Daniel's Christmas Letter: Christmas Eve, 2022

 

 

 Dearest Daniel,

I know I haven’t been very available lately. As you know, your brother Matthew passed in his sleep seven days before the fourteenth anniversary of your own departure from Earth. Losing a second son has been difficult, and also very surprising. In some ways, the time of year, was like your passing, but in many other ways it was quite different. You went from being awake and conversant and collapsed and died quite quickly. I was able to try CPR, but I got nowhere. We had trouble reaching EMS on the phone that day, and it took twenty minutes to get someone out to help and to get an AED. This time, Matthew had gone to sleep late the night before and also had been perfectly fine. He passed sometime in his sleep, probably in the early morning hours. With you, we knew right away, but with Matthew, it was likely hours before we knew, because it wasn’t unusual for him to sleep late after being up late the night before. This time, I wasn’t able to try CPR, and the AED we bought to keep here in the house could not be used because Matthew had been dead too long. This time was also different in that when we called for help, the dispatcher answered immediately and a paid EMS crew, no helicopter this time, arrived at the house in what I believe was about four minutes. With you, I was in shock, and I didn’t cry until your body had been taken from the house. With Matthew, I knew too quickly this horror, and I cried immediately. I was less together this time. With you, I felt your spirit was probably hovering above the room and that you needed me to handle everything, and that I might frighten you by descending into tears and hysterics and so I didn’t. With Matthew’s passing, I felt that it had occurred possibly hours ago and that he’d followed you to Papa Lawrence and to God as soon as he could. I felt terrible that I had not known in time to try to save him.

This time was also different in that the medical examiner declined to examine you last time. We procured a private autopsy, which didn’t really give us much other than a cardiac arrest potentially due to a potentially hereditary sudden arrhythmic condition, such as Long QT Syndrome. This time, the politics of sudden death is quite different and the medical examiner claimed jurisdiction. We never did receive a phone call from them and we waited a week through Thanksgiving. Eventually, we transferred Matthew to the same location that did your autopsy. We still don’t have a report, but we surmise from the things said that could be related to the flu shot he had received 38 hours prior to dying in his sleep.

Yes, we are all deeply sorrowful for this turn of events. We also tried to correct the things Matthew had not liked in your Celebration of Life, and had one for him that would have been more to his liking. I believe you both saw what we tried to do there.

Please know that although it is desperately difficult to have half our children beyond our own horizon, we know that you and he accept that we all belong to God and that we return to Him. I don’t know why God chose to call each of you, but I know we will all eventually be together again. Until then, you are both still our sons, and we will see you again. Please know we will continue to do our best with your siblings, your niece and nephews, and your animals, some of whom are still alive from your own time, Daniel.

Please know that we love you, Matthew, and my Dad with all our hearts. You also have your Dad’s parents there, who knew Matt and loved him very much. They both passed before you were born. There are other ancestors there who can also guide you. Please tell Matthew what I have said in this letter, and tell Papa Lawrence also. Matthew’s friends also miss him a great deal.

Merry Christmas Daniel, and everyone. I still remember our last big hug as if it were yesterday.

 

  Love, Mom