Chapter 1: Life

This is the first chapter of my personal story of how I worked through the pain of losing my son to a violent death. You don’t ever get over what happened, you put it in another place so you can cope with the loss. Parents who live through this type of loss are usually left in limbo. Everyone has their own way of grieving. This is my way of working through my loss. I hope this book can help others who have suffered a tragic loss.

To protect myself legally some of the names were changed

I married at the age of twenty. My husband and I moved into our apartment. One year later our first child, a boy named Norman Jr. came along. The first two months were a nightmare. Normie was colicky, but after two months passed he was the greatest. He was a very happy baby.

I’m an over-protective mother, like many other new mothers. When Normie was a year old we started looking for our first home. We wanted a place where we were going to stay and raise our family. In 1972 we found a home near Midway Airport.

Four years later our second son arrived and we named him Richard. My children meant the world to me. I centered my life a round them. My children and I were very close. We went everywhere together.

As years passed, the boys went to grammar school, and were well liked by both teacher and students. We sent both boys to Saint Laurence High School. We wanted them to have a good education. We had some difficulties along the way, especially when they became teenagers. Both boys had curfews. This is where our difficulties began because most of their friends didn’t have curfews.  They wanted us to lift the curfew. My husband and I said “curfew stands.”

Before we knew it, it was time for graduation. After high school Normie worked with his father as a floor layer. He and his father got along at first but as time past he wanted his independence. He stared getting touchy especially whenever his father gave him more rules to follow. Being eighteen, he didn’t like more rules. He had an attitude whenever we had any type of conversation. As a mother, and being close to my children, I got the feeling that something was wrong. I had long talks with Normie and he convinced me everything would be alright.

Things were alright for a while. A few months later, Normie told me he was drinking heavily, and he would black out at times and not remembering what was happening to him.

My heart dropped. Normie said, “I need help.” By calling a few places around our area, I obtained some help for him. We had a scheduled appointment with a person to evaluate what type of help he needed. That person enrolled him in Christ Hospital Alcohol Center as an out patient. He attended every night during the week from six to ten for eight week program.  The first few days he attended he was not happy about it. After a few weeks into the program he was doing quite well. Normie finally understood his father in a different way.  The center helped him understand his feelings and where his father stood on certain issues. I told Normie I was proud of him because he admitted he needed help. Most kids at his age would never admit to having any type of problems.  Normie and his father still had a few issues with a few of his friends my husband didn’t like. Despite his father’s feeling he would see them anyway.