Words fail me
Last night I learned that my high school boyfriend had been killed in a motorbike accident. Shock, sadness, grief, confusion, anger, guilt...all those feelings washed over me. I couldn't wrap my mind around the words that had just come out of my mother's mouth. He was the only person in the accident, which occurred a little over a week ago. There was no apparent reason as to why he wrecked at 1 a.m. in the field behind his body shop. People believe that a deer ran out in front him and he was trying to dodge the deer. No one will ever know for sure.
Hearing this news brought back me back to high school, senior year, prom, soccer games, running cross country and the list goes on. Those were all experiences I had right along side of my HS boyfriend. For a long time he was my best friend, we did a lot together and taught each other to appreciate life in new ways. I hung up the phone with my mother and immediately felt guilty because I am married now, expecting a child with the man I love, and yet I am mourning the loss of a person that I used to love. It was so confusing. Thankfully, Jim understood my pain and assured me that these feelings make sense. My mother knew that the accident had happened last week, and was waiting to tell me about it after we heard the heartbeat and knew that this baby was o.k. She understood how much stress I was under and didn't want to add to my worry. She had planned to tell me Tuesday night about his accident, but after staying in a coma for a week, he died. There was no way she could have known that was going to happen, but she felt horrible for not telling me about everything sooner. His funeral was this past Tuesday. That was the day that I heard my first child's heartbeat. How ironic.
Not being present at his funeral is something that will eat away at me for the rest of my life. Perhaps I am being selfish, but I will have no closure. All of this is so sudden and overwhelming. Not to mention that his death is the second death out of my group of friends from high school. The beginning of my sophomore year another friend from our high school circle died suddenly, which shocked everyone. Losing two peers before the age of 30 is not something I imagined I would experience.
Thinking about this HS boyfriend's death is strange. It's not as if we were still close when he died, but at one point in my life we were very close. I am mourning that loss, and I really don't know how to put it into words. Since hearing about his death I have either been humming Ben Folds or listening to him on the computer. Does Ben Fold's sad and intricate music help to lessen my thoughts about this horrible situation? (hint: no) But, nonetheless it is somehow helping me gain the closure that I need. My mother's instinct was to protect me when she heard this information, she dreaded telling me what had happened, and struggled for a long time this week to come up with the right words to tell. Similarly, my first instinct was to protect this baby in my belly from all my stress and sadness that coursed through me upon hearing the news. I hate that this baby is feeling my pain, and I wish my body could create a force field around this child so only good, positive, comforting feelings went through to my baby. If I could take all the stress and sadness from my body, I would. It makes me apprehensive that this baby is cocooned inside a body that is a mess of nerves. Already I am trying to protect this child and it hasn't even left my body yet. I cannot imagine the feelings of protection that I will have once this child is born.
My heart breaks for his parents. They lost their youngest son in a freak accident. How horrifying for them that he lived through childhood, teen years, pre-adult years and then died as an adult, a time in life that it seems one would be able to relinquish worrying about a child. The grief and pain that his parents are feeling right now is beyond my comprehension. I can only pray that pain is something that Jim and I will never, ever know.
Hearing this news brought back me back to high school, senior year, prom, soccer games, running cross country and the list goes on. Those were all experiences I had right along side of my HS boyfriend. For a long time he was my best friend, we did a lot together and taught each other to appreciate life in new ways. I hung up the phone with my mother and immediately felt guilty because I am married now, expecting a child with the man I love, and yet I am mourning the loss of a person that I used to love. It was so confusing. Thankfully, Jim understood my pain and assured me that these feelings make sense. My mother knew that the accident had happened last week, and was waiting to tell me about it after we heard the heartbeat and knew that this baby was o.k. She understood how much stress I was under and didn't want to add to my worry. She had planned to tell me Tuesday night about his accident, but after staying in a coma for a week, he died. There was no way she could have known that was going to happen, but she felt horrible for not telling me about everything sooner. His funeral was this past Tuesday. That was the day that I heard my first child's heartbeat. How ironic.
Not being present at his funeral is something that will eat away at me for the rest of my life. Perhaps I am being selfish, but I will have no closure. All of this is so sudden and overwhelming. Not to mention that his death is the second death out of my group of friends from high school. The beginning of my sophomore year another friend from our high school circle died suddenly, which shocked everyone. Losing two peers before the age of 30 is not something I imagined I would experience.
Thinking about this HS boyfriend's death is strange. It's not as if we were still close when he died, but at one point in my life we were very close. I am mourning that loss, and I really don't know how to put it into words. Since hearing about his death I have either been humming Ben Folds or listening to him on the computer. Does Ben Fold's sad and intricate music help to lessen my thoughts about this horrible situation? (hint: no) But, nonetheless it is somehow helping me gain the closure that I need. My mother's instinct was to protect me when she heard this information, she dreaded telling me what had happened, and struggled for a long time this week to come up with the right words to tell. Similarly, my first instinct was to protect this baby in my belly from all my stress and sadness that coursed through me upon hearing the news. I hate that this baby is feeling my pain, and I wish my body could create a force field around this child so only good, positive, comforting feelings went through to my baby. If I could take all the stress and sadness from my body, I would. It makes me apprehensive that this baby is cocooned inside a body that is a mess of nerves. Already I am trying to protect this child and it hasn't even left my body yet. I cannot imagine the feelings of protection that I will have once this child is born.
My heart breaks for his parents. They lost their youngest son in a freak accident. How horrifying for them that he lived through childhood, teen years, pre-adult years and then died as an adult, a time in life that it seems one would be able to relinquish worrying about a child. The grief and pain that his parents are feeling right now is beyond my comprehension. I can only pray that pain is something that Jim and I will never, ever know.
posted by Al at 10:32 AM
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