07/11/2013

   The time seemed to creep along that morning, while we fielded phone calls, made more calls to people we hadn't already notified, talked about what was happening to us, sat and stared vacantly across the room, received more visitors, etc. At one point, I asked our oldest son if he wanted to go up to the high school to be with his teammates on the baseball team. (It was a school holiday, and the team was supposed to meet for practice). He said yes, so my best friend (who had taken the day off from work to be with us, along with his wife) and I drove him up to the school. This was to be the first of many times I would pass through the intersection where our son was killed, (not counting the evening before when I didn't yet know for sure what had happened to our Curtis) although this time my friend was doing the driving.  I suddenly realized that this was the first time my son, Casey, had to pass through the spot where his brother was taken from him as well. None of us spoke, and we passed through the intersection and went on to the high school without comment. My friend said later that he felt badly that he didn't think to go another way to get to the school. I told him not to worry as I hadn't thought about it either. We were all operating on automatic pilot at that point, although there would be times in the future that I would go out of my way to avoid having to go through that intersection. When we got to the school (the same parking lot where I'd begun to panic the previous night), we found out that word of Curtis's death had already begun to spread. A couple of the coaches met us outside the locker room, expressing their heartfelt condolences. They also said that there would be no practice that day, but that the players were all inside the locker room if Casey felt like he wanted to be with them. Casey nodded (he still hadn't said hardly a word all morning), and went inside with one of the coaches.
The other coach stayed outside with us. I remember Casey was gone for quite awhile while we talked outside, but I can't recall what we talked about with the coach except to say that he was very supportive    of us and what we were going through. I do remember that he was one of the first people outside our regular circle of family, friends, and neighbors I felt connected to after Curtis's passing. I remember that as feeling very positive. I can't recall how long we were there or exactly how we got back to the house, but I know at some point we all went back home, because there was other business to get to-that appointment time at the mortuary was drawing closer.

07/10/2013

   Unfortunately, by this time in our lives, both my wife and I had experienced dealing with mortuaries many times over the years, first in supporting roles as we lost loved ones as we were growing up, and more recently when we had more direct responsibilities for the arrangements. We had both experienced the loss of friends, uncles, aunts, cousins, grandparents, brothers, parents-but nothing prepared us to lose our child. All those other deaths all rolled into one did not come close to having the devastating emotional impact of losing our son. We knew of a couple of mortuary facilities in our area and decided to call the one closest to us. We had to look up the number in the yellow pages. As I turned the pages, I still could not believe we were actually doing this. It would, in fact, be a long time before any of this would soak in as being real. For now, and through all of the next several days, it just seemed as if we were planning and hosting a huge event for our son-not unlike previous times in his life we had planned a celebration of one kind or another. When things were all over surely our son would be coming back home. Crazy thinking. I guess it's the brain's way of helping you deal with something that is too horrible to actually handle in reality. We scheduled an appointment for later that morning. What to do until then?

07/08/2013

   By this time of the morning, early as I recall, my wife's sister and her husband and my lifelong best friend (and Curtis's godfather) and his wife had arrived. I remember people telling me that I needed to eat something, but I remember thinking that I doubted I would ever again feel like eating or drinking anything. I didn't think I would ever care about anything else again. I knew I was still in shock, but already I could feel this horrendous empty pain in my stomach that I feared I would always have from now on. I knew that their were things that would need to be done, but I was finding it increasingly difficult to focus my mind on anything. I had not been raised to feel emotions, but what I was feeling could not be ignored. I think the fear, uncertainty and anxiety of the entire situation of the previous evening had kept my mind sharp and focused. Now that we were realizing the awful truth, my mind was turning to mush. There were so many questions. What had really happened? How exactly had our son died? Did he realize what was happening to him? Was he afraid? Did he call out for us? Had he been in a lot of pain? What was the condition of his body? When would we get to see him? These were all questions we probably should have asked the night before, but were just now bubbling to the surface. Some of the answers would come in the days ahead. For now, there were more practical matters to address. We needed to contact a mortuary.

07/05/2013

   When I awoke in the morning, I had no moment of delusional bliss about what had happened the previous night. Unfortunately, I remembered all too clearly the unthinkable truth-our beloved Curtis was dead. I wanted to never have to get out of bed again. I felt like if I didn't get up I would not have to  face all the things that had been put into motion by the accident. I felt an emptiness in my stomach and a sudden sense of despair and hopelessness unlike anything I'd ever felt before. I wasn't sure quite what to do, but then I thought about my wife and daughter. Were they still asleep? Was my wife awake and feeling anything like what I was feeling? My son was still asleep, so I decided I had to go find my wife. I needed to be with her. She was already awake as well, although my daughter was still asleep. We embraced. I honestly don't remember if we even said anything to each other. We knew there would be things-horrible things- to take care of that day. We made some more early morning calls. My school principal called expressing her condolences, asking to please let her know if there was anything they could do for us, to take as much time as I needed, and to keep them apprised of any services. There was that thought again. Services. We would need to begin making plans for our son's funeral services. Where to begin?

07/04/2013

   A different message for today. Happy Independence Day to all! This was one of Curtis's favorite holidays. Now it also happens to be one of his sister, Carly's, favorite holidays as well. It wasn't always that way for Curtis, however. When he was a baby, and even into his toddler years, he hated this day. He didn't like the bright flashes and loud noises of the fireworks. Instead of being fascinated by all of that, he would most often cry, scream and hide his face until we removed him from the situation. It wasn't until he got older that he began to really enjoy the holiday and all the fireworks. As I said, it even became his favorite holiday. I think as he got older and could set off his own fireworks, he lost his fear of them and felt more in control. He became our "pyromaniac". When I think back to those early days after Curtis's death, I think those were two factors that I had a hard time dealing with-fear and loss of control. I'll expand on these topics in future postings. For today, I encourage everyone to find your way to celebrate this special day and all it means for us as a country. Happy Independence Day to all our family and friends, both those who are still here with us and those who have gone home. I love you, Curtis.

07/03.2013

   My wife needed to make some contacts as well, so I quickly dialed the number for the automated substitute teacher system to secure a replacement for me for the following day. In truth, I suddenly had for the first time in my teaching career absolutely no concern whatsoever with what my students would do in class the next day. I didn't know if I would ever be concerned about such seemingly mundane matters again. By the time we finished notifying the first people we felt would want to know and whom we needed to notify, my mom and stepdad showed up at our door. All my life my mom had had a way of making it seem like everything would be all right, but this time she had no words. We embraced without speaking. There would be time later to relate the awful details of our evening. For now, we just held each other. It had been a long time since I felt like I really needed a hug from my mom. I had been raised in a family that was not prone to emotional displays, but this hug I actually felt like I needed to the depths of my soul. My wife embraced her as well, and it was then that they both began to cry. I felt my own tears welling up as well as I turned to greet my stepdad. He and my mom had only been married for a few years at this time, but we'd known each other for almost 20 years. I had come to rely on his advice and wisdom many times over the years. We stayed up a while longer going over what had taken place. In spite of our anguished state of mind, exhaustion took over. I wasn't sure exactly what to do, but somehow it was decided that we could not let our son and daughter sleep alone that night. My wife would sleep with our daughter in our room while I slept with our son in his room. That felt right. Somehow my mom and stepdad would sleep in Curtis's room (this was where they usually slept whenever they spent the night with us). I fell into a fitful, restless sleep, hoping that somehow when I awoke  in the morning I would discover that this had all been a horrible nightmare. Obviously, that would not be the case.

07/01/2013

   I picked up the phone and dialed the number. Even at this late hour I was hoping that maybe for some reason my mom and stepdad would not answer the phone, but, of course, they did. These were the only grandparents my kids had ever had the chance to really know. I knew what I was about to say would devastate them. I told my mom what had happened. She was silent for several seconds, then I heard her relaying the news to my stepdad. When she spoke again she said only that they were coming right out. (They lived about 20 miles away). I didn't even have to ask her to come. She didn't even ask if we wanted them to come (which we did). They were just coming. I felt a great sense of relief. They now knew what had happened and were on their way to be with us. The next call I had to make was to my teaching colleague at work. I knew I would not be going to school the next day, and I wanted him to know why so he could help the substitute teacher get through the day. He was a former police officer who had seen a lot of tragic things during his career, but the news caught him by surprise. He had known Curtis when our son was a student at my school. He said not to worry, that he would take care of everything, and was there anything else we needed him to do. I asked him just to let everyone else know what had happened, and I would be in touch when we knew about the arrangements. Arrangements? That was the first time I'd even thought about having to make arrangements for our son's services. How does one go about planning for your child's funeral? That's not how things are supposed to go. Parents don't plan services for their child. The child is supposed to-someday-plan services for the parents. Why was this happening?