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A Trip Down the Rabbit Hole 
by Michele Marie Tate 

I'll never forget that day we got the news that my son had died in a car accident. The gut-wrenching howl that echoed from my throat sounded like a wounded animals cry. A wave of anger, pain, and disbelief overwhelmed me with the vengeance of an avalanche, crushing the life force within me.

What I didn't know then, was the surface of this pain had only been scratched and the journey ahead would be the hardest road I'd ever walked. Only now, seventeen years later, can I look back and reflect on how I survived this tragedy and personally changed through the lessons learned. 

It was Memorial Day weekend and we had planned a family get away. Our son Irwin was twenty-one, healthy and a very talented writer and singer. He had formed several bands and wrote forty-two songs, several screenplays and we had begun writing a book together called E.A.R.T.H. (Experimental Action to Reach Terrestrial Harmony). 

I was working at a Dental office and my husband had his own business that my son worked in. While driving toward our destination, our son got a phone call that his girlfriend had been hospitalized and he was worried. So Irwin called a friend to come get him and returned home before we were too far away. My husband, older daughter and I got to say goodbye to him together, not knowing this would be the last time we would ever see him alive.

When we returned home there was a business card tucked into the side of our front door. My husband pulled it out and showed it to me. It was a police officer’s business card marked call immediately. Right then, somehow I knew Irwin was gone. Sobbing, I told my husband and daughter, "Irwin died. but they didn't believe me until they heard the messages of condolences on our answering machine. Irwin had been driving with another boy who had survived the rollover car accident. We later learned that it happened outside of Baker, Calif. and my son was thrown from the vehicle. He hadn't died immediately and was flown by helicopter to the hospital, but was pronounced dead on arrival. 

What followed was a blur of events. Feeling like a zombie I made phone calls telling others about our nightmare. I wanted it to be a bad dream, but with each conversation the reality of his death couldn't be denied. Exchanges of sympathy poured in as we prepared to bury our precious son. We focused on a proper tribute to his life, his accomplishments and the details of the funeral needing handling right away. The grief and missing never left, but it was impossible to comprehend or deal with it all at once. 

I remember people saying they were praying for us. Thinking back, I honestly believe I felt this support. Yet, when my anger and grief overpowered me questions to God like, “What if?’ and “Why?” plunged like a sharp sword deep into my heart. 

My life had forever changed from that moment forward. Dreams of the future torn away like the pages of our unfinished book. There is an unimaginable amount of despair, sorrow and pain that comes from losing a child. Literally, it felt like a part of me died that day. Death takes so much away from you and darkens the following days. It has taken me years to heal and a scar will always remain on my heart. The passing of time softens your pain and you learn life goes on. I’m writing this to share my journey and offer faith and hope to those who suffer the loss of a loved one. 

The following experiences may be hard to fathom, but they were as real to me as the bones in my body. Three days after we received the tragic news I had my first encounter with the unexplainable. I was crying in my room when I heard the echo my son’s laughter ringing in my ears. There was not a speck of joy in my heart at that moment, yet the familiar sound of his voice comforted me. I’ve never forgotten the first words he said, “Mom, you were right.”

“Right about what.” I didn’t understand then, but vowed to figure it out. This was the beginning of many times that we connected. During that first year, life felt unbearable. All joy and pleasure seemed out of place. Anger, guilt and sorrow consumed me in the first days, weeks and months. My relationship with my husband, friends and close family changed because I wasn’t the same. The very things that brought me simple enjoyment, like eating, a movie, spending time with other families now came with painful reminders of my own loss. 

I asked God, “How am I going to go on?” Nothing seemed worthwhile. I’d lost all hope in tomorrow and dreaded each new day. In the depth of my despair I even longed to join my son and called out to him, “How am I going to live the rest of my life without you?” 

To my astonishment his voice sounded in my ear saying,” Mom, I’m only a heartbeat, breathe and snap of a finger away,” 

I argued back, “I have the rest of my life to be without you.” 

Again I heard his laughter. He’d say, “ Time is an illusion.” 

“Not to me.” I’d answer back. 

Throughout that year I struggled to find something to hold on to. Then I was laid off from my job because I took too many days off. It was another hit of life’s unfairness. Even so, it offered me quiet time to process my emotions. I would sit outside in my backyard sobbing and yearning for my son. One day I noticed a blue bird resting at the top of a tree near the far left corner of our yard. Suddenly it flapped its wings, rose up in the air, loudly tweeting and returned back to the top of the tree. I smiled thinking maybe it had preformed this trick for me. 

To my surprise, on many days the little bird returned and repeated his personal performance. I told my husband about it and wasn’t sure if he believed me. Then one day when I was crying in my bedroom, my husband told me that he saw my bird outside in the tree. We had French doors that offered a view of the backyard, I looked up and sure enough he was there. That day I realized if I could see him from my bed then he also could be watching me. I felt this small creature was surely a sign and message to me to keep looking up. Everything in my life seemed dark and upside down, yet somehow looking up brought some light back into my life.

Several months later, my husband and I decided to visit the site of my son’s accident. The location had been clearly marked by the highway patrol’s report. We pulled over and began walking around. We found several remnants from our vehicle and I picked up a tape cassette that was still in tact. From the corner of my eye I saw a pair jeans, covered with dirt. I fell to my knees knowing they belonged to my son. While on the ground, tears poured down my cheek thinking of his last moments. Soon, something strange occurred. I sensed him waving his arms at me and frantically saying, “Mom, I didn’t die…I transcended.” 

Shaking my head, I tried to understand his words, but grief overcame me. When we returned home I told my husband about it and we looked up the word transcend. The exact meaning is, movement from one place to another. 

During that first year getting up each day was a challenge. I wanted life to be like it was before and I fought accepting that it never could be. What hurt the most was facing all the time ahead of me that I would have to live without my child, never seeing him marry or have children of his own. A few days before the year anniversary of his death, I again heard my son’s voice say. “Mom, I’m going to explain time to you.” 

Pulling out a paper and sitting down alone in our study, I waited for his words, which seemed to be in a poem. 

“Time is something the earth gave a name...to mark its passing as it came. Though really it does not exist...may you come to terms with this. Past is now as the present unfolds and future begins as though it were told. Creation has no beginning or end… all is happening at once around the bend. Forward or backward a circle is made, forever revolving this earthly charade. Imagine a circle spinning in air….. the essence of life is what is in there. The mind of a human holds all that is known and those that succeed the answers are shown. Birth is a gift that you measure with time. Life is the process willed by your mind. Death is the passing into eternity, beginning a new kind of spirit journey. You may not fully understand, but that is just part of a larger plan. 

This world was created with so much love, have faith and believe in the world above. Mom, it matters not that time goes by….for what has been will never die.”

Reading this over and over I came to realize what my son meant by his first words, “Mom, you were right.” I’d always believed in a hereafter and he was never sure. 

As time passed, I began to see promise again in the future. With the power of faith and love from my husband, daughter and her family I chose to be grateful for every day that my son lived and every day that I do. I've learned how precious each moment of life is and that we honor this gift and our creator by how we live. 

I admire Nicole Kidman for accepting the role of a bereaved mother in the motion picture Rabbit Hole. Her incredible talent and courage will help many who have lived this tragedy and those who fear it. 

____________________

I am an writer and author and live in Portland, OR. All my life I have been on a spiritual journey and when my son died I longed to understand the bigger picture of life. This is my true story and I hope it offers some healing and hope to all who read it. 

My website is www.michelemarietate.com