I lost my oldest son, Eric, in a motorcycle accident on April 10th, 2000. He was 28 years old. A woman ran in front of him and he never knew what hit him. He died of a "broken heart" literally. When he was thrown back after hitting her front bumper, the aorta in his heart was ripped out. I never was able to donate his organs to help other people. I was able to donate some brain tissue to help with Parkinson's disease. I know he would have wanted that since my grandfather died of this and some members of the family have be diagnose with it. I forgive the woman, because it was an accident. She wasn't drinking or using drugs. She just made a mistake, to where I think most people do try to make a light instead of waiting for the next one. People think because he was that age, that I shouldn't be so sad, since I had that much time with him. "You know, thathe wasn't a child" But he was my child.
I still had dreams of his marrying, and giving me grandchildren and in time, he would be telling me good-bye, instead of myself telling my son. He was so full of life, and as other people told me, he was a good looking man. He stood 6-4, weighed 230, black hair, brown eyes, skin as dark as an Indian. He was a loving son and to his three brothers and two sisters, he was, well, perfect. Far from the truth, even though he was mine, he was loved and cherished by everyone. He never met a stranger. I lost a son, friend, my grandchildren from him and, part of my future when he went to be with his heavenly Father.He took a part of my heart and soul and left a great void.
His brothers and sisters miss their brother, friend, and sometimes Dad. They miss the fishing trips, the vacations in the summer when he would load them up and take them to Florida. They miss him coming to the ball games or showing him their trophies or him holding their newborn babies. My youngest son will miss him at graduation this Friday. My faith has helped me through this, even though I never knew it was this strong until I had touse it. As long as I am alive, he will always been remembered. He is with me in themorning, all through the days, when I go to sleep at night and in my dreams. I see him in the face of his brothers and sisters. I hear his voice in the wind, see his smile in thesky and feel his love in my heart. We still have our memories and we still have him -even though we can't see or touch him. The world is a little sadder, because he has soared to heaven.