Monday, May 08, 2017
The Phone Call
May 8, 2003, started out like any other spring day. I was loving my new life with my new husband of 1 year. It was a Thursday and he had just come home from work - he worked at Sony Play Station and I was a nanny for a wealthy Silicon Valley family. Earlier in the day, we had received a phone call from his father, who had just remarried and they were on their way up from Southern California so we could meet his new bride. They were planning to work their way up to visit family in Seattle and then on to Wisconsin, where Arvilla was from. We got a kick out of the fact, that my husband's father met his bride online. He was 77 years old.
Around 5 pm, the newlyweds came and we visited. We decided to go out for Mexican, so my husband took them in his car and I was picking up my son Foodie, and we would meet them all at the restaurant. My son was in the passenger seat when my cell phone rang. It was 6:15 pm. We were in bumper to bumper traffic - I answered the phone and it was an LA police officer.
The nice officer did his best to tell me, but I knew...mothers know. My son died unexpectedly from an undiagnosed heart defect. Michael was 25.
To this day, when I go back to my old hometown, I can remember the exact place I was on the freeway when I received that phone call. And I think of that phone call, every time.
Navy was a senior in HS. It was hard telling him. He had joined the Navy a month prior and Michael was proud of him. He loved his brother.
For 5 hours, as we drove down I-5 to Long Beach, I screamed and I cried. All I could say,
"Nooooooooooo this can't be"
"How will I live with this?"
"I don't want to live"
"WHY WHY WHY?"
14 years later I am no longer crying and screaming out in agony. I could...if I allowed myself to. To this day, I stay away from any form sentimentality. Movies, books, photos - anything that touches my heart can trigger me. So I have become quite stoic. Sometimes, it seems like I am cold and uncaring. No, I am protecting myself and my emotions.
I was a real whack, for about 9 years. Each year, lessened until one day, I came out of it. I was sick of grieving. I was sick of crying. I just made the decision I didn't want to live that way and I wanted to live and enjoy life with my family.
Life hasn't been the same. I am not the same.
and it all started with that phone call.
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