Ten years ago today, it was raining in Houston. I remember that day well.
The Ultimate Gift
I never thought about Mason NOT being here. Of course I always knew that anything could happen, but deep in my heart, I thought everything would be fine. We would have our trials and tribulations. We’d spend more time in the hospital. We’d get the kidney transplant (eventually). We’d get the next heart transplant.
Mason faced so many obstacles in his short life. He overcame them all. I was convinced that he was destined for something great. Look at how fast he recovered from the transplant. 7 days. 7 days after transplant, we left the hospital for RMD House. 7 days after that, we went home. We went HOME, 14 days post transplant. Amazing.
For the last several years, Mason has been on minimal medication. His numbers and test scores looked good every time we went in for blood work. He barely even needed the meds at all. Every time we would leave a doctor appointment with a good report, my heart would just soar. Again, I was convinced that he was destined for something great.
But, it was not to be. My thoughts that he would grow up to be something special were trashed. How could someone who was doing so good, just die? In an instant, he was gone.
I am grateful for the time we had with him. I cherish every single day Mason was with us. But that does little to ease the pain. Why did he have to go? What lesson are we to learn from this. There is no fucking silver lining to this situation. What possible good could come from this. None.
Today would be 10 years post transplant. Another shitty anniversary.
They told us that there would be a year of ‘firsts’.
First Easter without Mason
First Vacation without Mason
First Birthday without Mason
First Christmas without Mason
First New Year without Mason
First October 12, 2012 without Mason
I could go on and on.
Today makes 6 months since we buried my little man. Exactly 6 months ago, right now, I’m in the car headed over to the funeral home to tell my best friend, my little shadow, goodbye.
It’s hard to imagine it. Seems like just yesterday, he was here with me. Now it’s been six months since I’ve seen his face. I know it’s weird, but the smell of things in his room have faded. I used to be able to sniff his pillow and pick up his scent. But no more. Everything is fading. The other day, for a brief moment, I couldn’t remember what his voice sounded like. It’s not the first time it’s happened, but it’s scary every time. I panicked. I thought I was going to have a nervous breakdown. Then it came back to me and I was able to regain my composure. What little I have left, anyway.
I sure miss you, son. I Love You, Little Buddy!!!!
I have often wondered what kind of man Mason would have grown to be. Even before he passed, I wondered about it.
My father is a great man. To anybody else, he’s just another man walking down the street. But to me, he is great. I love him more than I could ever tell him or show him.
He (and my mother, of course) raised me up right. Tried to instill good values in me and to always do what was right, even though it was usually harder. I didn’t always do what I should have, but feel like I did alright.
I tried to instill those same values in Mason. I told him from very early on that he had been dealt a bad hand. He was going to have to work harder than the others just to keep up. That’s just the way things are. He was a typical little boy I guess, in the sense that he had that typical little boy attitude. He already knew everything, just as I probably did back in the day, too.
Obviously, since Mason has passed on, we will never know what he would grow up to be. But, after reading an entry from his funeral page, I feel like I was on the right track. It reads as follows:
“My son and Mason were classmates this year. We just learned of the heartbreaking news. I had to pull my son out this week for homeschooling due to harassment from other children. Only Mason was different he says. When no other boy would sit with him at lunch or talk to him Mason was always there. Thank you Mason for being a wonderful friend to my son! God bless your family”
Every time I read that, I get a tear down my eye and a smile on my face. That’s the boy I wanted him to be. That’s my little man.
I feel like the world will miss out on something very special. I know I will.
Yesterday, we have been 6 months without Mason. My God, I don’t know how we have gotten this far.
It seems like it was yesterday I was dropping him off at Nana’s house.
It seems like a thousand years since I’ve seen his goofy smile.
Another shitty memory for this very weekend. Yesterday was the preliminary due date for our 3rd child. I should be home or at the hospital right now holding a brand new baby. Today is not a school day, so Mason should be right there with me. Should be 5 of us. Now it is only 3.
I’m just completely lost. It amazes me that people can just continue on with their lives. Other than just surviving day to day and taking care of my wife and daughter, I don’t know how to pick up and move on.
I have barely survived the past 6 months. How the hell am I supposed to survive the next 30, 40 or 50 years?