March 2020

My boss’s 32 year old son died last weekend in a car accident. That was the news I was hit with as I walked into work on Monday morning. Shock and hysteria and tears and hugs with a fellow co-worker. Not only because Sam had died, but because both of us have sons that we love more than life itself. We know the amount of energy, love, understanding, and sheer fear, worry and excitement that we have poured out for our boys.

I wouldn’t say it’s different between mothers and sons than it is between mothers and daughters, but it is. The bond with your daughter is that you know all the shit. You know every feeling, every signal because we were girls too. We have a high expectation for that daughter to exceed where we are, but for our boys, we’ve never been a boy. And here is one that can’t go anywhere. He’s ours. Our best boyfriend. And we can do for him what we’ve wanted to do for every man we’ve ever loved, we want to fix everything for him. He can do no wrong. If he has an issue, we’ve got a solution.

The only real emotion I could even fathom if I lost my son is depleted. Empty. Void of everything. An instant hole that could never be filled. Ever. Something so precious – stolen – that you will never see or feel having it around for one second more. Sam wasn’t married and didn’t have any children, but while some people say “well thank goodness for that”, I say it doesn’t matter because he was absolutely everything to his mother. And to his father.

So what do you do in the days, weeks, months, years following the death of a child? Nothing will ever be the same. One amazing turn of events changes your entire life. Where does a mother look to find some sort of peace or even a reason to go on? The answer is to look to the life that was lived. It doesn’t matter the wins, the losses; what matters is the kind of person he was and how he made people feel. Sam was a great person and made the people around him feel special. That is what people will remember; how he made them feel. His parents need to know. They made the person he was through their unconditional love and support; so while he is physically gone, he remains a beacon for those that loved him – forever. I hope they can take solace in that.

I imagine that the day he was born was the best of their lives. His father told me that the day they lost him was the worst day of their lives. It tracks and reminds me of the quote from Elizabeth Stone:

“Making the decision to have a child – it is momentous. It is to decide forever to have your heart go walking around outside your body. ”

This post is written with great sadness, but in tribute to Sam. God Speed young man. And thank you for the light you brought to the world of people all around you. And to my own son, Ian, I love you more than words can say and always will. Thank you for being an amazing person.

LLM