The First Sign I Received After My Son’s Death
It’s at 700 pm when I normally receive my daily call from my oldest son, Justin. However, on January 5, 2016, it was his father who called me on my way home from work using Justin’s cellphone. All he said to me was, “Justin is gone.”
I knew my life would never be the same after that call. Justin had an asthma attack, and the hospital could not revive him. He was such a healthy kid! He was a football and basketball captain and had dreams of becoming a federal agent just like me. But he sometimes had those allergies that triggered his asthma, especially when the weather changed.
My legs buckled as I parked the car and tried to walk back into my apartment. I was a single mom with two other kids, Crystle was only 9 and her brother Cameron was 15. They were both home, and I only had a minute to walk up the stairs to my apartment, wondering how I would tell them. I tried finding the keys, but my fingers wouldn’t work with me. I walked into the apartment while both Crystle and Cameron were doing their homework on the dining room table, and I just fell to the floor and started crying. I was a mess.
My kids ran to me and hugged me, all three of us on the floor trying to deal with losing Justin.
My employer, working back in the 1980s for the federal government, informed me to take the time I needed…
