Our Journey of Healing

May 21st, 2008 | by Matt |

It’s been a little over two weeks since we lost Kevin, and we are still trying to adjust to our changed life. We miss him terribly every day. Our house is too quiet and our life is too calm without his voice, his laugh, his cries for “cup!”, diaper changes, bedtime rituals, and nap time considerations. He brought such joy and happiness to our lives, and the void that he left is so obvious.

We can’t even begin to thank everyone enough for your help and comforting words when we have needed it most. The number of people who came to Kevin’s visitation was overwhelming, and showed how many lives he touched during his short life. The outpouring of love and support that we have received has shown us what great family and friends we have and how much everyone is willing to give of themselves for someone in need. Thank you so much.

We have okay days and not-so-okay days. Life must go on, and we are slowly easing our way into our “new normal”. Once the initial shock passed and we got through all the days of things to take care of, places to go, and people visiting, we’ve found that the reality of all this hits us differently. It sinks in and feels more real. It’s a profound sadness that is always with us and the ache keeps getting deeper. Every day we remember more things that we miss about Kevin and see things that remind us again that he’s not with us. Random thoughts enter our minds and our stomachs twist as the realization that he died hits again. Sometimes we can just sit and look at pictures and watch video for hours in the hope that we never forget what it was like to have him with us. Going places, eating dinner, bedtime, the morning routine – it’s all easier now, but it’s an easy that we don’t want so we don’t enjoy. We wish we could have back the days of messing with car seats, warming up corn dogs, getting cups of milk, putting in Baby Einstein movies trying to find the one he wants, and reading book after book.

Emily is handling everything as well as can be expected for an 8-yr-old. She is strong, but still has moments where she breaks down in tears, or comes into our room in the morning after having a dream about Kevin. She asks very insightful questions about Kevin and our family. We try to be as honest as we can and let her know that we don’t have all the answers either. She has continued to do well in school and play with her friends.

Out of all losses and tragedies some positive things must come, and we’ve found this to be true with Kevin’s death. It’s brought us great joy to hear stories of lives that have been changed because of Kevin. People have told us that they are going to change their lifestyle and spend more time with their kids. That they will try to live each day to the fullest like Kevin did. They have decided to be an organ donor or to donate blood. Two people can now see because they received Kevin’s corneas (the only organ of his that he was able to donate). And one person decided that if Kevin could undergo tests and procedures, then he could be strong enough to get a test that he had been avoiding – and the fact that he did it sooner rather than later may have saved his life. Kevin touched so many people during his life, and it’s comforting to know that even his loss can have a positive effect on people.

One thing that we are doing in memory of Kevin is creating a garden / sitting area in our backyard. We plan to get a nice fountain with flowing water that we can sit and watch, relax, and enjoy being outside. We will plant some flowers and plants and trees that were given to us in memory of Kevin. It will be a place of comfort, and somewhere that we will sit often and remember him.

We will continue to post updates about how our family is doing and anything that those who loved Kevin may be interested in. We know that many of you loved him dearly and are also still dealing with the loss of him in your life. We hope that all the positive things that have come from his death and the love of your family and friends will bring you comfort as well.