Saturday, November 6, 2010

Day 6- Something You Hope You Never Have to Do

When you become a parent, you are in for a rude awakening. When you first meet your child, you don't realize how deeply you fall in love with them, but you do. It's inevitable. A baby instantly has someone that will protect them, guide them, even die for them. You also fear that you will have to experience some really bad things as they grow up, like broken bones or realizing that your child was kidnapped.

One thing that scares me the most about being a parent is the possibility that I may have to bury my child.

My mom's side of the family has experienced this, unfortunately. In October of 1967, my Aunt Brenda was killed in a car accident. Brenda and a male friend were driving around town (she was in the passenger front seat) when another vehicle t-boned them. My aunt was ejected out of the car and died on impact. The man driving the other vehicle had no time to react before the accident.  My Mom was 5 years old at the time and my Grandma was pregnant with my Aunt Tammy. From what I understand, it was probably the hardest thing my Grandparents ever had to go through.

I look at my son and fear that something will happen to him that will lead me to having to pick out a coffin. Could he be diagnosed with a rare form of leukemia? Will he slip on the ice and hit his head so hard that he will never wake up from a coma? Will there be a car that doesn't see him crossing the street until it's too late (this one could have happened... he has darted out in a parking lot a time or two, giving me a mini heart attack). It scares me that something unexpected could happen that would take him away from me forever.

You aren't supposed to bury your children, and I hope that I never have to do with with my son, or any other child that I might have in the future. I don't think I would handle it very well. I could see myself spending weeks in my bedroom, avoiding everybody and not going to work. I wouldn't be able to stare into his bedroom without bursting into tears. Things wouldn't be the same for me anymore.

I want my son to outlive me. I want him to grow old and happy with his life. He may only be six years old, but he's got a long life to live as far as I'm concerned.


  1. This is so weird..but I just posted about an extremely similar topic on my blog. And I do hope you NEVER have to go through that!!

  2. This scares me in so many ways. I have envisioned like you have many of those things. It would be terrible. My husband's Grandma lost her son to a drunk driver. He was only 18-19 at the time. My Grandmother has buried a son (and honestly if my dad and uncle don't quit the booze she'll bury more. sad but true). He was 50 and died of a massive heart attack. I can't imagine though that it was any easier even though he was 50. Your babies are always your babies. My Uncle Mike's death was VERY hard on me. I can't imagine what it was like for my Grandmother.

    I wish that no one ever had to go through such pain.