My heart is shattered. I'm still trying to process what unfolded in our lives one week ago on September 10, 2019, when we learned my husband's son, unexpectedly, passed away at the young age of 34. A parent's worst nightmare. As a friend told me, “you may not have given birth to him, but you shared your heart with him” and that I did. He wasn’t a step son …. he was my son by way of his father. He was an absolutely amazing young man with such a bright future. I believe it is safe to say we are still in a state of shock, disbelief …..
I’ve had the pleasure of being involved in my son’s life for roughly 13 of his 34 young years. From the first time I met him, he was so respectful and talked to me with genuine interest in topics discussed. He welcomed me into his home, he made sure I had growlers of my favorite obscure beer and my favorite pizza ready when we showed up. I knew I could lean on him when I needed him. He shared his successes with me, his frustrations with me. I’ve always been proud to refer to him as our son. His dad was prouder than a peacock at all he accomplished in his short life. I even told him that one time. I remember that conversation so well. Right now, I could kick myself for having my text messages set to delete after 30 days, because some of our chats would have been fantastic to look back over the last week. Live and learn, I guess.
Sudden and unexpected deaths rock our lives. I remember when my Grandmother fell, and later passed from her injuries how my world was rocked. My faith was tested (and I failed that test miserably). I remember how deeply hurt I was. I didn’t think I’d ever experience a pain like that again. I was wrong. This is worse. This is a million times worse. News of this magnitude is something no parent should ever have to hear.
I tend to express my feelings far better in writing than I can verbally, which is why I felt like heading to my blog (not that I keep it very updated anymore, which is sad in my mind because I truly do love to write my feelings out). I knew I could convey how I am feeling better in the written word than the spoken one.
Billy was every bit a dynamic person. He was charismatic and charming. He had the unique ability to connect with anyone and everyone … every single person he came in contact with, from the young to the old. He was respected and admired by many. Billy devoted his life to making a difference in the world. He wanted to be someone and do something that would change the world around him or people he encountered in his life. He was Billy. He was larger than life. Our loss is truly heaven’s gain and I just have to keep believing that God needed him for something big up there.
The last time I spoke with Billy, I reminded him of just how proud his dad was of him …. and that I was too. That is a fact that will never change. I will forever be proud to call him my son and I will carry him in my heart until the day it stops beating and I KNOW I will forever feel the pain of having a shattered heart.
I’m struggling with this terribly. I’m trying to be strong for my husband. I’m trying to be the rock I know he needs. I was reminded by my most amazing sister-friend to feel what I am feeling because shoving the feelings down just makes it come up later and with much more force. She is so right. I have been trying hard to keep my own hurt at bay, as if my feelings aren’t valid or permitted. I know it sounds funny, but it’s honest. My daughter sent me a screenshot of a page in a book she is, or was, reading. It resonated with me LOUDLY. I don’t know the book, so I can’t give proper credit, but it said: “Jesus is present in our pain and suffering …… If we experience grief at the loss of a loved one, we should not simply tough it out or forcibly turn our attention to more pleasant things; rather we should let Jesus bear the loss with us. After all, Jesus lost your loved one, too.” I share my heartache on my drive to work each morning. As I watch the sun coming up on my drive, painting the sky the colors of the morning, I tend to vocalize my feelings, I allow the tears to flow freely out of my eyes and down my cheeks, I give myself the permission to cry.
I am trying to keep believing that God must have needed Billy for something HUGE up there that He had to take him so early, in the prime of his life. That really isn’t a comfort to me, to be honest. On some scale it scares me at what’s to come from this, what his new purpose is, what he was soooooo needed for up there. But rather than live with anxious anticipation, I have to live in the now.
I know one thing for certain through this whole nightmare. We WILL get through this together. My husband says that ‘we are one’ and I know we are stronger together. So for now, we cling to each other, and together we will manage to get through each day, one at a time. For better, or for worse …. and it does NOT get much worse than this right now.
“There's no tragedy in life like the death of a child. Things never get back to the way they were.” ~ Dwight D. Eisenhower
I
miss you, kid.
William Arthur DeHart, III
3/4/1985 ~ 09/10/2019
