I was a school nurse in 2001. I had left my position at St. Joe’s because I wanted a day schedule and more time with you. I honestly wanted to be a stay at home Mom but we couldn’t afford it at the time. I still remember that summer. 
I had you in daycare with a stay at home teacher whose son was about your age you absolutely hated it every second hated it. You would cry from the time I left until I came home. I had so much guilt that grandma stepped in until I returned to the hospital in November of 2001.

I was in the office that day in September, when a member from the front office came in and told me to turn on my television set. It was surreal to see buildings burning and people jumping out of the tower building to their death it was terrible and real.
I have never experienced so much tragedy before in my entire life. Little did I know, 17 years later would become the hardest day of my life.

I vowed from that day to never to forget September 11th; and when I mean never forget I mean that tremendous loss inspired me today to keep my memories of those passed alive each day in my everyday life.

Yesterday that started with the dedication of your  memory bench. Perhaps a way to inspire trends in the fight to end suicide. 
Until then, I will forever remember 911 and my time as an elementary school nurse. ❤️

Today as I was leaving a patient home I saw a young man in the driveway kneeling near the trunk of his car.

At first glance nothing odd, perhaps he was unpacking or searching for something.

As I made my way to my car I heard the cries, a deep sob caught in his throat.

“I just want peace, I want stability,” he screamed, likely thinking he was alone.

My heart caught in my throat as the hair on the back of my neck rose in 100 degree weather; much like the day my phone rang the officer telling me my son was dead.


A million thoughts ran through my mind in a course of those brief seconds.

Do I mind my own business?

Do I call the police?

Do I offer to help?


These are the choices we all have when faced with conflict. 

I talk about prevention but do I turn a blind eye to those hurting?

I speak about my son but in doing so do I ignore someone else’s?

So today I walked up to this 21 yr old
 “I don’t know you but I am willing to get you some help and if not I’m just here to listen.”

It may seem insignificant that I offered help.
For me this was monumental, every cell in my body shook with anguish for this boy, for my son. 
in speaking with him I was talking to Carson.
I don’t have the answers for this young man, I am left  with Carson’s story and how I wish this simple yaks could’ve been an option as he suffered, making a decision to end his life. 

No matter how many I save I cannot bring him back. 
So for today I serve as this boys surrogate, buffering for the time being his mother’s pain. Hoping he will choose to stay, he will spare his mother the agony of finding her child alone in a driveway just asking for peace.

This is Carson’s legacy and I share his story to those needing someone to just listen praying you too will wait, seek help and stay for one more day.