Drew's Peace

Free Preview By nightfall, I was exhausted and had nothing left to give to others. Every night for weeks, I would lie in my husband’s arms and cry for the child who I had lost and for all the beautiful dreams I had woven around him. I missed him desperately, his beautiful smile, his infectious laugh, his big Drew bear hugs, the kisses on the top of my head, and his declarations of “I love you, Mom.” There was no outrunning the grief. It was overwhelming, like a living monster, stalking to gobble you whole from the inside out and steal your breath. During those long nights, I would wonder what really happened that night in the car accident. I would replay every possible scenario as if on a loop tape and what I could have done differently. I began to question my religious beliefs and wonder if my son truly made it to heaven with God or if it even existed. I knew that he had doubts about the existence of heaven and God while alive, even though he attended Catholic schools his whole life. He would often say that he felt man had made up most rules in the religion. What if he was lost and couldn’t find his way to heaven? A new low of depression and anxiety set into my soul. I remember sitting on the edge of my bed one day, alone. It was the middle of the afternoon, and the house was quiet. The quiet moments were the hardest. Keeping busy seemed to be my saving grace as it kept my mind from spinning into desperate thoughts. When I had moments alone in that first month, I pictured Drew lost as a soul, floundering in between worlds and looking for the light of God. I began to think maybe I could go to him in death and help him to heaven if he was stuck, give him a push into the light, even if my soul was lost in the process. I would give my life for any one of my children, in a heartbeat, without thinking twice. After all, my husband would look out for my other three much-loved children, but who would look out for Drew? I sobbed on the edge of the bed in despair that day, completely lost in my sorrow. Then, the unimaginable happened. My phone, nestled in my hand, began to spin through contacts by itself. I sat in awe wondering what was happening. The phone stopped on my best friend’s name, and it was as if someone else pushed the call button. I heard her voice before I even put the phone to my ear, “Honey? Are you okay?” Something told me to confide in her my deepest desire to help my son. She talked me through my desperate thoughts that day, telling me that Drew was safe in heaven, and I was needed here for my husband and my other children. She told me that this life is a gift and only God can decide when it is my time. I have no idea who pushed the call button that day. Was it Drew, God or maybe my guardian angel? I did know deep in my soul that my friend was right. It was not my time, and it was God’s way of saying Drew is okay and that I must live. God used my best friend to reach me when I needed it the most. Strange how moments of grace can happen when we least expect them.