Dealing with Grief

With only 19 days until the 10th anniversary of the crash, I want to talk about how I coped. I had so many questions. I quickly learned that some could not be answered. But for the ones that could, it was up to me to get them. With the funeral over, my mind was filled with so many things. It was as if my body was energized by all the actions.

I would never tell a parent or grandparent how to grieve. Far too many felt they had to tell me how to handle the death of our only child. They seemed to think that the death of Shannon shouldn't bother me, and that Ruby was simply there. Only 2 months old, how could we love her that much? The first thing I learned is that no one is an expert on grief. Grief is as unique as a snowflake. This grief was mine, and I was the only one who could do what was necessary to survive it.

I had finally started sleeping. But at 4:15 every morning, I would wake up. I would hear Ruby crying. I had to find out why. What was going on at that time? I had to know if they had suffered. Were they afraid? What went on?

I finally decided I had to see the car. I would get answers there. Clif would not go with me to see it, but insisted I not go alone. The only person I could find to go with me was someone they had control over. She was determined I would do things her way; she knew what was best for me. This added to the rage I already felt. The trip to Puckett's, where the car was being held, started with a fight over who would drive. This was something I had to have total control over. She was only with me because of Clif. She had to simply sit back and go with the flow. I think this was the first step I made in taking back control over my life and my grief.

When we arrived, a sweet young man was told to take me to the car. As we walked, he told me how sorry he was. He had known Jason, had known him for years. I was suddenly not alone. I knew that Pucketts was where towed and wrecked cars went. But the number of cars was overwhelming. It felt like we would never get there. But I saw it. I could see the back of their car, the car I had ridden in so many times. In fact, just four days before the crash, I rode with Shannon and Ruby to the doctor. I had driven it, followed it. I felt so happy to see it. And it looked fine. The trunk was partially open. I almost ran to the car. I began going through the trunk. They had gone to Walmart. What they had bought was right there. Diapers, medicine, and even a new ball for Ruby. He brought me a box so I could take them home with me. Everything was intact. But then I noticed the stroller. Ruby's stroller. How had it gotten bent?

I went to the driver's side. The inside was awful, but the car wasn't really damaged. I still had no answer, but I touched the seat where my baby boy had sat, the steering wheel he had touched. The dash was bent, the windshield broken, and none of that made sense to me. All I knew was, this is where he sat for the last time in his life. So much dirt and that horrible smell. But the car was only damaged on the inside in my mind. It wasn't registering what I was seeing. Such total destruction had taken place and I couldn't make sense of it. All I knew was this is where my baby was when it happened. My new question was where the dirt come from and what was that smell.

I finally came to the passenger side of the car. The daze I was in was yanked away as it became clear. The sheer magnitude of what they had gone through hit me like a battering ram. I heard the words of the newscaster in my head: an approximately 30-year-old woman died instantly. This is how, this is why. The coroner told me that Jason had three skull fractures to the back of his head, that he was brain dead at the scene. It was finally making sense, and the rage boiled up in me, and I couldn't contain it any longer. It came out in screams that were from hell itself. The words that were coming out of me were unbelievable. Language I don't use. But there it was. And a question was answered. Jason and Shannon didn't suffer. BUT WHAT ABOUT RUBY?

I know Ruby made it to the hospital for surgery. But why didn't she live? Her car seat was turned sideways but intact. What killed her? Why did we lose her? And where did all that dirt in the car come from? And that horrible smell, why did the car smell like that? These were questions I would have to find the answer to another day.