Not wanting to be selfish I thought about comparing my son’s death with Jill Leovy’ blog all weekend, and was elated to see a post on Ken Reich’s blog this morning, but his slant is the disproportion of minority deaths compared to Caucasian deaths.
My take on all the deaths is a bit different, I’m looking at the families left behind, and what they are feeling after losing a loved one, which I’m certain have parallels with the death of my son Bryan. Are you aware there have been 537 homicides in Los Angeles County this year, how many people have been affected, 20,000, 30,000, or more?
How about the war in Iraq, or Afghanistan, how many people have lost loved ones as we have? We have all witnessed grieving Iraq parents carrying their dead children as tears streamed down their faces, do these people care less about their loved ones than us, I think not. Death is all around us; we just feel the grime reaper will not come knocking at our doors any time soon.
I have heard from many parents that have lost children, and the loss stays with you the remainder of your years, according to their letters. This Wednesday my daughter Lauren will celebrate her twenty-second birthday, but Bryan will not be attending the party, so his entire family will feel the sorrow of his absence.
Allow me to express the feelings of losing a child, PURE HELL.
Fifteen days ago I sent a text message to all of my children, and it read, “Kids, I will be at the Venice Beach Bistro at 3:00 p.m.”, Bryan and Nathan came down for the food and music. Little did I know that this would be the last time I would see my son alive.
The reason I bring this up, I have continued my old habit of starting a text message to invite Bryan to places we would frequent, only to catch myself and stop cold, forgetting he’s no longer with us. Many parents go through the same thing, but maybe in different ways, forgetting their child isn’t here as I do.
In closing tonight, I will be answering all of your emails starting tomorrow, it has been too difficult reading and replying when my eyes are filled with tears.