Born for Heaven

Chapter 1
A Parent’s Worst Fear

Friday February 6, 2009, my Dad’s birthday, the streets were still ice and snow covered from the recent snow storms. I took my grandson Christopher to his home school and from there he took a school bus to another school where he attended special needs classes
One hour and a half later three people stood on my front porch and the man with the badge introduced himself as an official from the police department. I recognized the other man as Christopher’s teacher and the other person was the woman in charge of placing Christopher in this special class. They said they needed to come in. I ask if something was wrong with Christopher. Three times they said “we need to come in,” Panic began to well up inside me and never could I have been prepared for what I was about to hear. When they got inside I said “What’s wrong is something wrong with Christopher?” They said “We need to go into the other room.” When they got me near a chair the policeman said “Christopher has been killed by a school bus.” No softening of the message, just a harsh statement. I nearly collapsed and he got me safely to a chair. I cried “Oh no dear God, not my baby, not my Christopher.” His next statement sent an abnormal chill through my body and much of what happened immediately after this is hard to remember. I was numb! It seemed as if my mind and body were shutting down. He informed me that Christopher had not been taken to the hospital but straight to the morgue. This was the final blow. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing; I couldn’t process what he had said. This can’t be happening. This isn’t real. I didn’t even ask what had happened. I sat and sobbed. When they were ready to leave I ask “How could this have happened that a school bus killed him?” No one answered me; I believe they were in shock also. The details had been given to my son and I didn’t want to hear them.
Next I called the church for the prayer line and within minutes every pastor in the church called to offer prayers and comfort all in disbelief at what had happened. I called a student in my Precept Bible class, then a neighbor. My son finished the calls after the police gave him the details. By this time the accident was being reported every hour on the hour on every radio and television program. Later I was told the news went state wide and even later was told many churches in Indiana had prayer for us in their weekend services. The news coverage went on for days but I did not listen or watch TV afraid they might give too many details that I could not handle.
As soon as his name was released by the media it wasn’t long before people started streaming into the house and the phone never stopped ringing. One neighbor whose children were playmates of Christopher was at the pharmacy when she heard his name announced on the television. She left immediately saying “I’ve got to go, I will come back, that’s our Christopher.” She was one of many that rushed to be with me when they heard the news.
Everyone was stunned by the news and there seemed to be no words to convey their feelings so they just cried with me. As the day went on people brought food and flowers and several friends stayed all day with me. Several times through the tears someone would share something about Christopher that would bring a smile to our tear stained faces. This was a comfort and blessing I will never forget. Every person offered spiritual comfort and in the coming weeks many assured me that Christopher’s angel snatched him up so quickly and gave him to Jesus so fast that he did not suffer.
Even though I wasn’t at the scene of the accident I could picture in my mind what happened. The picture of the bus hitting him and running over him is imbedded in my mind and it intrudes unwanted like a bolt of lightning with the same jolting effect as if I had been hit by the bus myself. This comes at unexpected and unusual times and causes me much agony and sadness. I have been abruptly awakened at night with the scene playing in my mind. When I see a school bus on TV or when I am driving in the car and see one the tears start flowing.
Two days before the accident I had made the decision to take Christopher out of this special program. I thought it best to wait until the semester was over and I needed the time to decide what I was going to do with him. There were many choices but in the time since the accident I have thought many times that I hoped my choice would have been home schooling. I have imagined how I could use his love of cooking to help him to exercise his creative bent and teach him about fractions and spelling just from the cooking lessons. I have wondered many times since the accident why I didn’t act sooner and I even feel guilty about not doing so. I also know that I can’t go there; I can’t dwell on “if only.”