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This must be a nightmare and I will soon wake up


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My son, Rohan would have turned 8 today...or was it yesterday.  How could the joy of my life be turned into ashes... Rohan died December 26th, 2008.  My first husband, Rohan's father, died 61/2 years ago from a heart attack that occured while he slept. My husband, Rohan's step-father, my aunt and my older daughter aged 9, had gone cycling on a bike path.  It was a perfect day.  Just absolutely beautiful.  Rohan had a blast out there.  My daughter, son and I pulled up at the stop sign at the pedestrian crossing to wait for traffic to clear so we could get back across to the parking lot where we had left our van.  I gave the go-ahead, and without realizing, Rohan hesitated.  My daughter and I were almost across when we saw the pickup coming towards us.  By the time I got back unto the bike trail and jumped off and turned around, it was just enough time to yell,"stop, don't move" A thud a second later was all that was needed to turn my world upside down.  The driver was an elderly man who had seen my daughter and myself, but not my baby.  His wife, who was also in the truck, had seen him, and thought her hubby had too, until the very last moment when he didn't have time to react.  I just sat in the grass and held him as he   breathed his last.  Strangely I was the one comforting everyone, including the driver.  Even the state troopers who were at the scene came to the funeral.  He was such a sweet, goofy little boy...  One month later and our adoption was approved, so now we have a 4 yr old boy.  Fortunately we had spent time with him before, so we have pics of all four kids together.  That was hard!!  I was (and still am sometimes) so resentful.  I homeschooled the kids, rarely let them out of my sight (I am a nurse)...and my son died while in MY care.  I have my faith in God, and believe nothing happens by accident, but this has brought me to my knees.  I planned to celebrate his 8th birthday but just couldn't bring myself to do it.  Too real?  Too final?  My husband tries, but we've only been married about 3 years, and he just does not understand.  I think he gets frustrated because I am not just snapping out of it.  Occasional days of being down are okay...but extended periods...NOPE.  I get so tired of wearing my mask.  Of being cheerful while inside I just want to die too so I can be with my baby again.  I know I have 3 other kids to live for, but sometimes the pain seems to want to take the very breath from my body.  I look forward to nights because I can sleep and pretend it's all a horrible nightmare.  We are moving, so we have spent all but the first 3 weeks after the accident here at our other house.  It's so hard to go back to our old home (in the states), clean out his room and make it ready for our newly-adopted son.  How dare life continue on its merry way? 

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