It was Oct. 22, 2004, and I thank God that it still wasn’t one hundred degrees. No Indian summer this year. As I unlocked the door, I yelled Mitch’s name but there was no answer. I was angry because I hadn’t talked to him in two days. It was completely dark in our small one bedroom apartment. No lights were on and the blinds were all closed; he knew I hated having all the blinds closed. That was just one more thing to be angry with him about. As I went into the bedroom and turned on the light, my heart stopped. . . I have a very strong belief that God has a reason for everything that happens, good and bad.
I worked out of town a few days a week, so that left my boyfriend, Mitch, at home. He had a seizure disorder and I had found his body in our bed. I was no longer angry, instead I was hysterical and in shock. I now knew the terrible reason why I hadn’t talked to him in two days. He had had a seizure and died while I was away. I remember running to my neighbors and babbling on about that I couldn’t wake Mitch up, could they please try? Next thing I know someone’s yelling to call 911, Mitch was as cold as ice. In a blur I watched firemen, paramedics and policemen come in. The neighbors made me stay in the living room. One fireman came in, looked at me and just shook his head. I remember saying “I’m going to be sick!” and pushed by to run to the bathroom. The neighbors took me to their house because they didn’t want me in the house alone. I called my mom and I thank God she was in town working, because she came right away. I just couldn’t seem to stop crying. The paramedics took Mitch’s body away. My mom packed up some things for me, because I could not go back in that house, much less do anything except cry uncontrollably, and took me to my sisters. My sister, Ashley, took me upstairs and put me in a hot bath. I remember very clearly that I was crying and apologizing to Mitch over and over. I should have been there for him. I had sat through seizures with him before. All of a sudden there was a pop and the lights went out. I went downstairs, told my sister and her husband went to check the breakers; it had tripped. My sister and I honestly believed it was Mitch telling me to shut up, that it wasn’t my fault. That isn’t the only time that I have felt Mitch around.
In the first two weeks after Mitch died, my family and friends came to cook, do chores and just sit with me. I appreciated it, but I wanted to be alone and I felt like such a loser because I didn’t do anything except sit there and cry. The weather seemed to agree with me, because it decided to storm for a few days. It just poured and poured and it felt as if all my tears that were pouring down on the world. Everyone told me it was good that I was crying, but over time, I got angrier and angrier with God. How could He let the man I loved, who was only thirty-two, die? The man I was going to marry and have kids with? I even went to counseling, but I was still so angry.
The best counseling I got was from my friend Beau. Some people didn’t understand, but he gave me something physical that I desperately needed at that time. Everyone deals with grief differently. About a month later I hadn’t started my monthly cycle. That was just another reason to be angry with God. I was pregnant and I asked myself and God, how could this happen? Beau and I had been so careful. Then it dawned on me. God had taken away the man I loved then turned around and gave me this gift. I was no longer angry with Him.
So, four and a half years later, I have Kaiya, this beautiful three and a half year old angel. She is the reason I snapped out of my grief. She brought joy back into my life and gave me a reason to want to live and to move on. Four and a half years later, I still love and miss Mitch and every once in a while I can feel him. I truly believe with all my heart that there is a reason for everything God does. Sometimes it just takes a while to figure out why. That is if you ever do.
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