This would have been Friday August 28. Friday's were never good days for me anyway. They were just very sad days. Those were the days Taylor was home from school and I would get to talk with him about school or what ever over lunch, then he would be here for dinner, well sometimes. Yes, sometimes I would get more time with him and sometimes, his friends were much more important and fun, so he would not be here all that much on the weekends. Anyway, I had gotten up this morning just trying to survive moment by moment. Sometimes, i would be just compelled to go look at pictures of him, which even made me more depressed. Sometimes i would just take his senior picture and sit in a chair and stare at it and let all the memories flooded back into my mind. Yes, i would shed alot of tears thinking about all the good times--they were so painful, but also then I would find myself thinking about all the time I have lost with him--gone way too young. His book bag is still sitting where he left it. I still have not gotten the strength or courage to move it or even look inside of it. I did decide to boot up his computer to update all the updates, but when it booted up, the first thing I saw was a picture of him on his four wheeler getting ready to race as his back round. I just sat there and stared at it. My heart just ached---just wishing so much, I could turn back the clock and none of this ever happened. Couldn't it just be a bad nightmare and I could wake up.
About 10:30 there was a knock on my door, thinking it was somebody coming to visit---not sure I felt up to visitors, i felt more like just sitting in a chair and weeping. It turned out worse than a visitor, it was one of his roommates from college bring all this stuff back home. I thought, i can't stand one more memory or hard thing to deal with today. I tried to pull myself together as well as I could and went out in the garage to look into his truck where all of Taylor's things were. The thing that caught my eye first was the black college size refrigerator. I remembered so clearly ten months before when we moved him down to college. I had bought this new refrigerator for his dorm room. As he was unloading it off his truck down at school, I wanted to help him, but he wanted to show off his muscles in from of his friends by lifting it out all by himself, so I let him. Well, you can about guess what happened, he did not hold the door shut and it opened up and the shelves all fell out onto the ground. One of them broke. He looked at me with a sheepish little grin and said, Oh, mom I am so sorry, I guess I should have left you help me. That memory flooded my mind--- his cute little smiling face saying how sorry he was that he already broke something on his new refrigerator. I helped his roommate unload his truck with Taylor's stuff. He had all Taylor's books in boxes, his clothes in bags. There was a box of food I had just bought Taylor, stuff he had picked out that he liked. He did not like much, but what he liked I bought a lot of it--like Mac and cheese. This was probably three weeks before the accident. None of us has touched a single piece of this food. I could not wait until this kid left, i felt myself starting to lose control. I felt this emotion of sobbing bubbling close to the surface and knew within minutes I was going to be a puddle of tears on the floor. I was not sure what this kid would have done if I took to sobbing right there in front of him---he didn't look like the type to come and hold me up, more like he would have been extremely uncomfortable and ran to his truck and left. He did finally leave and then I just went into the house and took to sobbing. I thought how will I ever be able to go through his stuff, but knew I could not let it sitting there for long, because it was right in the middle of the garage. After I got myself back under control, I found myself just compelled to go look what he had in his refrigerator----I don't know why, but I just needed to see. I guess, because it was so much him--all his personal stuff. When I opened it up, yes, it was so much Taylor----most of the stuff looked like it has been there since the first day of school. He always was a pack rat---never threw a thing away, I guess that went for food too. But the thing that made my heart stop was the bottle of pepto Bismol. Now, that was really him. That was sort a joke with him. He had allergies to some foods, but it seemed like the ones he was allergic to the most, he liked the most. Like most people, they would have stay away from those foods that would make them so sick, not taylor, he ate them anyway, so that made him and the bottle of pepto best friends. He would even take big gulps of it before he would go out, he would say "just in case I need it". I couldn't help but cry when i held that bottle in my hands, knowing this was probably the last thing he touched in his refrigerator because the rest of the things would have given him food poisoning. One bright thought in the mist of this horror, was well, Tay, you don't need to worry about taking your pepto anymore. I then went over to the boxes where his books were and looked in them. I almost lost my breath when I seen his handwriting---his little scribbles. He had done a project about how to set up a business. As I read it, tears ran down my face, it was all about him and Jeff setting up a mechanical business. Even though, i knew it would most likely never have happened, he had it set up with Jeff and him working together as partners. The kid that brought his stuff home, had let it all out in the rain, so his clothes were all wet. I washed them and hung them out on the clothes line. It was almost more than I could stand to see them blowing in the wind, but for one second or two, it made every thing seem so normal---I have washed his clothes and hung them out a million times, but now my heart ached so badly because i knew this was the last time I would ever do that for him. I don't even know why I washed them, I guess I wanted just one more small thing to feel normal---but actually it was far from normal. I knew I could not stay home, and think about this all day, so I left, even if it was for only alittle while. I spent most of this day in tears---thinking-- Taylor, why did it have to be you, could you not just have been hurt, why did you have to be killed, I don't want you dead, i want you alive and eating dinner with us tonight. I know it had to be people's prayers carrying me this day, because I could not stand on my own. I was only wanting to crumble into a heap in some corner. I knew though, that I could not leave all that stuff in the garage. It was terribly hard on me, and I knew it would be extremely hard on Jeff, but I could not force myself to clean it all up, so I just had to pray really hard to God so He would help me through this terrible big hurdle. I would clean them up tomorrow. When the kids and Jeff came home and seen all his clothes on the line, it was almost more than they could stand, so i got them in and hung up his favorite shirts and T-shirts and put them in the basement on the line. I told Spencer he could wear his other ones, but the ones in the basement, were so much Taylor, that nobody could wear them, at least not right now. The next day, I decided I could not walk by all this stuff out in the garage anymore, it was just too painful. So, I prayed really hard for God's strength, Please help me to be able to do this without sobbing my eyes out. The kids were home from school by this time, so I wanted to keep myself at least partly under control. It is really hard on them when I lose complete control, so knew with God's help I would be able to do this, or at least I hoped so. God did hear my prayer and gave me strength to clean out his refrigerator, but that was all I could do for that day. I only cried a little and that was while I taking out his pepto Bismol bottle, most of the rest of the stuff was thrown quickly away. I brought his school papers and books in the house and put them on the couch. I wanted to go through them, but not today---enough trauma for one day.
As terrible as that day was, later God gave me something to think on. Knowing God and His comfort does not take away the ache in my heart, instead it supports me in the middle of the ache. Until i get home to heaven with Taylor there is going to be an ache that won't quite. I had to think this grieving process for me is not so much trying to get rid of the pain, but not being controlled by the pain. As this week is going to be Thanksgiving. It is going to be the first Thanksgiving without Taylor---The beginning of the Holidays, which they say are very hard the first year. I know at times I will feel like I am drowning in my sorrow, I will feel like my emotions are raining all over the the place, and the winds of daily pressures will be beating against me, but I need to remember God will be right there with me. The verse Phil 4:13 which says "I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me" is one I will need to hang onto with both hands. God will give me his Amazing Grace to get through each day of this Holiday season. I must believe that and trust God's promises.