Walk A Mile - Flashback, Part 1

How ironic that when you have the best day of your life the little details escape memory – but have the worst day of your life and you can recall each and every moment. The anniversary of my son’s death is approaching. Anniversary, what an inappropriate word to use for the return of tragedy. Anniversary makes me think of celebrations and laughter. I have a friend who is from Peru who feels this is an opportunity to celebrate. Celebrate his life and honor the man he was. I think I like that approach and I am going to give it a try. But first, I need to allow the memories, what I call the flashback, to surface so I can hopefully cope in a more suitable manner. I say surface, because I try not to think about the end of January 2017. I pull a cover, like a dark-out curtain over my mind to block out the pain.

It was a Saturday night when my sons best friend called my ex-husband to tell him he had Dallas at the University of Utah hospital. He asked if we could come down as he was not sure what else to do. Dallas didn’t want to be there, but his blood alcohol level was .590 when he was admitted. When I arrived, there was a guard outside of his door and he went on alert as soon as a female entered the room, even though I am his Mother. I was tired, this was not the first time I had been in the hospital with my son. It was not the first time I listened to him as he went on a rant one moment and then shift into telling me (for the 9^th, 10^th, 11^th time…) in extreme detail how to machine to one millionth of a millimeter a metal part that will be used in aircraft where precision is imperative. Dallas was a Machinist and also brilliant. Not just smart, but brilliant. Facts fascinated him although he cared very little about politics or world events. Sadness in the world was too much for his empathy. And he hated ignorance and prejudice above all else.

He was especially fired up this evening and we had just gotten him to agree to be admitted so they could keep him until he made it through the DT’s. If you have never been around a person who is coming off a drug you will not understand how dangerous and difficult it is. Alcohol is no exception. Most people I have talked to think it is the heavy drugs that cause hallucinations and run the risk of death. I think alcohol is one of the worst due to this misconception. An alcoholic is an addict.

Dallas suddenly decided he was not going to stay. He is 23 years old and there is nothing we could do to keep him there. He did agree to go home with my then separated husband to Kamas. I knew what was coming and a little guiltily for feeling so, I felt a sense of relief. As we were walking out of the door of the hospital I walked up to my son, who is just over 6’ and hugged him. He leaned his head down and rubbed his cheek against mine and said, “I love you Mom”. I could feel the soft peach fuzz that coated his cheek and smell his warm scent. This memory I never try to block out. This memory I cherish and hold in my heart and think about as much as I can. I wonder though, if there was some part of him that knew the events that were to come. Not on a conscious level but a deeper level. One we will not understand until we move into the next dimension called death.

24 Hours later Brett, my ex-husband drove him home. He wanted to come home. I think because his Dad had not seen some of the things I had, and I was already ‘safe’. I was the one who had went through the waves of emotion, joy, pain, reflection, hatred, tears and anger of a young man trying to fight the monkey on his back. It didn’t matter what Dallas said to me when he was drinking. I love my child with every fiber of my being, and It wasn’t my son anyway. It is a vile dragon that changes the way the brain functions. It is the darkness that descends upon an already vulnerable young man in a messed up, cruel world. Yet, even when the dragon was swallowing him whole, he was still compassionate and tender. You could see his pain in his eyes. He had such beautiful big brown eyes. And even when they were losing their light, they looked upon me with love. Yes, he came home and brought his .22 rifle with him.