The Day Evan Earned His Wings

Part II

The next morning, Noah came into our room and woke us up. Being the fact that Evan was up coughing, I wanted to let him sleep. We all went downstairs to eat breakfast. 8:00 came and Evan was still not up. I was sitting on the couch with a very unsettled feeling. I grabbed Noah and we started up the stairs to Evan's room. We walked into his room calling Evan's name. Evan was sleeping on the top of his bunk bed facing the wall. I said to him, "Evan! It's time to get up!" I knew instantly that something was wrong! I pushed on his little back and felt the coldness through his shirt. I then stepped up on the side of the bed in a panic and saw my precious little boy just laying there. I touched his arm and he was so cold and stiff. His color was very yellow with purple spots all over his face. I began screaming hysterically. I kept telling Evan to wake up and that he had a ballgame to get ready for! In my mind, I thought that Nate would be able to wake him and that this wasn't really happening. Nate came running up the stairs and rushed into Evan's room. I remember pacing back and forth screaming what happened? Nate was yelling over and over "oh God not my son!" Our precious little boy was gone and there was nothing anyone could do to save him. Our lives were shattered!

Nate told me to call 911. I remember making the call, but I have no idea what I told them. The next thing we knew, our house was flooded with cops, pastors, family, friends, and worst of all, the coroner. This was and still is every parents worst nightmare. How could our child just have died in his bed where he is suppose to be the safest? How could this have been our Evan? Experiencing true "shock" is such a terrible feeling. The police officers and coroners were questioning us about fevers, medicine, and whatever else they could think of. We were treated with nothing but respect and compassion the entire time.

I kept thinking that someone was truly going to wake me up from this dreadful nightmare. How could this have happened?? The coroner bent down to me asking about medication and what I gave Evan. Cough medicine and motrin were the only two. I remember asking him who he was. He replied, "honey, I am the coroner." Reality set in! This was very much real and happening to my family. My emotional state turned from shock to complete hysteria. I don't remember much after that, but I remember hyperventilating and seeing everyone's shoes because I couldn't get up off the floor. I also remember screaming at the coroner that Evan needed to eat breakfast before they took him. In times of sheer tragedy, I don't think the mind is capable of working right. And also, Evan was suppose to have a T-ball game, not an autopsy. The mere thought is absolutely horrific! I know that it had to be done, but the thought of that was enough to make anyone crazy.

Usually the scene of the "event" is suppose to be preserved. They were incredibly gracious to us and let our family go back up to his room and say goodbye before taking him. I crawled in his bed and looked at his innocent little face. Tearful and shaking horribly, I told him that I loved him very much and I was so sorry I couldn't save him. I kissed his cold little cheek. Nate talked to him also, but I don't' remember much of what he said. Everyone stood in a circle and prayed. My little boy was being taken away, never to come back and sleep in his own room.

The following days were such a whirlwind! It was like walking through a tornado and everyone was spinning around us. I couldn't even comprehend anything anyone said. We were suppose to be heading to Disney World, and there we were, sitting in a funeral home picking out Evan's casket! Tragedy struck our perfect little family. How were we going to plan a funeral for our 6-year old? More importantly, how do we live the rest of our lives without Evan???