If you think we've moved on past what happened nearly a year and ten months ago, you're sadly mistaken.  Our twelve-year-old son, Dominick, was killed when a tree fell on him while he was putting his bicycle away. 

I saw it happen.  Nearly two years later, I am still plagued with nightmares.  I feel I am the one to blame for making him put the bicycle away, so the wind wouldn't blow it away.  I feel if I had just let him leave the bicycle alone, he would still be here today.

This is Deidre Brownwood, by the way.  I live in Nashville, Tennessee, with my family:  husband, Robert Blake, our kids Raylee (nearly sixteen), Forrest (nearly nine), and Sam (almost twelve).  If Dommy were still alive today, he would be about to turn fourteen.

Now that the Christmas season is upon us once again, we are feeling anything but merry.  Dommy loved this time of year:  he was the type of boy who would "do goodwill to man"--helping a homeless stranger by giving him a couple of dollars so he could get a cup of coffee, helping an old lady cross the street, a hug to a weary mother dealing with her screaming child, or offering to watch that child for an hour so the mother could do an errand.

Dominick was very well loved by the community; he was the type of kid who could bring a smile to a hurting person, the kid who should have made front page news for his compassionate spirit, his giving heart. 

In addition to being a goodwill ambassador, Dommy had a beautiful tenor singing voice:  during the Cantata two years ago, he sang "It Came Upon A Midnight Clear"; he had people crying in the aisles; it was so beautiful to listen to.  Now he sings tenor in Heaven's Choir, and the pain his mother still feels today is nearly unbearable.

The kids still ask about their brother, wonder if he is coming back.  They know he's not, but that has never stopped them before.  I wish I could tell them yes, but we all know the truth.  Our second oldest child is dead as dead can be; not even a miracle could bring him back.  We will be reunited in Heaven one day, but not until then; until then, we go on living, missing him.

Robert's health has suffered since losing Dommy.  He's since been diagnosed with Parkinson's disease, even though he's not even in his fifties yet.  His hands are starting to shake, and down the road, the tremors will only get worse until he's virtually helpless.  He's had to quit his job; he's been trying to get on disability for over a year now, and has been denied three times.  Not disabled enough.  We've since contacted a lawyer to help  us appeal the decision.  It's ludicrous!

The kids, meanwhile, still try to go about their daily lives; however, I see a sadness in their faces, especially now, as they reemember their brother. 

The other day, I cried when Forrest blurted out: "Christmas.  Who needs Christmas?  I hate Christmas, especially without Dominick!  I want Dominick back for Christmas, so we can be a happy family again!"

We all cried when Forrest said that.

Well, I've managed to make myself cry again; I can't see for all the tears blurring my vision.  I will write in here again; just keep us in your prayers!  It's not been easy for us!  Thank you!

~Deidre Brownwood.  :( *tears*