Week One
Well where to begin, My only son is dead...I still have trouble even thinking the words let alone speaking them. He was the best friend I've ever had, he was me and I was him, we were the same and we both knew it.
Its been one day short of a week since I was called by my wife at work and told to come home "now"...she sounded funny as I recall...really funny...she said "stop whatever you are doing and come home now, there are two DPS officers here looking for you". I told my patient I would have to go and drove the five minutes to my home. As I approached I saw the Troopers car in the drive...I knew something was wrong...just didn't know how bad it was...I remember saying to myself, let john be hurt and nothing else, let him........
The troopers were waiting for me in the living room, the male officer said how are you Mr. Cain, I replied "not too good if you are here", the trouper said yes sir I have some bad news....you all know the rest.
I was told that I needed to inform his mother as no one knew how to contact her, so my wife, daughter and I headed to harlingen to let her know...she did not take the news well (who could)...we left harlingen and headed back to McAllen.
The next piece of business was having to go to the funeral home and make arrangements, which I must say is disturbingly simple, its creepy, they ask you questions, make a few phone calls, then lead you into a room filled with cofins and tell you to pick one out..............I still don't know where I found the strength.
Next we had to go to the cemetery on Friday and attempt to find a plot...sounds simple....a plot....where someone will dig a hole and place my son in it forever...God how I ache...will it ever stop.
Friday night was the visitation...so many of my sons friends...I will never get over how many friends he had...I never imagined...what a good boy...
Saturday morning was his funeral....I think it was beautiful...I remember speaking to those gathered but don't remember everything i said. Again so many of his friends were there... I don't feel worthy to have had such a son as this, someone so loved by his peers, I will never be as good a man as he.
Since my sons burial life has been difficult, I cry often, hard and without warning, my pain has only gotten worse, I feel as if someone has cut out a 20 year old piece of me...I feel mutilated...
My only hope is to write my feelings down and pray as much as possible. As a christian I know that God works in all things, but I still want my boy back.
Its been one day short of a week since I was called by my wife at work and told to come home "now"...she sounded funny as I recall...really funny...she said "stop whatever you are doing and come home now, there are two DPS officers here looking for you". I told my patient I would have to go and drove the five minutes to my home. As I approached I saw the Troopers car in the drive...I knew something was wrong...just didn't know how bad it was...I remember saying to myself, let john be hurt and nothing else, let him........
The troopers were waiting for me in the living room, the male officer said how are you Mr. Cain, I replied "not too good if you are here", the trouper said yes sir I have some bad news....you all know the rest.
I was told that I needed to inform his mother as no one knew how to contact her, so my wife, daughter and I headed to harlingen to let her know...she did not take the news well (who could)...we left harlingen and headed back to McAllen.
The next piece of business was having to go to the funeral home and make arrangements, which I must say is disturbingly simple, its creepy, they ask you questions, make a few phone calls, then lead you into a room filled with cofins and tell you to pick one out..............I still don't know where I found the strength.
Next we had to go to the cemetery on Friday and attempt to find a plot...sounds simple....a plot....where someone will dig a hole and place my son in it forever...God how I ache...will it ever stop.
Friday night was the visitation...so many of my sons friends...I will never get over how many friends he had...I never imagined...what a good boy...
Saturday morning was his funeral....I think it was beautiful...I remember speaking to those gathered but don't remember everything i said. Again so many of his friends were there... I don't feel worthy to have had such a son as this, someone so loved by his peers, I will never be as good a man as he.
Since my sons burial life has been difficult, I cry often, hard and without warning, my pain has only gotten worse, I feel as if someone has cut out a 20 year old piece of me...I feel mutilated...
My only hope is to write my feelings down and pray as much as possible. As a christian I know that God works in all things, but I still want my boy back.