The last day I saw my boy, two days before he died, is full of many
regrets and sorrow. I thank God I never let a conversation with my boy
end without saying I love you, but there are so many moments I want to
do over.
Brandon had a seizure late in the
morning that day. I'd just turned off my air conditioner in my room and
heard what I thought was a crash. Since he'd been suffering from
seizures for about two and a half years, I'd become attuned to listening
for sounds (or the lack of sounds) that were out of the ordinary. I
called his name and got up to go check his room. He wasn't there and it
was then that I heard a rhythmic, very faint "clicking" sound. I knew
immediately that he'd had a seizure and ran downstairs, where I found
him in front of the stove. The crash I'd heard was the butter dish
flying across the kitchen floor. I stood next to him and just held onto
him, until it was over and then waited for him to come around to be
able to send him to lie down upstairs. When he woke up, I told him to
go lie down and I would make him some eggs and an English muffin. I
asked him if he'd been skipping his medication and he said maybe a
couple of times.
Normally, when he had a seizure, he
slept the day away, exhausted from all his poor body would go through
each time. His muscles would ache from being tensed up and he'd have a
headache. How I wish that's what he had done on that day. Instead, he
got up after not too long and wanted to go out, since it was a nice
day. We'd planned to see a screening for Fast & Furious, so I told
him that we would go to the movies. I had the date wrong, though, and
couldn't find another movie I wanted to see.
As we
walked to the parking lot, I pushed Brandon to make a decision on
whether he would go to his Grandpa's, as I'd insisted, or decide to go
against my wishes. He went against me, which surprised, hurt and
infuriated me, all at once. I'd set some ground rules, several months
before that he hadn't taken seriously, partly due to his lack of
motivation and my lack of following through on my threats. I'd hoped
that he'd come to the adult conclusion and take the consequences for his
actions, though, legally he didn't have to. He was a respectful boy,
even when stubbornly breaking the rules. He even said he didn't want me
to hate him. I assured him that I could never hate him, but promptly
flipped out about his decision.
I drove home angrier
than I can remember in a long time. I realized a couple of days later,
and planned to let let him know, that it was because I was so hurt by
his decision to blatantly go against me. He broke many rules in his
lifetime, but not blatantly, because he didn't want to hurt us and
didn't much care for punishment, though that was really never an issue.
He really did not want to disappoint us.
So, I drove
crazy. I wish I'd gotten in a wreck because I think things would've
been so different. Maybe not, since I don't yet know how he died, but
he'd have been with me, regardless. How I didn't get into a wreck, I
don't know, but I was mad and yelling at him the whole way home. We got
home, I told him to get out. We walked in the house and I called his
dad, just going off. I tried to make it clear to Brandon, as did my
husband, that he was closing the door to his home with his decision. He
said he understood, but had to make it on his own. Something that, in
his 19 year old mind, he didn't realize was possible yet. And, I know
we have to let our kids make their own mistakes, but I just really
thought I could keep him safe and save his life until his maturity
caught up and realized how much he needed our help.
I
got back in the car and planned to leave, figuring I'd call Brandon
later, after I calmed down. Instead, I ended up texting his dad a book
and before I'd finished, there was Brandon at the passenger door, asking
me to unlock the trunk so he could put his bags in there. In my mind, I
thought, "Are you SERIOUSLY asking me for a ride to your friend's
house, where you're going WITHOUT my blessing? SERIOUSLY?" But, I had
a check in my spirit. I immediately felt like God told me to let this
one go, to just give him a ride. One of the few things I did that day
that I am proud of, though I realize that had I not insisted on my way,
he wouldn't have left. I guess maybe he would've, I'll never really
know that, but I'm sorry I won't ever have the opportunity to find
out.
So, he got in the car and I had a talk with
him. I told him not to wear his struggles like a badge and to not be
proud...if it didn't work out at his friends, don't turn to the street,
COME HOME. He said he knew and we had a little conversation on the
short ride. When we got there, he turned to me to hug and kiss me like
always and we said I love you.
Later that night, I
called him and got no answer. I called repeatedly and started to panic
b/c he knew the phone rule and knew if I was unable to get a hold of him
immediately, my imagination took over, fear took a hold of me and I
went straight into meltdown mode. I finally called his friend, who
informed me that he was at someone else's house, the mother of a friend
of his, a place TOTALLY off limits and unsafe. He said that Brandon
didn't want me to know. The boy finally called me back and told me that
he was sorry, that he'd fallen asleep. I said, "At ******* house?" He
asked me how I knew that. I made it clear to him how utterly
disrespectful it was, given how I feel about this woman (justified, b/c
this woman lied to both me and the paramedics when he OD'd many months
prior, telling them he'd had another seizure, instead of telling them
the truth, which could've cost him his life) and how I didn't want him
there. He insisted that it was short term and he had his own room
there, unlike his friend's house, and he said that his friend wasn't
ready for him yet. I finally relented and told him I was sorry for
angry words earlier, but that I also wanted him to understand that if he
was going to make decisions like that, he was going to have to deal
with hearing some ugly things, something I told him he could do if the
situation were reversed. It doesn't take back the words, but we were
two peas of a pod who could yell and insult with the best of them, but
we always knew what we threw out in anger didn't mean we loved any
less. This was no exception.
I talked to him that next
day, again, very briefly. Again, told him I love him and he told me
he'd call me later or the next morning, I forget which now. When I
didn't hear from him Saturday, I tried calling him and texting him. I
wanted to take him to lunch on Sunday and have a heart to heart and make
sure that he knew how much I loved him. Of course, there was no Sunday
lunch, I'd never the chance to take him out to eat, again, something he
loved.
Dear Chiquita... my beloved friend... what can I say? nothing babe... just cant continue reading for now... Tried to since you opened this blog but... I always start to cry...
ReplyDeleteLove you hunny. And I walk with you in spirit. Believe me.
HUGS Pati Esquivel aka Patrilda