Category: Grief and Loss

August 5, 2024

Caroline called a little after 4pm. She said the phone call will be a brief update on the case status and then asked how I was doing. I told her it’s extremely difficult right now but we’re doing the best we can.

She then explained this call is a status update. After reviewing additional information on this case, the Prosecution has raised the counts from one to six:

1 – Murder

2 – Murder

3 – Felonious Assault

4- Tampering with Evidence

5 – Tampering with Evidence

6 – Having Weapons while under disability

She then said the second arraignment for the killer will be on August 9, 2024, at 9am. My presence isn’t mandatory but if I wanted to attend and make a statement to the judge in regard to bond, I could do so, or I could send a written statement for the judge to read.

She said she also spoke with the other victim and gave them the same information.

I paused for a moment and then asked, “What other victim? The woman woman found in the car after my son was murdered?”

“Yes, she was also shot”, she replied.

Something didn’t set well with me at all about this, so I asked her to research this more, shot or not, she’s no victim.

To which she said, “Oh really? Let me speak to the Prosecutors and call you back.”

I hung up the phone and thought to myself, “John’s family are the only true victims here. This is just too much.”

Thirty minutes later the phone rang again.

I answered. Her status is now ‘a person of interest’. Not from what I said, but from the information they have about the case.

“As it should be.”, is what I thought, but instead, said “thank you for getting back to me so quickly.”

I told her John’s funeral is going to be August 8th, but my husband and I will be at the arraignment on the 9th to make our statement to the judge. She offered her condolences again and requested us to arrive at 8am so she can go over any questions we may have and explain what we should expect to happen. She reassured me that she was here for us and will be by our side at the hearing and throughout the entire process.

I thanked her and ended the call.

After I hung up, I said to Ronnie “I can’t believe we have to bury our son in just three more days and then see his killer on the day after his funeral.”

I put my face in my hands and cried.

This is just so unfair.

August 5, 2024

Cindy called Glen Rest Memorial Estate as soon as the office opened today and the receptionist answered the phone. Monday morning is usually the busiest day of the week for most businesses, so we’re happy the call didn’t go to voicemail.

Cindy explained our situation and asked if we could schedule an appointment today to discuss their pricing plans. They were happy to oblige and scheduled us for 10 am.

I’m so overwhelmed!

I have to be at the funeral home at noon to drop off John’s clothes and need to let them know John’s burial site, so meeting with Glen Rest at 10 am is perfect.

At 2 pm, I have a meeting with Sister Pam at First Church to go over John’s funeral program and I’m scheduled to speak with my prosecutor’s advocate at 4 pm so I hope I don’t miss her call.

The unexpected death of a child is already painful enough. I can’t begin to explain the additional trauma involved if they’ve been murdered. You’re expected to speak about your child’s death from a legal perspective, void of emotion, which is unrealistic. Having to do so, feels as if John is dying over and over again.

It’s a nightmare.

While I have the greatest sister and family supporting me, God is the one holding me up.

We headed to Glen Rest shortly after Cindy hung up the phone. Pulling up the gates and seeing the beautiful landscape was like a breath of fresh air. Visually, there is no comparison between Glen Rest and the other two cemeteries we visited two days ago.

The Office Manager greeted us at the front door and we sat down across from her at the table. She expressed her condolences and asked what she could do to help us.

“I need pricing information for a plot at Glen Rest. My son’s funeral is August 8th”

“I see. Did he have life insurance?” she replied.

“No” I said. “John didn’t have life insurance.”

“I want John buried near my mother who is here in the front of the cemetery.”

She then reached into her drawer, pulled out the pricing sheet and placed a copy in front of me.

I looked at it and tried to focus on her as she pointed at various plots on the paper.

“The most expensive plots are at the front of the cemetery close to the entrance and the least expensive are located in the back.”

“My mother is in the front but John will more than likely have to be in the back,” I replied.

I looked at my sister and said, “Either that, or one of two cemeteries included in the funeral package I selected. My mind knows the latter is the best choice financially, considering our predicament, but my heart just can’t go with either one of them.”

She nodded and said, “Go with your heart Shari”

John being in the back of Glen Rest is better than him not being there at all, I thought.

I’ve always planned to be near my mom but since John will be in the back, I’ll be in the back with him.

What mother wouldn’t want that?

My spirit said yes,

Glen Rest it is.

We left Glen rest and dropped off John’s burial clothes to the funeral home. I let them know I decided to have John laid to rest at Glen Rest.

Ms. Davis made a note of it and let me know John’s private viewing will be held at the funeral home on August 7th. She asked what time I preferred and I responded around 10am would be fine with me.

I stood there for a minute thinking, I finally get to see my son again. This will be the first time since he died but I’m so afraid to see him like this.

The reality of John’s death is really sinking in now.

As I was walking back to the car, I received a phone from Sister Pam at First Church of God apologizing because she has to cancel our appointment today and reschedule it for tomorrow at 11am. I let her know 11am is fine and I’ll see her then.

I guess it worked out for the best because my mind needs a break and now, I have more time to decompress before I speak to Caroline, my Victim Assistant/Advocate later today. She’s going to call to give me an update about the murder case for my son.

I have no idea what to expect.

August 4, 2024

I returned home from looking at the cemeteries and fixed a small plate of food along with some iced tea. After a couple of bites of macaroni and cheese, I immediately lost my appetite and pushed the plate aside.

Who can eat at such a devastating time as this?

My mind wandered again as I thought about John.

I can’t stop thinking about my son.

Cindy sat down at the table with me and began eating her dinner. She checked on the GoFundMe and brought me back to reality with an update. Things were going well, which I was pleased to hear. We talked about a few other things regarding the funeral and I continued thinking about John.

After she finished eating and recording the latest GoFundMe donations, on her tablet, she stood up, walked over to the sink to wash off her plate.

I really didn’t like those cemeteries I commented. She agreed and said she totally understood why. They just didn’t have a good feel to her either. Whatever you decide, I’ll support you she said.

“Is there anything else you need?” she asked as she turned toward the hallway?

“No, I’m okay. I need to start writing John’s obituary”

She sighed a little and offered to help.

I shook my head no.

“Thanks but only I can do this. I have no idea what to write but I’m sure God will give me the words to say.”

“Okay, we have a long day tomorrow. Try not to stay up too late. You can always go to bed and get up early in the morning to write it,” She said as she was walking down the hallway.

I looked at the blank screen on my laptop and thought, what in the world do I say?

God, this is so hard.

Please help me.

Thoughts about John

John is a leap year baby who marched to the beat of his own drum. He was tall in stature with kind eyes and a heart of gold. John was my gentle giant. He never picked fights with anyone and was always the first to defend those who were being picked on. Like most teenagers and young adults, many times he didn’t listen to the advice given and had to learn the hard way. As hard as it was for me, I, as his mother, had to learn to let him do things his way. I couldn’t protect him forever. He was his own man.

I began typing, crying and backspacing.

Crying, typing, backspacing and typing again.

“Please help me God”, I said.

I took a deep breath and started writing from my heart. It began to flow and I kept it as short as possible, thinking “less is more”. I finished writing and looked at the digital clock on my stove which read 3:33 am. In numerology the number 333 is often referred to as an “angel number. “This number is a sign of support from my guardian angel to express myself authentically which is what I just did in writing John’s obituary. I took that as a sign from John to be satisfied with what I composed and go to bed.

I headed up the stairs and thought, I’m exhausted.

My Son’s Obituary Read:

John Leon Wilks was born on Thursday, February 29, 1996, in Fayette County Kentucky. He unexpectantly departed this life on Sunday , July 28, 2024, in Columbus Ohio.

John was a member of First Church of God where he accepted Jesus Christ into his life at an early age. He was a gifted singer and self-taught musician, serving God with his talents, by playing the guitar in the Youth Choir, under the direction of Pastor Jimmy Terry and his wife, Joyce. Throughout his life, he spoke of them often when reflecting on his teenage years. He was a true enthusiast for gaming, nature and military history.

John wanted to make a difference in this world by doing whatever he could to make it a better and safer place. He attended Columbus Downtown High School and enrolled in the Law Enforcement Career Program. John was a proud graduate of South High School. During his time at Columbus Downtown, he took immense pride in being part of The Columbus Division of Police Explorers Program which introduces young men and women to the foundation of police work. John’s lifelong dream was to join the military to protect and serve. His happiest moment was taking the Oath of Enlistment as he embarked upon that journey. John’s calm presence, gentle nature and patient spirit touched the hearts of all he came in contact with.

John was preceded in death by grandparents, Viola Kelley Thurman, Eddie Thurman Jr., Willie Wilks, Jessie Nell Wilks and Leta Davis. Left to cherish his memory are his daughter, Kameelah Elizabeth Wilks; parents Ronnie and Shari Wilks; sister, Justice Wilks; birthmother, Kameelah Salaam, ‘Pops’, Perry Thurman, and a host of aunts, uncles, cousins, extended family and friends that will all miss him dearly.

That was my John.

August 4, 2024

I took a well-needed break from gathering the pictures for John’s video tribute by going on a visit to look at two cemeteries the funeral home told us about. These cemeteries are the choices included in the funeral package I selected.

I joked with Cindy and asked if she was tired of driving Miss Daisy around. She laughed and said, no, not yet.

The drive wasn’t very long but as soon as we arrived at the first cemetery, I immediately knew I didn’t want to bury John here. The headstones looked like a hodge podge of cement blocks all on top of each other. The winding gravel road which led to the plots kicked up dust all around the car and it just felt dirty. And creepy. I mean no disrespect to this cemetery, or those who chose to have their loved ones buried there, but it was nothing like the beautiful, peaceful, and lush grounds of Glen Rest equipped with its own cremation garden.

The more we drove around the cemetery, the more my eyes, heart and spirit said no.

“Let’s take a look at the second one”, Cindy said as we were driving out, “hopefully that one will be better.”

The second cemetery just so happened to be directly across the street. I was happy to see the entrance look more inviting than the first, but the more she drove, the more my eyes, heart and spirit still said no.

The entrance is fine, but the graveyard itself wasn’t much better than the one we just saw.

“I’m sorry, Cindy”, I said. “These two just are not it. I want John buried in a place which feels like peace and serenity. That’s what I always loved most about Glen Rest. I know Glen Rest is more expensive but that’s where John has to be.”

She emphatically shook her head yes and agreed.

“Decision made”, she said.

She then said she’ll add it to our “to do” list for tomorrow and call Glen Rest in the morning to schedule a visit. We’ll need to discuss plot availability and pricing.

God will provide.

He has to.

Time was running out. I had to get back home to compose John’s obituary to submit to the funeral home by tomorrow morning.

I have no idea what I’m going to write.

August 4, 2024

I’m catatonic.

Getting out of bed today is just as hard as it has been every day since John was murdered. If I could lay here in a ball and cry all day, I would do it. No doubt about it. I don’t want to do anything at all, but I know life keeps moving forward and I have to move right along with it

I have a funeral to plan for my only son. It’s my mission to send John off the way he deserves, so, because of him, I muster up the strength to get out of bed once again.

The calls keep coming, the doorbell constantly rings, and the food continues to be replenished by thoughtful, kind family and friends during our greatest time of need.

I’m very grateful.

In addition to my sister-mom, Cindy, being our constant source of support, my sister-in-love Annie-Mae has been amazing. Annie-Mae is my husband’s oldest sister. She continues to bring dish after dish of delicious food every day. Annie also sits with Ronnie providing comfort and conversation as he tries to cope with this devastating loss.

While I have absolutely no appetite whatsoever, the little food I have eaten, cooked by Annie-Mae has made my tastebuds dance. She can cook like no other. Her special ingredient is love.

I move the pan of chicken alfredo to the side and sit down at my kitchen table. I set the bags of photos in front of me and sigh. Looking through these pictures used to be so much fun but today is a different story.

As I begin to go through hundreds of photos of John for the video tribute, my heart breaks even more. He was such a sweet little boy who marched to the beat of his own drum. His eyes were filled with wonder and so much excitement as a child. He had the attention span of a gnat but loved his Gi-Joe’s and would play with them for hours on end. He was a protector of his little sister, Justice. The pictures of them together show the special bond shared between the two. John grew into a handsome young man and then adult but always kept his heart of gold.

Pictures of our little family together, Ronnie, John, Justice, and me….

I can’t do this.

It’s too hard.

Then I hear John’s voice in my head saying, “You can do this mom. You can do this. Keep going.”

So, through the tears, I pull out the best photos I can find to show everyone John’s short life through the years.

The pictures that break my heart the most are of John and his eight-year-old daughter Kammy. Especially the picture I chose to close out the video, which is of them walking hand in hand on one of the last days they spent together.

A picture which shows father and daughter walking together into the future or, sadly in this case, the last picture of them with each other.

So much has been taken by a senseless act of violence!

John won’t be here for Kammy’s thirteenth birthday.

He won’t be here for her sweet sixteen.

He’ll be missing her High School graduation when she turns eighteen.

He won’t be there to walk her down the aisle and give her away on her wedding day.

He won’t see Kammy become a mother for the first time, nor will he be here to experience the joy of being a grandfather.

Not only will John miss these important milestones in her life, but Kammy will also miss her father’s presence even more.

In the midst of all these negative thoughts, I stop and hear:

But the most important thing she does have are all the memories.

No one can ever take those away from her.

August 3, 2024

Children don’t usually think about the clothes they’ll be wearing for their own funeral. They have their full life ahead of them and are planning for the future.

Parents don’t usually think about having to pick out burial clothes for their child. They think about their child’s graduation day and, wedding day. Watching them create memories with their own children and just joining in on the flow.

Yet here we are.

We have to decide what John will wear for his own funeral and this sucks.

John wasn’t a suit and tie kind of guy so I’m not burying him in a suit and tie.

He always wore fatigues.

His lifelong dream was to be a soldier, and he went to boot camp to become a marine. Unfortunately, it was a dream deferred when he was released on honorable discharge before completion.

Despite that, John was a military man in his heart, so we both, know what he would want to wear.

Fatigues.

But they can’t be just any old fatigues. Not the type of fatigues ordered on Amazon and delivered at your door. They have to be official fatigues worn by soldiers in the military.

I had no idea where to find them, but I knew Ronnie would.

Ronnie’s having a really hard time dealing with John’s murder, so I’ve taken the lead, in handling all the affairs concerning John’s funeral, but picking out John’s burial fatigues is the perfect thing for Ronnie to do. I asked if he’d go with me to buy them because I had no idea where to go.

Of course, he agreed and knew the perfect place; General Merchandise Co, which is a military surplus store.

Ronnie used to take John to General Merchandise Co, when he was a child/teenager because John loved all things military. They would spend hours on end in that store picking out all types of military items from clothes to canteens. John would come home with the biggest smile on his face as he dumped everything out of the bag, onto the floor, to show me what he got.

But today’s visit would be nothing like visits from days past.

We pulled up to the store and as soon as we entered the door, I understood why John loved it so much. It was military heaven and had everything you could think of inside. It also had a musty smell to it but not musty in the sense of funky. Musty as in the musty odor of long-term storage. These clothes were worn by soldiers and treated with cleaning chemicals before being placed in storage, so the mixture of chemicals and storage made the building smell musty.

Ronnie paused for a moment and looked around. I could tell by the look in his eyes, he was going back down memory lane and thinking of the last time he and John were in this store together during much happier days.

I rubbed his back and said, “I know this is so hard for you.”

That quickly snapped him out of it. Although there were rows and rows full of fatigues in assorted colors and designs, Ronnie went directly to the rack which had John’s favorite kind. He pulled out several shirts in John’s size, held them up, and meticulously looked at each sleeve. He then looked at the front of the shirt, followed by the back. I watched, thinking they were all the same, but maybe he was just waiting to get that special feeling.

He then said, “This is the one”, and walked over to another rack filled with pants and did the same thing.

I could tell this was taking a toll on him. Hoping to speed up the process, I asked if he wanted to get anything else before we went to check out.

He surveyed the store and said, “No, I think we’re done here.”

As we were walking toward the register, he suddenly stopped and said,

“Socks. We still need to get him some socks.”

He went over to the area of the store to grab a pair of socks which took much longer than picking out Johns clothes.

I walked over to the register and patiently waited.

The clerk rang us up and we headed to the door. Ronnie paused and turned around to get one last look at the place which brought John so much joy.

He then shook his head and walked out the door.

The outfit Ronnie chose for John to wear looks exactly like the one he’s wearing below.

I can see John giving Ronnie a thumbs up as he smiles down on him saying,

“Good job, dad.”

And of course, the mom in me wasn’t going to let my child smell musty. As soon as we got home, I threw everything in the washer and added an extra dose of Downy for good measure.

I’m sure John rolled his eyes and laughed, thinking “Soldiers don’t put Downy on their clothes, mom.”

August 2, 2024

One of the most stressful things about sudden death is not only the death itself but the costs of laying your loved one to rest. Especially, if they don’t have life insurance or any other means of paying the funeral expenses.

I’m trying my best to remain standing from a blow that has crushed my soul and now something else is knocking the wind out of me.

John didn’t renew the life insurance policy we had originally set up for him, so it lapsed. The responsibility of paying his funeral expenses now fell on me and Ronnie, and we don’t have the money.

After our meeting with Mr. Caliman, I was afraid we wouldn’t be able to pay for John’s funeral. I’m not an elaborate or extra person whatsoever but I’m adamant about giving my son a proper homegoing. I also want him buried at Glen Rest where my mom is and where I will be as well. I want John with me.

While sitting in the passenger seat of my sister’s rental car as she drove us home from the meeting, I pulled out the Funeral contract. The contract contains the details of the funeral package we selected for John. My eyes zeroed in on the total cost at the bottom of the statement, $11,396.21. The thought in my head slipped right out of my mouth,

“Oh my God, we can’t raise that much money!’

And of course, the tears started to flow…yet again.

“We sure can, and we sure will,” Cindy replied back. “You, Ronnie and John have so many people who love you and they’ll come through.”

We have less than a week to raise over $11,000.00. We have six days. Just SIX days to raise over $11,000.00.

Although my faith has faltered over the past three days, I’m a firm believer in God. He has been a constant source of provision and strength to me ever since I accepted Jesus into my life August 7, 1988. But this is one of the greatest tests I’ve ever faced, and I’m worried.

I pray He comes through for us.

I pray He comes through for John.

Please God. Please come through.

We returned home and Cindy researched various GoFundMe campaigns set up by other families who were facing unexpected losses. She discovered the most successful campaigns were written in a way that drew you into their story. Stories that made you feel their pain. Stories that made you act and want to help.

So, she sat down and began to compose the GoFundMe post. With a few tweaks here and there, she posted it, and the donations started pouring in from everywhere:

Dear family, friends, and compassionate givers,

It’s with profound sadness that we share the heartbreaking news of the sudden and tragic passing of John Wilks on July 28, 2024. We are seeking your support in helping lay John Wilks to rest – a beloved son, proud father, loyal brother, faithful friend and above all, a very kind soul. John was truly one of a kind. Tall in stature with a gentle nature, he had a heart of pure gold and dreamed of making a difference in this world through acts of kindness and service.

His sudden passing has left an immeasurable and deep void in our hearts that can never be filled or replaced. Beyond the emotional toll of his unexpected passing, the financial burden of funeral expenses is overwhelming. As the family tries to get through this difficult loss, assistance is needed to alleviate some of the stress by helping to cover the expenses of his funeral and burial.

Please consider donating and sharing this campaign with your network. Every contribution, no matter how big or small, will go directly towards covering the cost of John’s funeral, burial, and other related expense to give John the respectful and loving farewell that he deserves. This support will also allow the family to focus on remembering John and his beautiful soul, while helping bring a measure of peace of mind they so desperately need during this time.

Together, we can help lay John to rest.

With sincere gratitude,

Thank you!

August 2, 2024

Last night was horrible. I couldn’t stop crying and thinking about John, so needless to say I got little to no sleep.

Ronnie did the best he could to comfort me, but I still couldn’t stop the tears from flowing.

I had to get it together. We were meeting with the Funeral Director to finalize John’s funeral arrangements in just a few hours.

I went downstairs to grab something to eat but I still didn’t have an appetite.

We arrived at the funeral home a few minutes late, but Mr. Caliman greeted us with a smile and was very understanding.

Mr. Caliman offered his condolences as we sat down and then began the meeting. He pulled out the funeral package pricing sheet and began going over the costs of each individual package and what they included. I’m so glad my sister-mom was with us because I couldn’t follow a word he was saying. Cindy had pen and notepad in hand and handled everything like a boss. She clarified and confirmed the massive amount of information being given to us and posed thoughtful questions. She then translated the information to us so we could make the decisions.

Mr. Caliman then asked if we had a date and time for the funeral to which I replied,

“Yes, August 8th, at First Church of God at 10 am”

He made a note of it on his laptop.

“Where do you want John’s burial held? We have two specific cemetery locations which are included in the packages at a discounted price.”

I immediately responded, “Glen Rest Memorial Estates”. This is where my mother and maternal side of the family are buried but sadly, it wasn’t one of the choices.

He then informed us it would be more expensive to bury John at Glen Rest but if that’s where we wanted him to be, it wouldn’t be a problem.

Actually, there was a problem. When John became an adult, he didn’t continue the life insurance policy we set up for him, so it lapsed. We didn’t have the money to pay his funeral expenses. I had no idea what we should do about the burial location.

I wrestled with this decision because I know we have to watch the budget, but I want John buried at the same cemetery where I will be. Once the good Lord calls me home, I want John next to me.

Cindy broke the conundrum by suggesting we take a visit to see the two cemeteries included in the package and then make the decision.

Thank God for my Sister-Mom. Her presence was invaluable especially for all the contract discussion but I did know what I wanted when it came to John’s casket. I wanted a black coffin with a spray of flowers that contained red carnations and white carnations with tips dipped in black, placed on top of the casket.

John’s favorite colors were black, red, and white.

I smiled just a little and said, “I think he would like that” and Ronnie agreed.

Cindy figured out the remaining details and presented them to us for agreement so Mr. Caliman could draw up the contract.

Mr. Caliman then turned to Ronnie and asked,

“How do you want John’s hair cut? Does he have a beard?”

Ronnie described what he wanted

Mr. Caliman said he understood, but asked me to email a picture of John for the barber to look at.

I broke down yet again and leaned on Ronnie for comfort. This is so damn hard.

Mr. Caliman then handed the meeting over to his sweet assistant, Ms. Davis, who went over a few more details with us.

She asked if I had an idea of what I wanted to include in the obituary.

“No, I haven‘t figured that out yet,” I responded.

She asked if I wanted a video tribute playing on the screen during John’s viewing.

I didn’t even think of that but said “yes, of course”

She asked if I had burial clothes for John.

“Ummm, no but I’ll get them” I replied.

She then handed me a form which would assist me with composing the obituary, provided the website address to upload my pictures and music for the video tribute and said she needed this information completed and returned to her by the morning of August 5th.

We could bring John’s clothes when we come in to sign the contract on August 5th, she instructed.

“This is all so overwhelming” I thought.

She not only read my face but also my body language and quickly gave me a hug.

“Call me if you have any questions or need assistance and I’ll be happy to help” she said when the embrace ended, “Again, I’m so sorry for your loss.”

My spirit was crushed.

I have so much to do in so little time.

This funeral is going to be expensive, and we don’t have the money to pay for it. I didn’t really look at the total amount quoted at the bottom of the paper I held in my hand, but I knew it wouldn’t be cheap.

What a mess.

God, please help us.

August 1, 2024

Today I spent most of the morning in bed crying. I still have so much to do but I just couldn’t get out of bed.

By midafternoon, I was finally up and on the phone with the Prosecutors’ office, the Medical Examiner’s office, my church office and the funeral home. I let the office assistant at the funeral home know we want them to handle John’s funeral in conjunction with my church and need to schedule a meeting with Mr. Caliman for tomorrow.

I’m an empty shell just going through the motions.

The most important call of the day was to First Church of God. Sister Valerie, the Church Clerk, answered the phone and I explained that I needed to speak to someone about scheduling a date for John’s funeral. She let me know Sister Pam handles the funerals for the church and would give me a call back later today.

A few hours later, Sister Pam called and expressed her love and condolences. She gathered a little more information from me, and we decided John’s Homegoing Celebration would be held at First Church of God on August 8, 2024. The viewing will begin at 10am followed by the funeral which will start at eleven.

I thanked her for calling me back, hung up the phone and cried.

It’s official, August 8th will be the day I say my final goodbye to my son.

I still can’t believe he’s dead.

I love you, John.

July 31, 2024

Today was our first visit to the funeral home.

We arrived a few minutes early and were greeted with a warm smile from the clerk at the front desk. She instructed us to take a seat and the funeral Directors assistant will be out shortly.

I looked around and thought, yeah, this is a funeral home. The interior was made up to be as inviting as possible and felt somewhat familiar. Then I remembered we were at this funeral home a few years ago for a service for my husband’s nephew. But today, it looked totally different. It looked different because of the reason I was here this time. We were here to discuss the funeral service for my son

I sat there still in disbelief as to why we were here.

I looked around the room and saw pictures hanging on the dark wooden walls. There was also a display stand filled with several types of pamphlets about death and how to handle it. I took a pamphlet from the display and began to read it; “Surviving the death of a child.” A stream of tears began to flow down my cheeks.

This is all too real, I thought.

I reached over to grab a tissue from a lavender floral box on the tiny wooden end table beside me.

And cried.

The Assistant Funeral Director came to the lobby a few minutes later and led us back to a small conference room. We sat down and he expressed his condolences. He explained, since this was a preliminary meeting, he would provide the basic information, give us a package pricing sheet and answer any questions we had. If we decide to allow them to handle John’s services, we should call them by tomorrow to schedule a meeting with The Funeral Director, Mr. Caliman, on August 2nd.

He briefly explained the various packages and my sister-mom, Cindy, took copious notes and asked all the questions. To be honest I couldn’t think straight and could only answer a few questions so she stepped in just like my mother would have done had she still been here with us.

The meeting was short which was fine with me. Discussing John’s funeral is the last thing I want to do right now. All I wanted to do was go home and cry.

We returned home just in time to catch my mother’s sisters, Aunt Kay, Aunt Marilyn and Ms. Debbie as they were dropping off a large pan of baked spaghetti, several bags of mixed salad and garlic bread. They greeted me with warm hugs and lots of love as they expressed their condolences but didn’t stay too long. They could see how exhausted I was.

Every time I see my aunts, it makes me miss my mom so much. I really need a hug from her and to hear her say everything will be alright.