I don't know if anyone reads this. I write for me. I just have to get this all out of me because it eats at me like a cancer.
I found out more details about how my son died. It was worse than I thought. How can it be worse? He's dead no matter how he died. Knowing he laid on the sidewalk dying, while his brother was questioned on the curb, hearing the gasps for breath, watching the police shine a flashlight in his face, while NO ONE, not one person did anything to try to preserve my son's life, is like a knife.....not a sharp knife, but a dull knife, being stabbed into my chest and slowly pulled upward.
My mind says I should be healing, my heart says it's only just begun. I don't know if anyone can relate to this sudden realization that your child is gone. Dead. It happens daily and it happens often. It just doesn't happen to MY CHILD.
I don't know what happened. I think that I finally started hearing things, because for awhile people were talking and I heard a noise, I just couldn't decipher it. Now I can...and I want to go back...to the days I couldn't decipher it.