†Ethan's House†
Our Angel.....
Ethan Joseph
October 3, 1990 to September 10, 1993
Ethan was our first born son; a joyous child that made our lives more exciting then we could have ever imagined. He loved to mow the lawn, wash dishes, eat spagetti and hard boiled eggs!! Ethan's curly head could be seen down the block as he rode in his little car up and down the sidewalk, or played ball with his dad and Uncle Ron.
Ethan died suddenly of a fatal disease called Meningicoccal Meningitis. Striking without warning, mimicing the flu, this insidious killer takes life after life each year. Characterized by headache, vomiting, fever, sometimes a stiff neck and sore muscles, it is only diagnosible with blood work and a spinal tap. Ethan died in pain; he died convulsing; he died frothing at the mouth; he died with his hands and feet curling in and turning purple as his body bucked from seziures while his brain, having swelled beyond the capacity of his skull, with no where else to go, exploded into his spinal column, shutting off all blood supply to his brain, making him brain dead in seconds.
After a nightmare 3 years of what I thought was me going bananas, I finally began to connect with other bereaved parents, and to learn my emotions, and my feelings, were common; that it was okay to grieve MY way; that I didn't have to "get over it", cause that simply cannot be done.
Holidays are difficult. We try to hide our grieving from our living children, so as not to infringe upon their natural enjoyment of favorite days. However, Ethan is and always will be part of our family. His name is spoken daily by my living children; "Ethan would have liked that" or "Ethan used to do this too" or "That was Ethan's blanket", is heard often. Ethan's death did not suddenly remove him from the world and our lives; His spirit lives on in our children and in our hearts. Although we walk with chronic sorrow as a daily companion, and our souls no longer fit us, we have the comfort of knowing that Ethan's brothers will always know him; they are not afraid to say his name, to speak of him with a smile or a question. They take for granted that they have a brother who is an angel...
My advice to bereaved parents is this. When the point comes that you feel you must do something or go crazy, then DO something. Physical work can help some of the worst of the physical symptoms we endure; fatigue, lack of drive, lack of sexual desire, anger, frustration. Do not let anyone tell you how long to grieve, or make you feel uncomfortable for saying your child's name. They are OUR CHILDREN; living or dead, and we have the right and the honor to speak of them when we choose; people will either undertstand, or they won't! Never miss a chance to educate nonbereaved on what to do to help bereaved of any loss type; you do not know when kind direction and information may benefit another bereaved by your speaking out ! Above all; remember your children with a glad heart; YOU are that child's parents, no one else; the joy of carrying that child, or bearing that child, or watching that child grow for however long is something no one can take away from you; those memories are priceless.
Copyright 1997-2000 Ethans House,
Inc.
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