Four years ago tonight I was in an ICU room finding out that Patrick was probably not going to pull through and survive his injuries.

I was in and out of consciousness at the accident. When I’d wake up, I’d ask where my boys were. I got a couple of different answers. They are working on them, I don’t know, or no one would answer me. I would later find out that Patrick had already been life-flighted from the scene of the accident. Bits and pieces of information were eventually given to me. Bryan was hurt, but okay. He had been admitted to the hospital. I figured Bryan was going to be okay. I had been able to see him at the scene of the accident. He was standing up and talking. I never saw Patrick.

I hadn’t seen Patrick since I had told him how proud I was of him and how well he handled the trip. He had horrible car sickness and car rides over 15 or 20 minutes were difficult for him. Information that I was given about Patrick consisted of Patrick has a broken leg, Patrick is in critical condition, Patrick could possibly be paralyzed.

That evening Rory and the neurosurgeon came in and told me that Patrick had a craniotomy and was being life-flighted to Texas Children’s. I was asking questions and preparing to care for him when we all got home. Rory held my hand; he’s not going to make it. I asked what’s the diagnosis, what percent of surviving are we talking about. I’ve never had a child survive with injuries this severe was the response I received. I’ve never prayed so hard, and I’ve never been so disappointed, crushed, and heartbroken that my prayer went unanswered.

It’s hard to believe that he’s not been here in 4 years. I try so hard to imagine him being 11. I remember Bryan being 11. I think Patrick would be similar, but still different, because they were different. He’d probably be almost as tall or me or maybe already taller. He’d be in that in-between space where he still wants to play and be little, but so ready to be older and not be treated like a little boy anymore. He’d probably stopped rolling his eyes just for fun and would be rolling them for real… He’d still be funny and even smarter than he already was. I could go on imagining because I have no real way of really knowing.

The grief is still very present. “They” say it gets easier or different in time. It has not. In fact, I think this year has been harder. The harsh reality is there. Patrick is dead. Killed. Never coming back. The numbness of everything that has happened ‘to get you through’ the first or second year of loss is gone. Year 4 and It’s just me. It’s just Rory. It’s just a handful of friends that for some reason can still take me however I show up. It’s just a weekly counseling appointment. Year 4 grief is unending. I don’t expect year 5 to be that much different.

We visited his grave today. We ate donuts and kolaches for breakfast. All week we will remember Patrick in some of his favorite ways.

I miss him every day. I still cry every day. A friend that is going through this loss journey asked me recently if I still cry. I assured her that I did. It was relief for her to know she’s not alone and crying every day is still a normal thing. I can’t imagine that there will be a day that I don’t cry for what I’ve lost. Maybe that will happen one day, but right now I can’t imagine that day.

If you knew Patrick, you’ll recognize him in this list immediately. If you didn’t get the chance to meet him, may you get to know him a little better.

Patrick:
1. loved red tennis shoes
2. loved numbers and everything to do with math
3. was learning computer programming
4. was fascinated with space and especially black holes
5. had a beautiful singing voice
6. wanted his own youtube channel
7. enjoyed being read to more than reading on his own
8. never learned to tie his shoes
9. had some signature Patrick dance moves
10. had a big heart and loved you unless you gave him reason not to (he was kind of like his momma on this one)