Sylvia: Everybody experiences death and loss so, I’m not that much different.
BW: Yeah but not everyone has to bury their child.
Sylvia: That’s true. That’s true. We had two sons and he was our youngest. He died one week after his thirty-fifth birthday, very suddenly. He had an abdominal aneurysm.
We were out of town at an antique show. We had a three story house and we had to get a ladder to climb in because the house was locked. It was bad. It was horrible. And, you know, there are certain images that you can’t erase. They’re ingrained in your memory forever.
My husband tried to keep me from going in the house and I just about knocked him down getting in there. My son was laying on the sofa. My son had beautiful blue eyes and of course you die with your eyes open and that’s all I saw. I grabbed him up. Later on that night, my husband wouldn’t let me go back home. I asked why and he said that there was something he had to clean up. I asked what it was and he said, “the blood in front of the sofa”. I hadn’t even seen the blood, I just saw my son.
Sooner or later the good images come and they kind of envelope you and you only have those bad images occasionally.
He road a motorcycle and he drank beer. I use to worry of course. He’d say, “mama, just don’t worry about me. I work hard, I party hard, I live hard, but I’m a good person. When it’s gonna be my time, there’s not gonna be anything you can do to stop it. Everybody’s got their time.”