In May 0f 2003 my son Jonathan died suddenly of a heart attack. I haven't been the same since. He has a brother and I am proud of the way he is holding up. He was a very good skiier, swimmer, skateboarding, etc. - good looking kid "blondie" - I had always thought that when he was finished playing around and partying, etc. he would go on to university. He was loved dearly by all. The night before his death he had gone out - doing the usual - skate boarding, playing XBox with his friends, etc. He got in late so I wasn't surprised when he slept late. He got up and I thought he looked a little pale. I asked him if he would like an egg salad sandwich and he didn't reply. It seemed to me that he was just looking out the window at the river. It was spring time so there were a lot of Canada geese out there with their little ducklings. So I put some eggs on to boil and went to make my bed. I came right back out and he was lying on the living room floor unconscious. I screamed for a neighbour to call 911 and tried to revive him to no avail. The paramedics and police got there and they wouldn't let me near him. They couldn't get his heart going for long enough to transport him to the ambulance. They would not let me into the ambulance with him, so I got a ride to the hospital in a fire truck. In emergency there must have been about seven doctors working on him and they still wouldn't let me see him. But I got in there anyway and I could tell by the atmosphere that things were not good. After a long while waiting in this little room they sent a social worker in to see me. So I knew things were really not good. Then the surgeon came in to tell me that if he did revive he would likely be seriously brain injured. I think I was in shock. Then they finally had him in intensive care in the cardiology unit. I was told that he was under a very strong sedative and would not wake up until morning at the earliest. So I went home. In the middle of the night some police came to my house to take me to the hospital because he had died. I wish I had never left that hospital. I stood there in the funeral home at the viewing for hours just holding his hand. I did not want to say good bye. I put a little crystal stone in his coffin with him. He was buried wearing his favourite baseball cap, hoodie, and blue jeans. His friends gave him doobies and bic lighters mostly. His favourite music was played at the funeral. Most people got up to tell of their fondest memories with Jon. I couldn't speak. I think this is the first time I really have. I miss him - it is very painful. Most people don't (thankfully) know how it feels to loose a child. You can't unless you have been there before too. So I hope that you will e-mail me with your thoughts. Janet
