When he was in the 8th grade we were out to dinner (one of our Connor and mom date nights), and he told me about his first crush in the 8th grade. He said when he thought of her, he had this intenseness in his heart he had never experienced and how that felt strange and cool and awful all rolled into one big ball. “Mom my stomach literally hurts, is that what it’s like to have a crush?” When he was dating a girl last year he asked, “Mom how do you know when you’re in love and how do you tell someone you love them? When do you know it’s the right time?” I said “Now, baby doll. You tell them now. Don’t ever wait to tell someone you love them.” Just 4 months later he was gone.
Connor loved deeply – there wasn’t really an in-between with him. If you were lucky enough to have been loved by Connor that love went right into the core of his being. He was an all or nothing kind of person. He didn’t know how to love any other way. He loved big and strong. He had a powerful aura that drew others in. So many people have told me after his death that they felt such a closeness with him even though they may not have been super close, they felt as if they were because Connor made everyone feel like a friend.
To say I was blown away by the outpouring of support from my community was an understatement. An astounding 1300 people came to his memorial. At his high school graduation, his father and I went to the podium to accept his diploma. As we turned around, the 3000 people in the stands gave Connor a standing ovation. A truly powerful moment and one in which I know Connor was watching from above. I knew he was a well-liked kid, what I didn’t know was just how many lives he touched and each in their own special way. People have contacted me in support who didn’t know Connor but had heard about him and perhaps were changed because his story was so tragically beautiful.
You may be wondering about the dream I had had when I was first pregnant with Connor. In the depths of my utter despair and sadness in the confused days that passed immediately after his death, I suddenly realized that the boy represented Connor’s uniqueness and the people represented all the people whose lives were touched and changed because of him. In my dream people were drawn to the boy much like those who knew Connor were. I don’t know if death is supposed to mean anything, or what we are supposed to take away from it. But certainly when someone so young and formidable dies in such a tragic way it gives us time to pause. Our lives are forever changed, and perhaps for others too now, we all know how precious life is because of him. Maybe we will all live a little better, love a little harder and be a little kinder because of my son. The dream says it all.
I received a Facebook message from another woman, whom I don’t know, who lost her 18 year old son not too long before Connor. I think her words to me are fitting so I want to share them here. She said, I believe in miracles and the miracle is not that he will come home, no that won’t happen. The miracle is all the love he brought to my door the day he left. I think our boys were just too good for this world. They left so many people infinitely sad because they loved so infinitely deep.
It was an honor to be Connor’s mom. I was chosen to be the mom of a truly beautiful young man - that is my miracle.
It was an honor to be Connor’s mom. I was chosen to be the mom of a truly beautiful young man
that is my miracle.