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By Gloria Faye Brown Bates


I am sitting here at my desk, looking out the window of my mind.  I don't see anything, yet... I know that whatever I want to see ... is there.


I do see something now... it's another tall, big, blonde muscular guy, who reminds me of Tommy, my son.  I see him off in the distance moving around working on his big truck, doing maintenance on it.  I bring my mind back from my mental window ... back to here... inside.


My prayers are for this big guy, another mother's son, to get through this crisis he is in.  I know deep down this son's mother is all to pieces.  She loves the ground her son walks on.  So, did I..... I'm knowing how she feels but, there's a difference.


Most likely her son is going to live... so many prayers are going his way at this very moment.  Alot of those prayers are mine.  I want him to live for this mother with my heart.  I don't want her to experience what I've experienced for the past 2 1/2 years.  I don't think she is strong enough. 


Everyone knows I'm strong enough.... haven't I been through death after death with my loved ones?  Haven't I been through being diagnosed with cancer, and all that entailed? 


Didn't I survive within that time-frame my own husband being diagnosed with colon cancer while he was caretaker to me?  I became caretaker for him... we didn't have a family support/network.  Didn't our house/home burned down destroying everything we had?


I think of this mother and how so innocent of death she is... she isn't used to such things happening in her life.  She is just getting the scare of her life... I feel she is going to get another chance with her son... with my heart I pray that.  She will thank God with her heart for saving him.


Her son was at a company, getting ready to leave after loading his big truck.  He began experiencing pain in his chest, became short-winded, couldn't breathe.  They called the rescue people to come help him.  They took him to the nearest hospital.


Both mother and father were on the way... that's the last I heard.  I did hear that they were all to pieces, this son's mother was crying and screaming.  I felt that last word 'screaming' with my very heart.  I know how it feels... I'm a mother whose son didn't come back... he died.  He couldn't be saved, when he collapsed... he never got up on his own again.


I'm crying now... my mind 'screams' inside.  I know how death of a child feels.  I pray that this mother will never have to know in her lifetime how it feels.  Like I said... I don't think she's strong enough to go through that.


The son's father... oh my... just think of the anguish the mother is going through... this father worships his son.  This son has grown up to be almost a replica of his father... they are as close as close can be.  My heart feels for him... because I know that lately he's been worrying about his son.


His son is 30 years old... so young, so much life ahead of him.  He has a little 3 year old daughter ... and a baby on the way.  I pray these children will know their father... I pray this son will live.  Little Taban, McKenzie will only have memories of their father, my son... he died at age 40.  Taban was 3 years old, McKenzie was 10 years old.


Yesterday evening when Skip handed me Tommy's jacket that I wear sometimes for comfort, for warmth... it triggered the deep grief I carry in my heart for my son.  All I wanted to do last night was to get into bed, snuggle tightly under my blankets, get warm... go to sleep to rest my tormented mind.


I did just that... I woke up feeling better.  I was amazed that it looked like I would be just fine... for the first time.  Normally... it takes days to get past such a 'Tommy Time'... the grief weakens me. 


When I heard about this... this son... it affected me very much.  All I can think of is what's happening at this very moment... is he going to be alright?  My mind is constantly saying prayers for him, his parents.


Please Lord... let this son be alright.

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