I can say with complete certainty that there are things that I blocked out from ‘that day’. I don’t like to talk about it and a lot of the details have become fuzzy at this point. It’s like watching a movie, like it happened to someone else, because how could that have ever happened to Benny and me?
What I do remember about the hospital is pretty awful, painful and graphic. I don’t want to talk about that. I want to talk about what I remember that was good. It’s weird to say the word good in the same sentence where I talk about my son dying, but bear with me please.
There was this moment, when I felt that I would shatter, when I was starting to feel something and completely freaked out. Until then I was numb, I went someplace, I was shaking and not making much sense. I didn’t even cry at first because it was all still unbelievable to me. But then I fell apart. I asked Parker how we were supposed to go on, breathe, live.
‘I lost my son too. You will get through this’. Through my hysterics I looked across the room to the nurse that was stroking Benny’s hair who had spoken. It was such a simple statement, but the life raft I needed in that moment. Here was my proof that this was survivable. These words meant everything to me. There were probably 20+ people around us, doctors and nurses. She was the first one to talk to us and she was the one that made the difference. Thank you Donna, 18 months later, YOU are what stands out in my mind from that day and for that I’m forever thankful.