Light in my footprints…

I share with you the raw truth of the night that forever changed our family. Our experience in loss began on October 18, 2014. This testimony poured into words on New Years Day 2015.  Please know that I humbly open my heart to you, for the reason of understanding the love of Christ, through the eyes of grief. I thank God for his unending mercy in life and for the gift of His son.  With my family’s blessing, I share with you our journey, praying in the end, that it may shine a light for others.

Walking in to see our first-born child still and silent is too painful for words.  Disbelief and shock overcame us.  The call you pray from your child’s birth that you never receive, came to us.  Connor and I had a close bond, as we were kindred spirits from the start.  Deep in my heart I knew right away he was gone, even before it was confirmed.  As long as I can remember, John called me his lawyer in all things Connor, which were many.  He was a joyful, curious, mischievous child.  The events that dreadful night haunts me from the time of the call, until the time we left him.  God was carrying us all throughout.

“Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves receive from God.  For just as we share abundantly in the sufferings of Christ, so also our comfort abounds through Christ.”  2 Corinthians 1:3-5  

Our oldest son was a freshman in college.  He received a full ride scholarship between academics and ROTC.  He loved all people and listened intently to their stories.  His four younger siblings adored him.

We were attending a trivia night fundraiser for our mission trip to Honduras, when the news of the accident came. I noticed a missed call from our son’s college town, late on a Saturday night.  The phone number ended in zero’s but had no ID.  I immediately felt panic as I ran outside to return the call.  I listened as the hospital emergency room nurse spoke.  She said our son had been hit by a car crossing the street at dusk and we needed to move quickly.  In shock, I asked…what do you mean non-responsive?

I tore toward the door of our church as the school Principal stood with it open.  Just inside, our Pastor was standing with his hand on the office door.  He saw my face and cries for help and quickly ushered me into his office. I pleaded for paper to write down the level one trauma center, where they were airlifting our non-responsive, nineteen-year-old son .  I’m not sure how long I was being held back by friends, from climbing into my van, to reach him.  I remember feeling as if I could easily run the four hour drive to reach him.  Instead, friends convinced me to hold tight as my sister was on her way to drive us.  As I saw her car pull in, my legs gave way.  John caught me and gathered me into her car.  I remember pleading with her to get us there fast, fast, fast.  My sister was solid as a rock.  If she ever wavered I did not see it.

My phone began ringing without me calling anyone to tell of this tragedy.  Social media had somehow grabbed this news before I even had time to digest or understand it.  Connor’s friends were calling asking if he was okay, and what could they do to help?  After several calls I realized it had been half an hour with no call from the hospital updating me on his condition.  I frantically dialed the trauma center where he was to be airlifted. More numbing news, there had been no patients brought in by helicopter.  Too much time had passed; he should have been there by now, what was going on?!  The nurse took my number with a promise to find him.

The next few calls will forever be etched in my mind and heart.  A nurse from another hospital called telling me my son was not going to the trauma center, but was at another hospital now.  “But why?” I asked.  She answered with, “how far are you from this hospital?”  I was not sure, but at least two hours or more.  “How was our son?  Is he okay?”  I begged her for answers.  The silence on the other end was deafening…I knew. She succumbed to my pleas and answered, “We did all we could. I’m sorry.”  The pain shot through me like knives in my entire body.  I couldn’t breathe.  How could this be?  I just spoke to him this afternoon.  He was working on a paper, telling me he was committing to ROTC, talking about the summer camp he worked at and said he would like a watch for Christmas.  There had to be some mistake!  Our son was full of life, laughing and sending me pictures only hours ago!

My phone continued to ring.  The coroner called from the county of the accident, the police called from his college town to inform me…but I already knew.  I began declining the calls from his friends as they persistently rang to hear news that he was going to pull through.

God’s gift of my senses came back, as I realized that if his friends already knew, how long would it be before his siblings began to see things on social media?  How much time did I have to assemble my family at home and tell them this dreaded news over the phone, as it would now have to be?  Realizing we would need support there, I began to call for help.

Our children’s Principal had been taking action from the time we got the call.  She immediately called our oldest daughter’s teacher and coach asking him to pick her up from the bonfire she was attending.  She then went to our house where our two youngest were already fast asleep.

My sister’s husband, was patiently waiting at their home for an update.  I called him first with our tragic news.  He arrived at our home with our niece and her friend immediately. I called our dear neighbors, both nurses, whose boys were staying the night at our home.  They were ready to help.

I called our Pastor to ask him to go to be with our children as I delivered this horrific loss to them.  To our surprise, he explained that he had followed us to the hospital.  I had no idea he was just behind us!  A neighboring Pastor, whose daughter was Connor’s good friend that had been watching our children that evening, came right over to be with our family. Thanks be to God for this heavenly support system!

No one should ever have to hear the words I spoke to my family that night, “There has been a terrible accident.  Connor is with Jesus now.”  The sounds of cries, through the phone, overcome with emotion that only God could contain.

Throughout this time, my brave sister, steady at the wheel, driving us to our son, without hesitation, moved forward in the darkness.  She drove another two hours as we continued phoning family. No one should be awakened by this horrific news of loss.  I’m not sure how we told everyone else; I can only remember what I said to our children.  We arrived at the hospital by 1:15am.  Two hours and fifteen minutes after Connor had passed.  I believe he was gone much longer than that, as I felt his loss much earlier.

We were taken into the emergency room and then into a smaller room where we met the coroner.  He was an older rough man with little empathy.  He asked if we were ready to see our son.  He expressed, “what a shame it was to lose a child and that this was the second one recently.”  We were in shock.

There is no way to prepare yourself for something like this.  No matter who you are, how brave, how much love or faith you have, you cannot be ready for your heart to be laid out like this.  It was Connor.  There was no mistake, our beautiful boy lie still.  I held his hand, his arm; I laid on his chest to hug him with no return.  John and I clung to one another.  There were tubes hanging from under the sheet that covered him.  As we sobbed I realized from the corner of my eye, my sister was there at his feet, alone.  I cried out as the nurse rescued her empty arms.

Within minutes I was told there was a priest there for us.   I was confused.  We did not know a priest…what were they talking about?  John gently reminded me of our Pastor following us.  As he entered the room, he immediately gave comforting words of Christ’s resurrection and the promise of Jesus that we all knew.  I must have cried out “how could this be?!” Our Pastor reminded us: “He gave his son to die for us, who knows this better than He?”

I now know that God never asks us to go through that which he has not himself known.  He goes before us to lead and follows behind to protect. He upholds us throughout.  He placed each person that evening in exactly the place we would need them, at the perfect time of our need.

We were told it was time to leave that room and our son.  I insisted we could not leave him there!  He needed to come home with us. Nothing was making sense.  As we walked away from him, I collapsed.  I could hear people talking.  I felt John holding my head off the floor as he encouraged me to open my eyes.

God has opened my eyes in many ways since our son’s death.  I prayed mightily the morning of Connor’s visitation.  I could not imagine how I would stand next to our silent son and greet people for hours.  My legs felt as if they could not hold me up.  I panicked and called our Pastor, thinking I would not make it through this.  He was in chapel at the high school speaking with many of our children’s friends.  He promised to call soon.

We frantically searched for what he should wear for his funeral.  I had not chosen clothes for our son in years.  What would he want?  His brand new fraternity sweatshirt was chosen.  He couldn’t wait to wear his fraternity letters.  John left me to take the clothes to the funeral director.

In complete distress, I went downstairs to Connor’s room and prayed.  I pleaded for strength that God use me in anyway he could, to shine his light, in our time of loss.  I knew how Connor’s friends and my own family were devastated and angry at the thought that our son, their grandson, brother and friend was gone from this earth.  I prayed relentlessly for God to allow a path to witness what His mercy and grace could do to a heart.  Time stood still.

I knew it was time to wake our children.  As I climbed to the top of the stairs, I physically felt God lift my fears and trembling body into a peace that passed all understanding!  I was stunned…and thankful!  He gave me breath when I had none!  In my time of need, an immediate peace!  I spoke out loud, “Oh dear Lord, thank you!”

Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you.  Matthew 7:7

The peace never left me that day or the next as I stood for hours next to our son.  I never needed a thing, not food, breaks or rest.  God carried me through as over 1200 people came to say goodbye!  What a blessing to know that in his short 19 years how many lives our son had touched in positive ways! He had lived life full of zest, love and adventure.  I realized what a bright shining star he had been, not only to me, but to hundreds!  

 I know that Connor would want forgiveness, peace, hope and everlasting love for our family.  We get that from knowing Jesus and understanding that God’s plan, no matter how difficult at times, is perfect.  We must be patient.  The definition of patience, is enduring without complaint.  It is not our place to understand or worry.  HIS son died to take away fear and give us the same peace that I experienced.

 I had known Christ my entire life.  I knew much of his word.  In all my years, I had only let go and let God, in dire times of need.  I knew he was there, yet I only trusted him in MY time.  NOW he has placed unending trust on my open heart, to humbly witness HIS love and peace by sharing the gospel with others.  We experience grief daily.  BUT…I also realize what HIS miraculous peace feels like.  Our family will forever share this journey through loss.  We are thankful that in the quiet crucible of our personal private sufferings he lifts us up through Grace alone!  

I pray for a light in our footprints as we journey through loss together.

Peace & Blessings,

MamaC

January 2015

For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life. John 3:16

Photo:  Our family after loss ~ Christmas 2014