We Were Living Every Parent's Nightmare... in Understanding the Unthinkable

…and couldn’t wake up. We had to identify Nick’s body, and his girlfriend) and our eldest son came, too. I blessed his body and touched his face. The grief was overwhelming, but I focused on details.

The viewing was held for 2 hours before the funeral. The first hour was family, then the public viewing began. So many ex-girlfriends sobbing into their Kleenex! (Oh, and I’ve become a bit of an expert on tissue. The funeral home’s tissue was the worst. It was like blowing your nose on burlap. You’d think for ten grand they could spring for name brand tissue.) A lot of Nick’s high school buddies turned out, as well as college pals. The parents who’ve lost a child were there, as I was there for them when their child died. We’re the ones with a haunted look in our eyes. A club I never wanted to join!

We began with what I knew Nick would appreciate as a tribute to the former loves in his life, an instrumental version of Willie Nelson’s “To All the Girls I Loved Before”. (I don’t know if anyone but me got the joke, but that’s okay. Nick would have laughed. Now you know a secret that they don’t.)

After that, we did an instrumental of Nick’s favorite childhood hymn “Blessed Assurance”, followed by a video version of “Blessings”, a contemporary Christian song that was a favorite of his, as well. I delivered the eulogy. I wasn’t sure I could, but I was determined to do it perfectly. I didn’t, but it was close enough. Pastor told me afterward that he thought it was brilliant. Others called me strong. It was neither. I was dying inside, not of fear, but because a part of my flesh and blood has died. I still feel it.

I had a bit of trouble in that I turned my head to address the entire crowd (250, I think), and I didn’t know the microphone would only pick up if I was relatively close to it. So I figured out fairly quickly to aim forward, with only a rare turn. Even though I was determined to say what I had to say in a firm, clear voice, I did crack a few times, but I pulled myself together.

Nick’s Eulogy:

So, you tell me. How do we say goodbye to a shooting star? I’m not sure we can, but I’m going to try.

Nick passed away suddenly in Fort Wayne, IN. One minute he was joking and making weekend plans with his beloved cousin, who looked away to make a left hand turn, and when he turned back, Nick had slumped over and ceased breathing. Death came in an instant, without warning. There was no pain involved. While his Dad and I, along with his fiancée and siblings, are incredibly sad, we are grateful that his death was merciful.

Nicholas had big brown eyes and a great big smile. He loved, and I do mean LOVED, the people in his life. He loved to joke and he loved to hug. He would and has taken the shirt off his back to help someone else, and trust me, Nick loved his clothes. It’ll take me a year just to go through them.

Before my children were born, I whispered to God. For [eldest son], I asked for a healthy child, but with Nick, I told God to give me the child who would be overlooked or misunderstood and I didn’t care if that child had flaws, but give me the child who most needed my love and mothering.

Well, be careful what you ask God for, because you WILL get it. Before I continue with Nick, I must acknowledge that I also whispered to God about my third child and I’m sure you’ve already figured out, I asked for an EASY child!

Nick was my risk taker. He wanted to run faster, jump higher, and dive deeper and whatever he dove into, whether it was surfing or boating or playing a game of football with beloved friends, he did with a heart of passion. It did not always work to his advantage. In his childhood, Nick nearly hung himself trying to bungee jump with a bungee cord, broke both arms a week before Christmas, and had numerous scars to testify to his fearless approach to life.

A neighbor once came to the door and suddenly got a horrified look on her face as she was talking to me. “He’s literally climbing the walls,” she cried, pointing at Nick, who was just trying to shimmy up the door jamb. Another friend looked at me in wonder one day, saying, “Connie, I’ve been sitting here watching your family. One kid is going out the back door, another is crying, and the third is running around in his costume, AND the doorbell is ringing with hungry trick or treaters. I’m just sitting here watching and I’m exhausted and you and your husband are acting as if nothing is wrong!”

Well, it wasn’t. Ours was a busy household. There was no time for boredom. Nick loved to bring friends home. I look out and see all of Nick’s friends and remember when they would run through the kitchen, looking for Nicholas, stopping only if cookies were coming out of the oven. Nick thought it was so funny when his friend said, “Mrs. K, your house always smells SO good.” Then he stopped, cocked his head, and said, “You know, Mom, he’s right.” Yes, son, I knew. It’s how I kept you coming back.

And come back, he did. Numerous times. Even though he was not ashamed of being a Mama’s boy, in fact, he’d be the first to announce it, loud and proud, it was not always good for him. But how do you not melt into a puddle with his sad and repentant face when he went too far? I’d tell him to get married and he’d tell me I was his best girl, proving the boy was crazy.

He’d be so pleased to see so many friends in attendance and he’d want me to thank you for coming. He’d want me to tell you that he loved you and he was grateful for the love you had for him. He’s sorry if he caused any hurt and asks you to remember the good times you had together. I can hear him now, “Murph! Dude! It was good talking to you the other day. We’ll get together as soon as I get back.” Courtney, Ryan, Neil, Mike, Brett, Brian, there are too many friends to name you all individually, but know that you meant everything to him.

And then he met [girlfriend] and her daughter and they became an instant family. I hear his voice yet again. “I love her, Mom. I’m going to marry her and we’re going to give you a grandchild.” Nick loved children and [girlfriend’s daughter] was a great influence on him. Nick loved taking her to school and being involved in her life. He was a natural parent.

There was no adjustment. If they needed him, he’d set aside his video game immediately. They came first. He hated being away from them and spoke of them often, right up until the end. They were never far from his thoughts and he kept them close in his heart.

Nick loved his brothers and his sister of the heart, [foster daughter]. He drove them crazy at times, but he also made them laugh. Growing up, they had many adventures together, from tormenting the dog (actually, the dog, being a terrier, loved it) and the neighbor’s girl (she did not love them) to building skateboard ramps and playing Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. He cared about what his siblings thought and was filled with admiration for them. As I go through his belongings, I keep finding small family things he treasured: [foster daughter’s]’s dance program, the business cards he and his older brother designed as children and a note from his younger brother.

Nick looked up to us as his parents and spoke often of us to others, always praising us. He loved to come have dinner with us and he loved watching the ball games with his Dad. Even while in Indiana, he spoke to us almost on a daily basis. He called his dad for advice on a building project just 2 or 3 hours before he died. We knew he loved us and he knew we loved him. He never left the house without saying, “Bye, Mom, I love you.” And then he would draw me under his arm and kiss the top of my head. His last words to his father were “Bye, Dad. I love you.” Nick knew how important love is and would want us as his parents to encourage you to let old resentments and anger wash away. They aren’t important. Stop letting them consume your energy and your time.

He loved his uncles, his aunts and his cousins. Family meant everything to him. He was particularly close to my brother, his wife, and [brother]’s son, and loved his Uncle, Aunt A, and cousin M. He admired his cousin R and never missed an opportunity to see him. He and his cousin S had become quite close while working together over the past two months. Those bonds were precious to him. He would want me to tell all his relatives that he loved them and he’ll say hi to his grandparents for us all.

He ADORED his grandmothers, as well as his grandfather M. It is ironic that the grandfather C who was predeceased before Nicholas was born was the person Nick most resembled. Nicholas even had my Dad’s mannerisms and his broad hands and long fingers. There were times when he’d turn his head quickly and I’d swallow hard, because for a moment, I had my father back. Over the last few years, we’ve had many a conversation with Nick via Skype.

Oftentimes, his dad and I would comment about how much he looked like my deceased youngest brother. His name might’ve been K and he was raised with good values, but he was M blood. My father laughs with delight in Heaven.

I’d like to mention Nick’s schooling and early work history, before he worked for us and S. He worked hard to graduate college and was proud of his [college] diploma. After college, he worked for [major company] and within his first year, was top 3M salesman in the country. His bosses were disappointed when he left. He tried banking briefly, but it did not interest him. He worked a few years at [another place], then came to work for us. Lately, he’d gone north to work with his cousin for a few months.

And that takes us to Nick’s last days on earth. On the Sunday before he died, Nick had asked his Aunt R to take him to church. R, knowing Nick likes to sleep late, warned him that it would be very early. Nick said he didn’t care, and true to his word, he got up and was ready to go. In the car, R explained that since he was not Catholic, he should not take communion, but should cross his arms and the priest would bless him. He nodded his head, but when his turn came, he took communion! R hissed, “You’re gonna get me in trouble!” Nick just smiled and when I heard the story, I smiled, too, because, you see, we’ve taught our boys to seek God in all things and if they just stay focused on that, they won’t go wrong. Nick didn’t let rules separate him from communing with God. Instead, he reached out and took what he needed.

His Dad and I are so very glad he did. Just four short days later, Nick went home to be with the Lord. He NEEDED that communion to cleanse himself and ready himself, even though none of us, including him, knew how much. Know that Nicholas K was at peace. He would want me to encourage you to reach out to God when you feel the need, follow your impulse even if the world tells you that you shouldn’t. Allow yourself to be purified.

At times like these, we search for answers. As a Christian, I’m always taken aback when someone cries angrily to me, “Why did God take my son/daughter/mother/father/best friend?” I have to bite my tongue on my answer which WOULD be, “Hey, don’t blame God!” and that is what I would say to you. And don’t blame Nick, either. We live our lives, perfectly imperfect. I always knew my little boy was mine for just a while and that God would bring him home. His Dad and I just thought we’d already be there, waiting to welcome him, but instead, we now look forward to the day when we will be reunited and once again I will hear his voice, “Hi, Mom! I’m home!”

Last updated September 06, 2015