When You Think You Can't Go On...

I think I can finally see some beauty in the aftermath of my son’s death. One thing has stood out to me this week; the relationships that have formed because of him. I know I have mentioned this in previous blog posts, but it is truly beautiful to see connections that have come from this tragedy: friends in Central Oregon now connected with friends in the valley, cousins connected with friends, both brothers being cared for and loved by his friends, and I now have more kids that call me “mom”. It reaches far beyond and deeper than this.

I have a new friend that I’ve never even met. I live on the west coast and she lives on the east coast. She shares her daughter, son-in-law (one of BJ’s dearest friends), and grandchildren with me. I only know her through her family, through Facebook, and through my son. I find her words encouraging and her friendship unconditional. Although she doesn’t know firsthand the loss of a child, she is compassionate to what it must feel like. She lifts me up with her thoughtful messages. Denise Satterfield is my sister from the Heavenly Mister and a gift from my son.

My son was born with a hole in his heart and he died leaving one in mine. A hole that was once filled with anguish and heartache, is now being filled with renewed hope and new relationships. Before he left he brought me another daughter to love. I only met “Chicka” twice before he died, but our friendship has flourished through our loss. She lost her mother nearly four years ago and then BJ, only a few months into their newfound love. Because of him, I have another child to love and she has another mother watching out for her; neither relationship replacing the original. You can’t replace a child and you can’t replace a parent, but you can have enough love to build a new bond and that is how I think of my friendship with Teri. We will never know how their relationship would have turned out, but I am grateful he left us to be a gift to each other.

I have spent much time reflecting this week. Today is Rich’s 4^th Birthday in Heaven! Although we miss him terribly, I am grateful “his boy” is working his way through the tragedies that were placed on him four years ago. I know Rich watches proudly from Heaven.  When Dillon knew what was going to happen and he knew BJ was in town, he asked if he could come over and of course, he was there for us. As Dillon was playing outside in the evening, he looked across the patio to see his dad sitting at the end of the patio table smiling at him. Just as Dillon was ready to run to him, one of the kids ran out of the house door and broke the sight line. Dillon realized his dad was not actually there. A little while later, we received the call letting us know his dad had passed on. I explained to Dillon, his dad stopped in to see him on his way to Heaven. He needed to see that Dillon would be ok and Dillon needed to see his dad's smile one last time. Dillon embraced that his dad loved him so much he saw him last.

From that moment forward, BJ and Bryan played a monumental role in Dillon’s life. Bryan was there for the everyday love and guidance and BJ seemed to take special time for Dillon whenever he could. In Dillon’s mind, BJ was fulfilling the role his dad left. He always made time for him, helped him, played with him, and made sure he knew he was always there for him. When BJ died, Dillon was devastated. Not just in losing his big brother, but he said, “BJ was kind of like a dad to me too, mom and he was always there for me after my dad died.” Those words still choke me up and bring tears to my eyes. Our loss has been devastating, but from devastation we have found perseverance and new hope. Dillon has never looked for a “father replacement” but he is aware that he does not have many men role models that he feels readily connected to. Let’s face it, life is busy, and people are sometimes too busy to take someone else’s child “under their wing”. Sorry, but that is a fact! He feels that Bryan is the “main man” in his life; to learn from, to ask things, and to look up to. He sees him most and Bryan is always willing to help him, talk to him, or just hang out with him. We both know we have many that pray for us and many that are “here” for us and we don’t take that for granted. We are blessed. Four years later; we are still grieving, but we are persevering.

Grayland, WA. | Photography by Dillon McCarthy.