes hamper overflowing with clothes that need to be washed/ironed.
A dart sticking out on a poster of a baseball player's nose--he threw the dart last year after a bad day at Little League; he never bothered to take it down.
I can't go in there just yet. It's too painful; his death too fresh, too real.
Sometimes we think we hear his voice, see him walking by in the hallway or kitchen--only to look up, realize that he's no longer here. His body now lies six feet underground in a cemetary not far from where we live.
He's dead. Nothing can change that. He is never coming back, no matter how hard we wish for him to do so. He's now in Heaven with his Lord and Saviour, Jesus Christ, where I am sure he is much happier.
No matter how hard I try, I can't accept the fact that Dominic's dead. This is the worst thing that can ever happen to a parent: a parent is supposed to die before their child; their child isn't supposed to die before the parent!
I have been wrestling with why God would allow this horrible tragedy to happen. I am trying to understand His ways, why He called my boy home to Heaven. I am having a very hard time with it, and lately, since the accident, since the funeral, I haven't felt like praying--let alone, going to church. Just to step into church, see all those people looking at me, is enough to dissolve me into tears.
They may say they understand, but they have no idea what I am going through! I want my boy back! I don't want my son to be dead!! If there is anything I want right now, it's for Dominic to return to life, come back to us, his family! We miss him so much!!
I am going to go now; crying too hard. Can't see to write anymore.
I don't think I will ever be happy again! My baby boy is dead!!!! All because of a tornado! Because of that horrible tornado, my boy is dead!!
Karen, having lost a son when he was nineteen, I know first hand that it's a heartache that never truly goes away, although time and faith have a way of helping.
When someone approaches you to tell that one of your children is dead..the world stoppes there, life get frozen and your soul leaves your body that, suddenly, feels the cold wave of utterly despair.
Awwww, this one hurts - sadness in real pain, the pain of a mother grieving the loss of her child - no child should have to die - powerfully penned, Karen, well done.
The rawness in this bleeds my heart and soul, Karen. The pain is so palpable and starkly stated. A true journal entry, where the facts are confronted as FACTS and stated so baldly, whether they are able to believed or no. The fact that the words repeated "is dead, dead, is : my boy is dead. This absolutely guts me. You certainly know how to portray grief in its most heightened aggressive state. Both numbness and nerve-destroying pain portrayed in your skilful portrayal. Bless you, xx
Suspenseful and close to home, Rain of Deception 2 will leave you in Tears. Much like Part 1, this will shocking sequel will keep you on the edge of your fingertips.
A poignant story about letting go of a narcissist in your life. Have you ever been attacked FULL force by a narcissist? It's the closest thing to being stabbed over and over in the back.
