Another Month Has Passed.

It's been a month since I've written anything here. I'm not writing because of an obligation I feel to jot something down on a regular basis, but because I miss Cameron and need to express myself. This is a good place to start, although I'm sure a very small percentage of those who read this during Cameron's ordeal have moved on to other things and won't follow this blog anymore. I am certainly not saying that out of bitterness or blame, but because I have also moved on in many ways and understand how we, as humans, work.

One of my new friends dropped in to see me today. She became a friend through Cameron's tragedy. She was a huge help during that time. She knew Cam like few others did as he was in her home quite often. She knew he was silly, witty, sensitive, and hilarious. She was deeply affected by Cameron's death. I mean Really affected because she loved Cam like a son. Anyway, I asked her how she had been and I immediately new from her expression that it had not been great. Even though we're friends now, I didn't feel I could pry. But, we talked about Cam and her son, did a little reminiscing, and other small talk. But it came out that another friend of hers had died just recently. We talked about what happened and how it affected her.

Now, here is where I learned a lesson about human behavior. Even though I had just gone through losing Cam, I was frozen in my tracks. My first thought was "I really know now how you feel." my second thought was "What in the world can I do?" What I mean is that I was at a loss for words and felt completely inadequate to be someone she is telling this to. All I could think of doing was to give her a hug, tell her how sorry I was and ask her if there is anything i can do to help. Shouldn't I have inside knowledge now of how to make her feel better? Isn't there special powers given to the "I've lost someone close" club?

I guess what I realize is that as much as I hurt for my friend and want to make it better, I can't. And, honestly, when I see her again it will be hard to know what to say besides "How are you doing?" The same thing I was ranting on about before. Now I see that everyone who dares speak to me now most likely are my real friends whether they dwell on Cameron or not.

Well, I took off the pink wristband. It got real dirty when I was changing the brakes on the Suburban. It wasn't too bad because I hung it next to my bathroom sink so that I can see it every morning before I start my day. Kristie and I and the girls are adjusting to having the house to ourselves. I know Cam's busy with his stand-up routine now, but I hope he feels that he can come tease us anytime. We went and celebrated at Cam's grave on Memorial Day. It was nice that we had some of his friends there too. Can I say this too, I always thought that putting flowers and stuff on loved one's graves was a little shallow. What I mean is I always thought that you should celebrate them all year. Of course, now I know that it is one way to remember while enjoying the support of everyone else who has loved ones who have passed away. So, I will happily enjoy decorating Cam along with everyone else on Memorial Day (in addition to doing stuff throughout the year).

Kristie and I have struggled with geting Cam's grave marker ordered (another thing I have learned is that it isn't called a headstone now). We know what shape and color he would want, and we want his picture, but we're stuck at that. We'll get it done when we go to the grave marker store, but haven't really found the time yet (I think on purpose for now). What can we say about Cameron that would fit in that space in so few words?

I still cry. I miss him. Kristie does too. It's nice that no-one is fighting for his room (it has it's own bathroom) because the girls already have their own. So, we wander in there from time to time just to have Cam time. I don't think we'll keep it like it is forever, but it is nice to have it for now.

I wish Cam knew how much he really was loved. He would say that nobody at school liked him and how much he was picked on. We're finding out that he had alot of admirers and he was actually pretty well liked by alot of people. I guess the lesson there is to tell our friends we love them.

Mike.

Proud Dad, Sad Dad

I still have on the pink wrist band that Primary Children's Hospital gave Kristie and me to denote us as parents of a patient on the PICU. Kristie took hers off because it wasn't practical to have on at work as a nurse (for sanitary and other reasons). I think it will be cathartic when mine comes off. I think, for me, it represents the possibility that Cameron will pull through. While I have it on, he is still in the hospital alive. I don't really care if that is unhealthy thought, it is all I have left. I am prepared for it to come off...I check it multiple times every day. But, that doesn't mean I won't break down again and cry for a while.

I mentioned "blindsiders" before. This is when something out of the blue hits you and causes you to lose composure for a while. Well, I got another one yesterday. I was so proud that Cameron was able to donate part of himself to help other people. It was a decision that wasn't hard to make for Kistie and me. Cameron was naturally generous and would have been disappointed not to have done it. But, yesterday we received in the mail a very nice "Certificate of Recognition" from the Utah's Donate Life Coalition. It reads, in part "Utah's Donate Life Coalition Gratefully Acknowledges Cameron Earnhart as a donor who has made an invaluable and selfless contribution to all people whose lives are enriched through transplantation." I spent some time on the couch crying after reading that for the first time.

......Bittersweet.......

There are so many ways I was proud of Cameron. As usual, I don't think I told him often enough. I want to tell him now how much my heart swells to read this certificate. To anyone reading it in passing, it may seem trite or understated. But, to me, in my situation it couldn't be more perfect. I can understand like never before how unselfish Cameron was, even in death.

It is hard to go forward with a huge empty space in our house and in our lives. It seems to be difficult for people we associate with to know how to act or what to say around us. I want anyone reading this to know a truth. I can't stand the questions "How are you doing?" and "How you holding up?" The standard answer is "It's hard, but we're doing OK." Bullfrikin' Pucky. We are not OK and we're not holding up. But that doesn't mean we give up on everything else. We love the support and the friendship. We love being told you're sorry and that you're thinking about us. Don't be afraid to show support. Don't avert your eyes in passing, don't avoid the subject, and don't be afraid of our feelings. We hurt like Hell, but we aren't going to bite your head off.

Thank you who continue to care. Thank you for knowing this is the hardest time we've gone through, but also understanding that we will keep on keepin' on......

Cam's B-Day

Today, May 5th, is Cam's Birthday. He would have been 16.

Kristie and I knew last week what we would do today. We took the 4 girls to Cam's grave, wrote our personal notes on balloons and let them fly...it was windy so they had a wild ride. It reminded me alot of Cameron's life. He was always in a hurry to get from one place to the next, but never in a straight line. One of our traditions is to take the kids out to dinner wherever they want on their Birthdays. Cam was a huge meat-eater as you could imagine. His favorite place to eat was Rodizios Brazilian Grill at Trolley Square. He loved to eat the Chicken Livers and Buffalo and Most of all the Snake (of course, he would chow down on the regular Sausage and Sirloin too). Well, mostly the Girls say EWWW to that stuff. Cam also loved a good rack of ribs. His next favorite place is Texas Roadhouse. We celebrated Cameron on his Birthday by taking the family to Texas Roadhouse.

Kristie and I go out to on our anniversary every year. We love Texas Roadhouse too. As we sat with our girls waiting for our food, a guest at another table got the "Happy Birthday" song treatment. Wow.......I read somewhere that these moments are called "Blindsiders." You think you are handling things OK for the day when you are hit with something that completely throws you off. The realization that Cameron was not here for this celebration was dumped all over our composure. The food was excellent, but as Kristie said afterword, "That was the worst meal I've had in a long time."

We should have been planning a Birthday, not a funeral. Every day we try to look at the bright side. We cry with smiling faces when a family writes that a child has been touched by this tragedy and swear not to do drugs, quit drinking, or change some behavior. But at the same time wonder why it had to come to this to raise awareness to our neighbors.

Moms and Dads, your kid might be using.

"Cam?"

"Yeah"

"You OK"

"Yeah"

Life Going On

It's been 1 week since Cameron's funeral. I still catch myself expecting Cam to be here. I brought home some drums I bought at my store to work on at home. As soon as I walked in the house, I just about called for Cam to come help me unload them. We had family time tonight like we try to do on Mondays. Everyone was around the table to start, but it felt empty. Not like just one person was missing, but like 2 or 3 were missing. Kristie and I just said "Can't believe how much room that boy took up." Not only in space, but in energy and sound. We cook half as much food for dinner, there are leftovers in the fridge that would have never survived with Cam, and there is food in the pantry and drinks that haven't been touched.

Things around the house are very, very quiet. Some of it can be chalked up to our mood, we've been quite somber. Right now it's hard to be jovial or even light hearted. The real truth is that I keep seeing Cameron on his bed, blue and barely breathing. It makes my heart ache that he had to go through that. I know he never felt anything, but still I cry that he didn't deserve to go through hours of slowly losing the fight to live.

I thought I would be obsessed with who and where the pill came from. I don't think about that very much, though. I wonder and am really saddened at the possibility that someone gave it to him (for money or not) and that the somebody knows what happened. How could you live with that? Well, Cameron made his own choice to take it and the consequences were the worst possible. I just hope someone has taken the lesson of this to heart, even after the shock has worn off.

My life will never be the same. There will be times when I will wonder what Cam would be doing if he were still here. There will also be times when I just cry that he is gone. But life is going on...

I miss you, Bug.

A Strange Day

So, today was the day part of me never believed would really happen. I'm still not sure I believe it. He'll be home from his scout camp-out any minute, right? He better be home soon, he's got school tomorrow.

But no. I drove back to the cemetary only a couple hours after we left him there just to make sure he was tucked in OK. Of course he was. I left a piece of my heart there (the big piece that fell out a week ago and I have been carrying on my sleeve.) It really felt wrong to leave him there.

I am not sure how I feel right now. Tired. Ready to wake up from this nightmare, that's for sure.

I must have thanked hundreds of people for coming today. It must have sounded trite, but I meant it from the bottom of my heart. The only thing that has helped even a little is having the support (written as well as physical) of friends and family. Really, truly. Thank you for being there for us.

Pics of Cameron

Thoughts of Thanks

It is Sunday night. Tomorrow is Camerons funeral. One week ago we awoke to the worst day of our lives. The pictures in our minds of finding Cameron remain and the heartache of the week is lingering. This is the first time in my life that I have cried until my eyes itch and ache. We may be able to express our true grief tomorrow, but more likely we will be in a haze and numb. There have been few moments that Kristie and I have been alone for enough time to start crying together. The support and love has been tremendous and our grattitude is real.

I had an especially hard day today, mostly because of preparations for tomorrow. Truthfully though, I was wanting to grieve some so that I could hold myself together tomorrow. Our family that is here has been wonderful. Some we haven't seen for years. I can't tell you how great it is to have family that barely know my son be able to really understand my grief because they know how I am. I loved my son more than words can describe. He was my oldest and my only boy. I am so glad that, even with the faults that Cam and I have, at the end of the day we could sit on the couch in the basement and watch Family Guy or Simpsons and enjoy being together. We could also enjoy the secret that we were watching the shows that Mom tried to block.

Cameron was spending much more time with friends and playing XBox than with me lately. I accepted that our relationship be more and more from a distance because that's what teens do. But, Cam never complained when I crashed his TV time, especially when I brought him a Diet Pepsi home. The moments we spent together alone will be with me forever.

We want Herriman (United) Fire to know how much we appreciate them. It isn't easy to see and deal with what they did at our house that morning. They were professional and patient even when dealing with and RN and and ex-EMT. I especially wanted to thank Officer Vollmer with the Sherrif's office. He was there that morning keeping things calm. He also came to Primary's just to check on Cam. His sincerity was real and appreciated. I know that his heart broke at the news that Cam was gone.

To everyone that has thought, prayed, served, and talked to us this week...Thank You! I couldn't imagine going through this alone. The empty place where Cameron should be will never go away, but our hearts are full because of the love of others.

Thank you,
Mike, Kristie, Courtney, Caitlyn, Carlee, and Callie.