It's in the Memories

By MARIE DONOVAN

ITS IN THE MEMORIES



In the fall of 2002 our life took a strange twist. We had no way of knowing what was coming or how devastating it would be. In September 2002 we had the world on a string and all seemed to be moving fantastically well.



Then along comes mid September and it all starts its spin out of control. I have tried very hard to put our entire journey with its exhilarating ups and its savage downs into perspective.



I thought of all the things I had retained through the years that should help guide you through the storm:


Tomorrows another day

Things can only get better

God never gives you more than you can bear

There is always the calm after the storm

The future will be brighter

Everything is for a reason



But none of those clichs would help us distance our heartbreak or calm our fraying nerves.



Trouble came in the form of troubles at the office. I was put on warning for something I did not do. This was startling to me because in all my years I was never ever put on warning. But that would be nothing compared to what would happen next. In November there would be an accident that would take one of our family members lives and leave in its wake a family that could not put the pieces back together of our broken dreams.



Shortly after our familys loss I would be stunned at the death of a close friend and coworker. His senseless death along with Matthews only etched the pain Santa and I were feeling even deeper.



Our family had gotten exceptionally close after my mother died in 1998 by spending our good times together. Easters, Thanksgivings, Christmas and New Years were celebrated at my cousin Ward and

Cindys home. With their son Matthew getting killed we would now be left shredded, emotionally bankrupt and in search of shelter.



The thought that there was more to come never entered our beleaguered minds. The New Year came in quietly skulking its way into our realization. But 2003 was less than two weeks old when Death would pay us another visit. Our son who had just turned 30 in December was killed on January 12th 2003 when his truck left the road and hit a tree on his way home.



It would take every ounce of our faith to pull through such a cataclysmic loss. Without the thoughts, gestures, and strong shoulders of our friends and family we never would have made it.



In the following months we would deal with many unexpected
feelings and occurrences. I have tried to relate these last 2 years
in a way that makes sense but also will be hopefully a help to others. Here we are two years later, without Matthew, without Damien, without Michael; and as of April without a job. Our families still lie torn and in torment. Santa and I are still standing and not only that; we are standing strong. Santa and I are closer now than ever. Events have changed our attitudes, our way of thinking, our way of trusting and as a result our way of living.



My faith in God has been made stronger. My faith in angels and
the hereafter has deepened. My focus is directed to Michael Delaney Jr., Keirsten Farley and Billie Marie Krauss; our three grandchildren. What is past is past but what we make of the future is totally up to us. I want these children to find comfort, stability and pride in the way Santa and I have carried on. I have no doubt that Michael is with Santa and I each and every day. We take comfort in his presence and know he would be satisfied at the way we have chosen to carry on and how we have chosen to remember him.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Nov 10, 2004
• ISBN: 9781469109855

MARIE DONOVAN

To award-winning author Marie Donovan, writing romance is a dream come true after so many years of avid reading. She got her fill of tragedies and unhappy endings by majoring in opera/vocal performance and Spanish literature. During those years of singing about operatic heroines who inevitably met bad ends, and reading about political prisons and horrible civil wars, she devoured romances whenever she could. Her first attempt at romance fiction was a gothic-type short contemporary where the teenage heroine actually ran into the dark and stormy night to escape her abusive father. That manuscript currently lurks in the depths of her hard drive, waiting to be cannibalized for a future book. After taking off several years from writing fiction, Marie won a bookstore gift certificate and took it as a sign to get started writing romance again. She promptly ordered several how-to books on writing romance novels and read them until they were dog-eared. Fortunately, as she smartened up about writing romances, so did her heroines. Harlequin's wonderful Blaze line inspired her to try her hand at sensual romance. Her manuscript won several Romance Writers of America chapter contests and sold to the Blaze series in January 2005. Marie has worked for a large suburban public library district for the past eight years as both a cataloguer and a bilingual Spanish storytime presenter. She graduated magna cum laude with two bachelor degrees from a Midwestern liberal arts university and speaks six languages. When not writing, she enjoys reading, gardening and yoga. Marie loves to hear from her readers. To find out more about her smart, sexy, stirring romances, please email her at [e-mail]

Book preview

It’s In The

Memories

Written with Love, By

Marie Donovan

Copyright © 2004 by Marie Donovan.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

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Contents

PREFACE

NOTIFICATION OF MICHAEL’S DEATH

This book is dedicated to my soul mate and my love William Santa Donovan. Without his steadfast strength I wonder how well we would have made it through this period of our lives. It is also dedicated to our beautiful daughter Nancy Ellen who has struggled with us through these days after. It is her earnest and heart wrenching writings that have helped us reason through the convoluted maze of sadness, pride, joy, hopelessness and fear.

It is for every mother or father who has lost a child, every brother or sister who has lost a sibling and every child who has lost a parent. As children we are presented with ‘forever’ and we foolishly believe our happiness is unending. As we progress through our life we come to many roadblocks on our designed path. It is what we can draw from each of life’s experiences that makes us who we are today and who we will become tomorrow.

With the passage of time the realization that no matter how intricately we plan something there is always the what if factor that can change our course slightly or drastically. No one sets out to be a failure; we all have the desires and challenges that we hopefully put to good use on our fanciful journey to growing old.

Please see my other books:

Somewhere Within Our Mind dedicated to my daughter

Nancy

They can be found at Xlibris.com or you can order at 888795-4276 ext 276

PREFACE

This book begins with the end of my son’s life. Before I take you thru our journey of coping, grieving and accepting the death of someone we loved so dearly I want you to understand how this has been a much faceted journey. The tears, the stories, the laughs, all melt together to help us make it through. My hope is that you will find the bread crumbs of life strewn along the path of our recovery that will help you make it through such devastating news and events.

I am thankful for every person, every phone call, every flower, every single gesture of caring. Friends would appear at our door in tears with their arms wide open. They brought food, love, remembrances and most of all, their memories all through the week following Michael’s death. I have attempted to take the love shown us and make it our foundation for the future. It was each caring person that helped us navigate through the oft times tumultuous trip that I want to thank. People think that when something like this happens that their call or their visit won’t matter that much in the whole scheme of things; but that is so very wrong. Without all the beautiful people I don’t know how well we would have functioned. They certainly made the way less painful.

To lose a child, even one who had just turned 30 years old, is to feel your entire world spinning out of control. There is nothing that can be said or done that will help you through the realization process. How can it be that at 54 years old the son who had been with me more than half of my life was gone? There has to be a way to make it through the emotional tornado that occurs. Other parents before us have had these things happen and they seemed to have survived. Too many parents have had far worst things happen to their children. I thought back to when my mother lost her oldest son, Michael. I replayed every thing I could remember about that experience over ten years ago. I had lost several people in my life but none of those would turn my world around so completely as losing my only son.

Please join me on this journey and understand what it is like to try to hold onto your sanity, emotional health, physical health and spiritual health all the while feeling like you have reached the end of the world.

NOTIFICATION OF MICHAEL’S DEATH

My son, Michael Delaney Donovan died very late in the night on January 12th, 2003. It was shortly after midnight that the knock at the back door caused our dog, Angus to stir. I went to the back door and found a state police officer waiting there along with a lady dressed in business casual clothing.

As I opened the door I already knew what they had come to tell me. I had awakened about an hour before this to go to the bathroom. As I went to get back in bed I felt my heart racing. As it pounded heavily I remember thinking, my God, what is wrong? Am I having a heart attack? At the time I had tried taking deep breaths so my heart would slow down. I truly believe now it was Michael and he had come to say goodbye.

Now as they entered my kitchen they asked if I was alone. I advised them that my husband was in the bedroom. At this point they asked that he join us in the living room. We all went into the living room, the Christmas tree was still up, and I remember Michael fussing with me to take it down. I had promised him it would be down before he came back from West Virginia. He was getting ready to make his first trip back since his motorcycle accident.

Now I sat on my living room sofa looking at the lady who would tell me my worst fears were true. The officer stood very stiffly in front of my Christmas tree with his hands clasped together in front of him. The officer was scanning my living room as we listened to the lady who said, Mrs. Donovan, I regret to inform you that your son Michael Donovan passed away a short time ago from a vehicular accident. I remember her looking at me very sympathetically. As what she had said registered I drew a deep breath and broke down crying. The news hit me like a ton of bricks. Surely there must be some mistake; Michael must have lent his truck to someone. In the back of my mind I recall realizing that I would never see my precious baby again. I felt like all of the oxygen had been sucked out of the room. It’s like, you know what the scripting says and you are somehow playing the part in this wretched scene; but it is not really happening. All parents fear the loss of a child. Somewhere in the closet oftheir mind they keep that fear locked up tight and pray to God that they will never have to unlock the door to the emotions and heartache that accompany losing a child. My husband moved from his chair to come and sit down next to me, holding me and trying to comfort me even though I knew his heart was breaking also.

The lady asked me if there was anyone she could call for me, I thought of my cousin Cindy Jenkins. But I said, No, I have my husband. She gave me the investigating officer’s names and phone numbers. She also gave me her card in case we felt the need to talk with someone. The officer spoke up to say we believe alcohol was involved. He then asked if Michael had had anything troubling him to which I replied, he was in a motorcycle accident a couple of months ago on Basin Road. His cousin was killed as a result. The officer then replied very callously yes, I know, I was there at that scene, also and I recognized him. I would find out later that this officer was one of the very first to respond.

How could someone be so very hurtful at a time like this? What was his objective with such a cold statement? I was told later that the officer was new to the force. I remember thinking; maybe he shouldn’t be accompanying the bearer with the bad news since he only made everything even more painful. I would make a mental note to find out what his name was so I could follow up on that. I fully intended to make a complaint about his attitude and coldhearted comments to his superiors. He may just have just as well stabbed me in the heart.

As they left our home my husband and I returned to the living room dumbfounded. I remember thinking okay, now what do we do? I called our daughter’s house and spoke with my son-in-law Willie. I explained to him all that I knew at that point. Michael was on his way home from a friend’s house where they had been watching the football playoffs. The witnesses said his truck had just drifted across the road, up over the curb and went down the embankment. The truck impacted against a tree right on the driver’s door. From what they had told us they felt he was killed instantly. I would later speak with the coroner who would confirm this.

Throughout this book I will take a moment to reminisce about the joy and adventure that was Michael. I have sectioned each one out so you will know when I am taking a short side trip down memory lane. It is my intention to relate who Michael was and how his absence in our lives has affected us. We miss him terribly but feel his presence often.

************** REMEMBERING **************

It was just the day before that I had gone shopping with my girlfriend Detta. We were at the Riverfront and I had bought a new blouse that was black with very beautiful red roses. I, of course, did not know it then but I would be wearing this blouse for Michael’s services one week later. When I had left the house Santa was cooking Manwhich so we could have quick sandwiches and be free to watch the football games without interruption. On the way home I called the house to see if Santa wanted me to pick up rolls. I said, Hi honey, we’re on our way home; do you want me to get rolls? The person on the other end said, For what? The manwhich, I replied. I didn’t make any manwhich was the reply. As the conversation continued I realized that I was talking to Michael instead of Santa. He was so tickled he had fooled me. I cannot tell you how many times he had attempted to be his father and how very many times he had succeeded. He could sound just like him when he wanted to. Of course I assured him it was only because I was on Detta’s cell phone. I remember vividly how as soon as we got home I had excitedly brought Michael into the dining room to show him the statue I had bought of Santa Claus sitting on a park bench with a Cardinal on his hand … Michael remarked how I had gotten a Santa and a Cardinal all in one. He knew my favorite bird was the Cardinal.

We discussed the upcoming playoffs in football that would be televised that evening. I told Michael and his friend Georgie who I had chosen to win the football games. Georgie had bet on the other teams. Late that night Michael had called home saying he was staying overnight at Georgie’s house. He laughed as he said I know you’re happy aren’t you? I enthusiastically answered, I sure am! Tell Georgie I said sorry. Both of Georgie’s teams had lost.

************** REMEMBERING **************

Tommy and the Football games

Years ago when Michael was about 13 or 14 I used to make