The Day I Lost You

The Day I Lost You

Warning: Dealing with death of a child.

Mary had always been meticulous when it came to cleaning her house. Every year, she would go through every nook and cranny, making sure that everything was spotless and in its place. It was a habit that had helped her cope with the pain and loss of her son.

Mary had been cleaning out her basement when she stumbled upon a dusty old pager. It was an antique relic of the past, a reminder of the time before smartphones and instant communication.

She hadn't used it in years, but as she held it in her hand, she felt a sudden sense of nostalgia wash over her. She thought she lost that pager a long time ago.

Mary's heart raced as she picked up the pager, her mind flooded with memories of that fateful day.She turned the pager over in her hands, admiring its clunky design and the way it felt in her palm. It had been her son's pager, she remembered.

He had carried it with him everywhere, even when he was playing with his friends at the playground. 

As Mary looked at the pager, she felt a sudden urge to turn it on, to see if it still worked after all these years. She searched through the basement for a charger and finally found one buried in a box of old electronics. She plugged it in and waited as the pager beeped to life, its screen flickering with the familiar green glow of the past.

And then it happened. The pager beeped, and Mary felt her heart stop.

She read the message, tears streaming down her face as she realized what it meant. It was the same message she had received nineteen years ago, the one that had changed her life forever.

"Keith is dead."

Mary's mind raced back to that day, so long ago. She had been at work when the pager went off, and she had felt a sudden sense of dread as she read the message. She had rushed home, hoping that it was all a mistake, that her son was still alive.

But it wasn't a mistake. Her son had died on the operating table, his young life snuffed out by a careless driver who had fled the scene of the accident. Mary had been devastated by the news, unable to process the grief and pain that had consumed her. She had spent months, even years in bed, crying and praying for her son to be alive.

The loss of her son had changed her, leaving her broken and empty inside. She had tried to move on, to find some sense of normalcy and purpose in her life, but it had never been the same. The pain had never gone away. 

And now, all these years later, the pager had brought it all rushing back.

Mary sat on the floor of her basement, clutching the pager in her old, trembling hands as she sobbed uncontrollably. She felt like she was reliving the worst day of her life. 

As she cried, memories kept flooding her mind. His first word echoed in her ears, his first smile, first steps… she could still hear his silly laughter, after all these years. Her memories were so vivid that she struggled to accept the fact that it already passed nineteen years since the last time she had seen him.

Slowly, Mary calmed down, her tears drying up as she breathed deeply. She wiped her eyes and looked into the distance.

"I miss you so much," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. She could imagine her son smiling down at her and hugging her, telling her “It’s alright Mommy,” just like he used to do when he was alive. He was so smart and gentle, his smile so vibrant and contagious. She wished she could see him just one more time.

Mary couldn’t help but fantasize about how he would look now, nineteen years later if he were alive. How would his life be, would he be married, how many children would he have, would they look like him?

Mary's thoughts soon turned to anger and resentment that consumed her whenever she’d remember her son's death. She had been consumed by thoughts of revenge, imagining ways to make the person who had killed her son pay for their crime. She could never understand why it had to be her son dying. That little ten year old boy had the purest soul, and yet his life was taken in such a cruel way. She didn't even have the chance to say her last goodbye, he was already gone when she arrived to the hospital. All she had left, from that day going forward, were memories. And a lot of pain.

But as she looked down at the pager in her hand, Mary realized that holding onto her anger and resentment had only made her feel more isolated and alone. She had pushed away the people who loved her, convinced that her pain was something that she had to bear on her own. That day, not only she lost her son, but she also lost herself. All the things she used to enjoy, lost their appeal. Nothing tasted good, nothing felt enjoyable, and happiness became an unknown verb for her. It was like she was sucked into a black hole that was tearing her inside and out, every single day. 

“Maybe it’s time…”, she sighed as she kept moving the pager nervously, from one hand to another.

She knew that her son was gone, and nothing could bring him back. There was no point holding onto the anger anymore. Nineteen years of these negative feelings took a toll on her life greatly, especially on her health and her marriage. Even though she tried her best to be her old self for the sake of her daughter Susan, such a tragedy had a great impact on her and everyone around her. Nothing was the same, and consequently, the anger kept growing and boiling inside of her. 

Mary was tired. She yearned for peace, and for the first time in her life, she didn’t want to remember how her son had died, she just wanted to remember good things and honor the memories she had of him.

She put the pager down gently and took a deep breath. As she looked out the small window in the basement, watching the sun dip below the horizon. And at that moment, Mary made a decision. She would no longer allow the person who had killed her son to hold power over her life. She would find a way to forgive them, to release the resentment and anger that had held her captive for so long. It won’t be easy, but she would try her best, regardless.

For years, Mary had avoided dealing with her anger. But now, holding the pager in her hand, she realized that that had only made the pain worse. She needed to confront the sadness and resentment she felt, she needed to embrace them and find a way to move forward.

She knew that the pain of losing her son would never fully go away, but she also knew that she was not alone. She had her family, her daughter, and the strength to carry on. Keith would always be a part of her, a part of her family. And he for sure would have loved for her to find peace.

She could imagine his proud face with a content smile, saying “You are doing the right thing, Mommy.”

Her hands were clutched the whole time, and she didn’t even realize it until they started hurting. The tension slowly started leaving her body, and for the first time in nineteen years, Mary felt at peace. 

As Mary walked back into her house, she felt a sense of clarity and purpose. She knew that she needed to embrace her son's memory, keep him alive in her heart, and honor his life by living hers to the fullest.

Mary sat on her front porch, watching the sunset over the horizon, she felt a sense of relief washing over her. 

She was ready to face the world, to find a way to live her life with joy and purpose, to find herself again, and to honor the memory of her son in every way that she could.

And as she looked down at the pager that she kept by her side, she smiled, knowing that it had brought her back to her son in a way that she had never thought possible. The pager that was once a relic of the painful past, now turned to be a reminder of the love and connection that she shared with her son, and a symbol of her being at peace with his death.