I choose to #doitforbrian

The quality of one’s life is not determined by length but by depth.  What that person brought to this world while they were here. I proudly say that my son Brian brought so much to so many the 17 years he was here on earth.   

My story began on August 29, 1997 the day I was blessed this beautiful brown haired, blue eyed baby boy.  The happiest day of my life.  Fast forward  17 years later to November 7, 2014, the day my son was an auto accident and did not survive.  The day my life as I knew it would be changed, forever.

The day started off like any other morning. I woke up, got ready for work, woke up Brian for school. Brian came downstairs while I was drinking coffee, all wet in his towel, asking me to iron his clothes for school that day.  I, as usual, said "okay".  As I was ironing his clothes I had a package sitting on the kitchen counter that was delivered the evening prior. New black boots. I told Brian as I was ironing that he could open the box for me. He opens the box and starts laughing and is like "mom, really these are ugly". I come in the kitchen and my god they were. We are both laughing and I bust out into song and sing " these boots are made for walking and that's just what I'll do and one of these days these boots will walk all over you" and as I'm singing I'm poking Brian. We're laughing. As he is laughing he hugs me and says "I love you". Looking back now at that morning I cherish that hug as it was the last time I would ever hug my son. I get in my car. Brian gets in his car and as I look at him he signs "I love you" with his hands. I signal back. Little did I know that a few hours later Brian would be gone. 

The following weeks/months I just did not know how I was going to do this. How to live my life without him. If I even wanted to. Each day was filled with endless crying and the why him and how could this happen to such an amazing young man with his entire life in front of him.  He was suppose to be getting ready to graduate high school in June, not be gone. Brian is my world. My life. My purpose. What is life without him. 

And then it happened…  The first time I laughed after Brian's passing I paused and thought to myself how can I be laughing. My son is gone and I'm laughing. I felt guilty. But then I realized me laughing didn't mean I have forgotten he was gone. It didn't make the pain in my heart hurt any less. It didn't make me not miss him any less. What it did mean is that I was still alive and that I could miss him, be heartbroken, be in pain but yet still experience joy.  Brian had a mother who was full of life. Who was ditsy, funny and who didn't take life or herself too seriously. What kind of mother would I be if he was looking down from heaven watching me deteriorate. Brian hated when he saw me upset. I know he would not want me to live the remainder of my life in sorrow, every single day. I had to accept joy and happiness again just like I had to accept the sadness and pain. I had to accept that while I was sad and crying that at the same time it was okay for me to laugh and enjoy life. Not an easy task to do hand in hand. It literally is like being on a roller coaster, which is funny because I hate roller coasters, Brian for years tried to get me on one, but that's what this journey is like. One minute I can be laughing having a good time and a couple hours later be on the couch crying because I miss my son so much. It took time to accept and truly understand that for me in my life now that sadness and happiness go hand in hand with each other and that's okay. It was okay for me to cry but it was also okay for me to laugh. I wasn't betraying my son or his memory by enjoying life still. Because of the relationship I have with my son the opposite would be true. I would be dishonoring him, our relationship, the bond and love we have if I chose to crawl into a ball, hide in a dark room and let what is the remainder of my life pass me by. Our love is too deep for me to allow that to happen. The first day I laughed after Brian's passing was the day I realized there was HOPE. 

I learned so much about myself, about death and about love.  Prior to that horrible day I had thought I knew all I needed to know about life, love, relationships, heartbreak.  I was wrong.  The funny thing about death is that it really does not tear two people apart. It never wins. 

My dad was right, I would find a new purpose.  My purpose was Brian when he was alive.  My purpose now, funny enough, is still Brian. The greatest gift that I learned was that I may not be a mom in the typical sense as I was before when Brian was here, but I definitely have not stopped mothering Brian, in the spiritual sense. Death could not change that. Through me he lives on. From keeping his memory alive with the news articles to help teens be safer behind the wheel, the scholarship that was created to assist children with their college education, Adopting the Highway in his name to keep our community clean, walking across the stage at his high school graduation because he couldn’t, keeping the last place he took his final breathe beautiful, sharing my story and sharing his life and memories with so many people who love him and those who did not know my son get to learn about him through me. This makes me a mom. It makes me Brian’s mom.  

Because I am Brian’s mom I choose to embrace the laughing, the smiles and the joy.

Today, like every day, I choose to #doitforbrian