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Remembering My First Born


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I feel like I'm dealing with a parents worst nightmare. I got a call on December 22, 2002 that my son, Adrian was in the hospital and I needed to come home immediately. At the time my daughter, Katie, who is 10, and I were out of town attending a church function.

During the long 1 hour ride back home, I watched Katie as she sat silently in the back looking into space. The look on her face was as silent and distance as the tears that ran down her cheeks. When we arrived at the hospital it was then that what I feared the most was confirmed.

My first born son, blessed of the Lord, had been murdered. The first 9-10 months I lived in a world of total disbelief and unacceptance. It's not that much better now after 13 months have passed. As I look on the 2004 calander, I can't hardly believe that his 20th birthday will be within the next 3 months.

I look at my other son Chris with amazement, sadness & proudness. He was there with him as he laid in his arms and bleed to death at the hands of another. It was that night that my world changed never to be the same again. I truly thank God for all of His many blessings. However, I must admit that it took me a couple of weeks to realize that I had not said those words to Him.

I like all of you could go on and on. I could share with you and perhaps I will from time to time how I constantly fight off the mind of depression and madness. It has been an uphill battle for me but I have been richly blessed by friends and loved ones. However, finding this network and communicating with people who live with these emotions, pains & hurts as I do each day helps. A group of people who know what it's like when you have to write letters to the Board of Parole and Pardons. A letter begging that a murder not be allowed a chance to live outside of the prison walls after surving 14 years of a life sentence on what is called, good behavior".

I miss my son sometimes I find myself missing both sons.

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Tamra,

I am so very sorry to hear of the death of your precious son. You spoke of 13 months like you might be thinking that you "should" be over it by now. Tamra, I haven't lost a child myself, but rather my sweet husband to an unexpected heart attack 8½ years ago. The one thing I know about this grief journey, with absolute certainty is, you will never be over it. You will come to some sort of peace and acceptance with your loss, and a sense of understanding that they are gone from your sight, but they remain in your heart and mind forever. They are always a part of us. I found for myself, the more that I spoke Bob's name, told and retold my story of our life and love, the more I remembered him. The more firmly embedded he became in my heart.

Keep reaching out, telling your story. Don't beat yourself up because you think you should be further along in this process than you are. Accept that some days are good, but others are intolerable. That it's ok to fall apart, to cry for no reason, to laugh, or even to forget to feel sad. It's all ok, it's all part of our healing. There are many of us out here, listening to you speak your childs name, and holding you in our thoughts and prayers that you and your family are safe.

Sending you warm hugs to wrap yourself in when the pain becomes too big to bear on your own.

Love and Blessings,

Lynda (bobsgal)

my other half

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