Dylan, my only, my love, and my life.
by Cynthia L. Graham
(Newport News, Virginia)
My Dylan was 27 years old when he died March 21st, 2011. The shock of his passing still hasn't left me. One day, my son was happy and healthy, and three days later I'm watching him die from a ruptured appendix. He was horribly misdiagnosed by the clinic where I took him, and then sent home where he ruptured and subsequently died. It has all been like a nightmare that I can't awaken from. People just don't die this way anymore (one in a million)!!! I just keep asking myself why my beautiful only child; what did I do to deserve such a fate. Dylan was so wonderful, and I am not idealizing my son, he truly was. He was kind, gentle, generous, funny, and so smart. Above all he was my friend, and he loved me. Dylan was a late bloomer in life, because he was an only child and raised by a single parent. He never experienced many things that a man his age would typically know; the love of a woman, children, a career, but I knew that one day he would come out of his shell. He was starting to, and oh I was so proud that he was finally becoming all that I knew he could be! My purpose in writing here is to let the world know what a rare and exquisite soul has left us. He was an innocent but that is what made him so well loved by all who knew him. I could become so bitter, but I would not honor my son's life by doing so. Instead I am bravely reaching out to conquer this raging grief by taking a hold of God's hand. He has led me to my support group, where I find the love I so desperately need. I hurt immeasurably sometimes, and there will always be a chasm that I cannot cross over, but turning my grief into remembrance is the key to my eventual peace. Pray for me.