I WRITE THIS LETTER IN MEMORY of you, Eric.
I carried you for nine months, loved you, cherished you, and protected you. Even as an adult, you were still my baby, no matter how old or big you may have been. You were still a respectful, intelligent, and devoted son who grew up to be the family’s lawyer and advocate. I miss you greatly.
I still can’t believe that you are gone, gone forever; that’s just not the way it should be.
Eric, you were supposed to bury me. These tears I cry for you should have been yours weeping for your dearly departed mother. It’s just not right. The day you left this earth is one I will never forget. I replay that day in my mind over and over, moment by moment, word for word. It is engraved permanently in my heart; the ache is so deep inside and never goes away.
I hear it mentioned often that “time is supposed to heal your pain,” but if I’m being honest, I hope it will remain. I need to feel you constantly just to get through the day. Your life was stolen. That really wasn’t fair. They took my firstborn, my future, my heir. If only they had asked if I would take your place, I would have done it willingly, leaving you this world to grace. I pray that you are happy. I pray that you are safe. I pray to God each night to wrap you and keep you in his awesome embrace.
My life without you is empty and dark; the light that once shone has gone out in my heart. Sometimes I hear your laughter. Sometimes I hear you crying out for me and I say, “Oh, God, why wasn’t I there for my son?”
Then God answers, “It was not for you to be there that day, Gwen, because they may have had to bury the two of you. Then who would have been left back here to uplift your son Eric’s name? Who would be fighting for justice and to change laws for those who will come after him? Who will continue to say his name if you are not here? So I’m leaving you to fight the good fight and be a blessing to others, so now your pain will have a purpose.”
So, Eric, I am fighting for justice, although if and when it comes it is no justice for you, but for me it will be closure, knowing I tried to do right by you and all the others, the nameless, the faceless, and all those whom the world doesn’t recognize. I still wait for answers. I pray to God for courage and for him to strengthen my faith so I can proceed on this journey. I know I can’t go higher until I’ve been through the fire, so I’m going to take off my shoes and walk on these burning coals. I know God will keep me, as he did the three in the Bible whom they tried to set on fire.
My son, the world knows what you went through; their eyes are open. There is more awareness, more movement because of you. God saw fit for you to become the sacrificial lamb to bring about this uprising. Who would have thought I would have been the vessel that carried you for nine months and everyone in the world would know your name? So, son, I hold this hurt, but it will continue to energize me.
So long for now, but not forever.
Loving you always.