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Categories: pool, yard, park
It was the morning of January, 13th, 2011 when my Timothy held me for the last time. I woke up startled and I felt a surge go through my body. Immediately I started feeling an energy which prompted me to get out of bed and start cleaning our motel room. We were survivors of a flood which began December 22nd, 2010, and because of this we became displaced from our home and had to stay at the Sunset Inn, of Victorville, California for approximately one month. Several articles were written about our family and what happened to us in the daily press the local newspaper of the high desert in California.
That morning it was late and I touched the body of my loved one. He was still warm and breathing. By that afternoon my son startled me. He exclaimed in terror, ''I think Tim's not breathing. '' By this time I touched his body and he began to become cold. Shocked, immediately I called the 911 operator who instructed me to begin CPR. I tried to save him, but it was too late. I didn't want to believe that he was dead, but he was, and I kept doing chest compressions for what seemed to be like hours but was only minutes until the paramedics arrived. The police soon arrived after, questioning me about what happened.
On the window sill lay a bottle of vicodin with too many missing for a three day period.|
I showed the police and said I suspected he may have taken too many.
The local coroner, the police, and his family in my mind acted, cold as his body, and unfeeling to his now mortal state, but I'm here to say he was somebody to me, and I can't deny I felt more than grief at his loss. My family worried about me at this time and how was I handling this. The truth is: I wasn't. Four days earlier, I lost an aunt to my son in law Daniel. Tim died the day of her funeral. I lost a 22 year old niece too most prior in a tragic accident in northern Virginia. A close friend died of an overdose at the same time as my niece Allison. Another Aunt to my grandson Miles passed away.
Over the next few months and most particularly the week Timothy died strange occurrences began to happen. However, I'd like to mention, two more deaths in the family occurred. A step-brother and Uncle to my children were both murdered in more tragedy. At this time in my life I began to feel myself slipping away and nearly died several times. All in a period of four months, it was too much! The doctors gave me medications to help, No medicine, no person, not even God himself could take the anguish from me. I was soon headed for a nervous breakdown by the following November. I spent several days in the hospital contemplating why I was still alive. What purpose did God have for me? I believed he had work for me but I didn't know at the time what it was.
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