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. 

May 19, 2018

Graduation brings excitement, possibility and hope.
Graduation brings fear, apprehension and doubt.
For me it is served up, a mix of nostalgia with a splash of tears.
My mind has fuzzy recollection of the month following but I remember many parts of Graduation day. The week had started with promotions for all of you, 6th, 8th and 12th. 
The final first day of school photo is where you would take your last breath. 
Making sure the shirt was the “right” colored one from the dry cleaner.
Thirty-four days later we would visit the cleaner once again to pick up our funeral attire.
Helping you put your cap and gown on, it was windy and we used Bobby pins to keep it in place. 
The next time I would touch that long hair I had bugged you to cut, would be the day we said our final goodbye, receiving a lock of it to keep. 
Seeing you walk across that stage I was as proud as the day you graduated kindergarten. 
The next stage I would stand upon would be joined by your spiritual presence as we recounted memories of your life to friends and family.
Pictures of best friends and familyare the most precious treasures we now possess. 
Ironic how the importance of material things changes when the materialized person is no longer here.
So cheers to the Graduates from 2018 and beyond.
I celebrate your accomplishments while in private I remember my last moments with my son.

❤️Mom

“What makes a Mother?”

Silly question, but I ask not in jest.
Is it the labor, the birthing a child?
No, you may answer, “for many have had to step in or chose to raise a child without being their biological parent.”
Is it in the sacrifice?  
Are those that passed during childbirth or in the place of a child able to assume the title?
No, you may add, “it is a hero that may step in and assume suffering in place of the child.”
Is it the amount of love, time, patience and nurturing?
Again no, “those traits can be provided by many caregivers”

So is it many characteristics, in addition to physical presence of a child that make a Mother? 

Then I will ask, “If a child dies what does that make a Mother?”
When a parent dies you become an orphan,
When a spouse dies you become a widow or widower.

The key to being a Mother is to have possession of a living child.
If our child dies we are still referred to as a Mother.
The English language has no other term for childless parents, perhaps because it is too painful to imagine.

So today I am a Mother and I am also a Vilomah
One who has lost a child; representing disruption in the natural order of life. 

Children should outlive their parents and I pray my daughters do; until then I will continue to simultaneously be both Mother and Vilomah. ❤️

I read an article today about grief, 

”Meaning is what we make happen after loss” ~ DK

David Kessler is a grieving man, his meaning is found in helping others navigate their loss.
Since you have passed I often wonder where my meaning will be, how it evolves and at times is it all too much?

Do the girls feel slighted by the attention given to you, when you are no longer present to acknowledge it?
Would the memorials be the same if your death was due to an overdose, an accident, disease or homicide?
I’ve even been accused of paying more attention to you after death then when you were alive ( yeah people are mean). 

At the end of the day it doesn’t matter what people think about my grief. The only thing I can own is my journey. Just as every person affected by death has their own journey, a voyage to find meaning in sometimes seemingly senseless loss. How they choose to navigate that journey is as individualized as DNA.

No right or wrong, no tribute too big or small. 
I will never answer how my grief may be different because these are the circumstances of loss that I have been given. I wasn’t afforded a choice.

So today I made a deposit on a physical memorial,
perhaps it will be a place others can find purpose in their search for meaning in the face of loss.
In the meantime, welcome to a place where memories can be shared whether it is happy, sad, angry or a place to reflect. 
Instagram is a photo collection, this space allows people we have influenced even after you have left to continue to share memories and actions inspired by Number 5. 


In continued memory my son.

❤️ Mom