There are days when I simply dwell on the moment two officers stepped inside my home and said "I'm afraid we have bad news."
I just sit and think of that exact time over and over.
Hours passed in those 5 or 6 seconds.
I lost every family member in my life and tried to decide how to respond in those moments.
I moved thru each one with decisiveness and thought of the next steps after they said a name.
And yet I waited.
I waited what felt like an entire lifetime.
My soul screamed violently.
"JUST FUCKING SAY IT"
but even that took a lifetime.
"Do you know Josiah Brooks?"
Oh God.
"That's our son" my husband replied instantly. He understood how long those moments were.
I was dialed in on the officer's black shiny shoes. I could not take my eyes off of them. I felt myself leave my body.
"You can't be here for this"
I felt it more than heard it.
Don't say it.
I don't want to hear this.
"We're sorry to tell you he's passed away."
Ever so often, I relive this moment over and over. I examine it from every angle.
I look at it.
Sometimes, I cry. Uncontrolled. Other times, I just stare at it. Like I did with those black shiny shoes. I just stare.
Another 100 hours pass before we can ask.
"What happened?"
I spend a lot of time with this moment.
A lot.
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