It's been a while since I have written anything, but today, I think it may be therapeutic. Cameron Ryder Pless passed away on Thursday. I received a text to call Michael ASAP. I did and was told that the baby was in an ambulance on his way to the hospital. I called Bill and told him to be ready when I got there, I would have him ride with me. Cameron was three months old. Bill called and I don't ever think I will forget the way I felt,at least I pray that I never will, when Bill said he didn't make it. I had to pull over and get myself together and drive to the hospital. Once we got there, it wasn't much better. Cameron's dad was in Indianapolis working and had been notified that his son was going to the hospital, but didn't know he was gone, yet. That is not something you tell someone over the phone, unless you have to. Cory was working in Seymour, how was he going to be told? Notifying people is never easy.
I thought I had cried out all of my tears, yet when I sat down to write, they began flowing again. Sometimes they flow and I don't even realize it. It's like I have been cut to the core, a huge gash, where there is no mending. No amount of thread could sew it up. Today probably won't be as bad, but dear God, be with us all tomorrow. I am over 50 and have dealt with life and death as far back as I can remember, but I have never had to deal with the death of a child, and I hope I never will again. I can't explain it. It is like someone ripped out a huge piece of my heart and there is a gaping hole, a hole that will be there forever.
In some ways, we now know that we are blessed. Blessed to have family and friends that pull together during such horrific times.
