Thursday, February 25, 2010

Unimagineable.

Evan Etoch's Memorial at Upjohn Park
June 1995 - February 2010


On Tuesday after school, my son's 14-year-old friend died in a freak dirtbike accident. He was out riding with friends, was very skilled, but went over the handlebars during a jump and was killed instantly.

I can't stop obsessing over this.

Where was his mom when she got the news? At home, I wonder? More than likely, since she is a stay-at-home mom. Where was his dad? Probably at the car dealership they own, working hard as always, with a big ol' smile on his face. Until the phone call.

Where was his 11-year-old sister? At a friend's? At home? Doing homework, or out riding her bike? Thinking it was just another ordinary day... like every other? Taking life for granted, the way we all do?

What did his family do when they got the news? Scream? Collapse to the ground? Drive 70mph to get to the scene? Vomit? Pass out?

How are his friends doing--the two boys he was riding with? My son told me they just cradled him in their laps, trying to revive him. Two teenage boys, there with their friend, completely helpless. Probably pleading with God to take them back just a few seconds in time and not let any of it happen. Are they somehow feeling responsible? Or guilty that they asked him to ride that day?

I keep replaying all of the possible scenarios over again and again in my head... and wondering about the minutes, hours, and days that have since passed. Are his parents, sister, and grandparents sleeping at night, I wonder? Eating? Can they even function? Or are they still in that surreal place, where nothing has truly sunken in yet. Where it's just a flurry of people coming in and out, hugs, tears, phone calls, flowers being sent, home-cooked meals being delivered. Activity like their home has never seen before.

And then what?

Everyone else will go back to the lives they knew, but theirs will be forever changed in a tremendous way. With a big, gaping hole that will never be filled. An emptiness they never fully knew before now. Every parent's worst nightmare.


Will they ever smile again?


I just can't stop thinking, wondering, and hurting for them.


And I can't stop hugging my own children and thanking God for every moment they're alive.

***

6 comments:

Busy Bee Suz said...

I am so sorry to hear this...it is unimaginable.
I will pray for his family.

Teri said...

It is very sad, and things like this always make you think of your own family and want to hold them extra tight...

Life with Kaishon said...

Oh my gosh. This just broke my heart. I don't know how you ever recover from something like that. Sometimes when the kids go out to play and ride their bikes I want to stop them. I just fear that something bad could happen. I don't though. Because honestly, how could we live life if we protected them from every single thing? It would be a sad existence for sure.

April said...

I live in Omaha Nebraska but am a native of R/C and know the grandparents of the boy that died. I love this blog you wrote and others and appreciate that you take the time to consider how this has truly effected them.

Anonymous said...

Thank you for putting into words the thoughts that have been running through many people's minds. The image of his friends cradling him was so comforting - he was not alone. Losing a child must make you feel so hollow, like part of your spirit has flown away with him. You have to go on, but at the same time you miss him every day for the rest of your life b/c you never stop loving him.

Jenn @ Juggling Life said...

This is so tragic.

We can never imagine what the family goes through, but we know from the way it leaves us reeling that the pain is virtually unbearable.

I'm so sorry for this family and for the loss your family has had as well.