"The hardest time in my life was twenty-two years ago when I lost my son. He was 18 years old and the victim of a drive-by shooting. I got the phone call from a relative he'd gone to visit, but I couldn't understand what was being said. They kept telling me, 'You gotta come, your baby's been killed!' I said, 'Come where? Who is this? My baby's right here, he's coming up the stairs.' I was talking about my nine-year-old. But then this relative used my nickname and I realized who it was and what they were telling me. I started screaming and screaming, and I couldn't stop. My baby was gone. He was gone. I couldn't believe it.
"All kinds of people tried to comfort me, but there was nothing anybody could do or say. The thing that meant the most during that time was when my best friend came by with her 16-year-old son. He didn't say a word. He just took me by the hand, led me to the couch, put my head on his shoulder, and patted me. I'll never forget that.
"For a long, long time after the funeral, I didn't want to open my eyes when I woke up in the mornings because then I would know that it was real, that it had really happened. I grieved so much. Even now, all these years later, it's still hard to look at a picture of him for very long. I imagine what he would look like now, what he would be doing. People said it would get better over time, and it has, but it will never be the same. I've had to learn how to live in a different way. God's the one who got me through it all. I couldn't have made it without him.
"Sometimes when I'm driving, I'll come to a stop light and look over and see somebody crying in next car. I remember when that was me, during the worst part of the grief over my son. I'd be sitting at a traffic light and people would be honking their horn at me to go, but I couldn't move. I couldn't do anything. I try to be understanding and patient because you never know what another person's tears are for. When I see someone crying, I just stop right then and there and pray for them."
"All kinds of people tried to comfort me, but there was nothing anybody could do or say. The thing that meant the most during that time was when my best friend came by with her 16-year-old son. He didn't say a word. He just took me by the hand, led me to the couch, put my head on his shoulder, and patted me. I'll never forget that.
"For a long, long time after the funeral, I didn't want to open my eyes when I woke up in the mornings because then I would know that it was real, that it had really happened. I grieved so much. Even now, all these years later, it's still hard to look at a picture of him for very long. I imagine what he would look like now, what he would be doing. People said it would get better over time, and it has, but it will never be the same. I've had to learn how to live in a different way. God's the one who got me through it all. I couldn't have made it without him.
"Sometimes when I'm driving, I'll come to a stop light and look over and see somebody crying in next car. I remember when that was me, during the worst part of the grief over my son. I'd be sitting at a traffic light and people would be honking their horn at me to go, but I couldn't move. I couldn't do anything. I try to be understanding and patient because you never know what another person's tears are for. When I see someone crying, I just stop right then and there and pray for them."
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