July 22, 2005. The worst day of my life. And the start of my journey. It was the day my oldest son AJ left this life and went on to the next...
AJ was born on April 30, 1984 in Lakewood, California. He was so beautiful, with big bright eyes that seemed so knowledgeable, even at the beginning of his life. He was 20 1/2 inches long, the Doctors proclaimed he would be very tall (they were right)
As he got older (and taller) he was quiet and introspective, always such a good son and big brother. He was the one I could depend on to do the right thing, the one who would do things without being asked. He reminded me so much of myself at his age, the one in the background quietly observing, never quite bold enough to step up and be heard.
Once he got into High School, he seemed to find his niche'. He joined the ROTC and excelled in the ranks, a natural leader. He participated in every ceremony there was, from putting flags on the graves of Veterans during Veterans Day to marching in the local parade, he loved it. He loved it so much that it seemed natural for him to go off to the Navy after High School.
After Boot Camp, AJ moved around a bit, eventually settling in Coronado, CA (which was close to home) He was stationed aboard the USS John C. Stennis, CVN-74, which is a Nuclear Carrier. He came home every chance he got, at 6'7" it was nice for him to sleep in a real bed and eat some of moms' cooking. It was always so nice to see him duck under our doorways and scoop me up in an embrace, always smelling so good. He was so slim I could wrap my arms around his waist, giving him a big bear hug.
In late 2004, the Stennis was transferred to Bremerton, Washington to go into drydock for needed repairs and updating. AJ was not happy about being so far from home, but he knew it was temporary. He would try to come home when he could.
Bremerton is a small town with not much to do, AJ was miserable there. He and his friends tried to make the best of it, but it was hard. We were really looking forward to when he could come home for a visit. Maybe his 21st birthday? Maybe not. Unfortunately, it was not to be.
April 30, AJ turned 21. The day before, I had a long talk with him about the trend of 21 alcohol shots, he decided that was not for him.
Instead, he met a wonderful young lady named Regina who turned his life around.
For once since moving to Washington, he was happy. He spent time in Seattle, he went to Mariner games, he bowled, he biked, he got tattoos, he was having a ball. He was 21 and in love. His brothers were enthralled with how "hot" AJ's girlfriend was, I was glad he had someone to make him so happy, it was a win-win situation.
Somehow it all went wrong. Regina was a student and was working full time. The relationship was moving so fast. She suggested they take a break, she needed time to get caught up with school and work.
July 21st, some time during the evening, AJ called Regina to say he had taken an overdose of sleeping pills. Not believing him, she suggested he see a Doctor. He left his barrack, walked out into the hallway and their phone connection was broken. She was unable to call him the rest of the evening.
July 22, he is discovered in his barrack, non-responsive, but breathing. He is rushed to the local Hospital. Meanwhile, my youngest son calls me at work to tell me there is an emergency with AJ. I leave work and drive home.
Once at home, his C.O calls me and gives me the phone number to the Hospital. After finding out he is in the ICU, I talk to a nurse who bluntly tells me "He has taken an overdose of sleeping pills and is not expected to make it". Just like that. YOU BITCH!
20 minutes later, my worst fear is imagined when I receive the call that he is dead. Dead? DEAD! My child, my son, my firstborn, my baby, is gone. Just like that. How can that be? How am I supposed to bury my child, he's supposed to bury me, right?
