Nearly three years ago, I received a phone call from CPS that forever altered the course of my family’s life. Our five-year-old son had been critically injured by a teenage babysitter.
I fell to my knees and prayed that God would deliver me from this nightmare. Losing my sense of sight and smell and sound, I managed to whisper my husband’s social security number to the social worker so she could get in touch with the Red Cross.
My husband was an E-5 currently serving in Afghanistan with the U.S. Army. Jack was finishing a nearly 10-month long deployment, and all we could talk about was the glorious reunion we would have together with our 4 kids. Tragically, Jack would only come home to 3 children.
I do not remember much in the freefall hours of those first few days learning of Ian’s fatal injury. I remember staying by my son’s bedside telling them that Daddy was coming home, please hold on. Jack embarked on a hallowed and harrowing journey home from Afghanistan to say goodbye to his son – Ian clung violently and soulfully to life until his Daddy reached his hospital bedside.
I do not know how Operation Appreciation came to know of our story – but I remember Beth Waters (a stranger) calling me and asking to help. I don’t remember what I said…but I know that Beth and her organization NEVER gave up on our family! I was a soul unplugged from life and earth – just desperately trying to cling to my sanity and humanity.
I held vigil by my dying son’s bedside, waiting for my husband to return home so that we could release our son to Jesus and His angels. After three days of non-stop flying through international air space and war zones, Jack returned home to our son. He held Ian’s hand, wept, sang, and kissed his forehead. Ian drew his last breath and then died minutes after Jack returned.
Because it was a homicide, the pure chaos and hell that followed those moments render my memory virtually blank. I have so little memory of processing my son’s murder, my husband’s return home from war, and the thought of embarking on this hallowed journey of mourning, loss, and ultimately rebirth.
No family should ever plan their five-year old’s funeral. It subverts the very order of nature and God’s plan. But there we were – trying to sort out details about coffins, headstones, and mortuary plans – all in this surreal, sublime soup of existence.
We did not have the money to pay for Ian’s funeral outright. And because he was so little, we did not have any life insurance on him. We were lost – how could we bury our son with the honor and dignity he deserved?
Beth Waters and her foundation had begun a Go Fund me account – Beth handled all the details and did all the messaging and outreach. Dozens and dozens of family, friends, military family, church family, and community members all graciously donated to our fund. Within $100, Beth had raised the almost exact amount needed to cover little Ian’s burial.
And she arranged all the financial details with the Cemetery.
Beth – my heart breaks as I write this. Those days were searing – a kind of burning pain that takes your breath away and leaves you in ashes. You allowed us to bury our son with the grace and respect and dignity he deserved. I cannot thank you enough. You continued to follow up with our family – checking in on us and offering a gentle, patient ear when we raged against the sorrow of our loss.
Since those days in May 2014, our family has endured the process of transformation and transfiguration. It’s been brutal, but we are learning to live and love on through the pain. And find some happiness again.
There is no way we would have survived those first few days, weeks, and months without the unconditional love and support from Beth and Operation Appreciation. We love you forever! Our lives will always be intertwined.
Love,
The Blairs
