child loss, bereavement, tcf canada, tcf, compassionate friends, grief, grieving

The Murder Of My Son, Sam
by Jayne Collins TCF/Atlanta, GA

My son had been dead not quite thirteen months when I finally found what I had been searching for for months—one inch of newsprint telling of the existence of a support group in Atlanta for bereaved parents—The Compassionate Friends. I needed desperately to talk to someone who had suffered the loss of a child.

My second son, Sam, age 21, had been murdered in the street in downtown Atlanta. He made the last mistake he will ever make on that December night: he resisted a robbery. Up until then I only thought I had problems. I had lost my father, my marriage of twenty years, had survived cancer and the heartbreak of having one of my sons rebel against the very things I had instilled in him. But all of this was minor compared to the shock and pain of Sam's death. When someone came to tell me of his murder, I felt as though I had been split down the middle with a chain saw without anesthesia.

I had been trying to work through all my emotions for over a year, but the horror and heartache of having him die so needlessly and senselessly, of having him robbed of the dignity of the choice of life — the right to live, my feelings about his murderers, whoever they were, my anger at his friend who ran and deserted him at the time of the robbery, the seeming lack of interest of the homicide department, the unwanted attention of the media, the morgue, the autopsy, the burial, my anger at the mayor for his refusal of the courtesy of an answer to my letters, was all too much. And, all the while I felt I was losing my mind because my “normal” friends, those who had not outlived a child, were telling me I should be “all over it” by now, and I believed them. I needed to know I was sane.

Attending The Compassionate Friends meetings helped me to know that my feelings, whatever they were, were normal for me. I learned it was okay to be both angry at my son for his stupidity and carelessness in resisting a robbery and also proud of him for standing up for a principle that said what was his, was his.

The Compassionate people who attended these meetings helped me to save my second marriage because I didn't understand my husband's grief. They helped me to better understand my surviving children's problems, as well as to learn there are no good ways to lose a child. They helped me to learn to express my anger at God for what I felt were His failings, and then to forgive Him and find peace, understanding and love from my God again.

I loved my son more than myself. We had loved and fought for half of my lifetime. He was a big giver and a big taker and was the “life” of our family. He had a sense of self worth, knowing who he was and where he was going. He had a lot to give. I lost a large part of my future when he died, as well as my pride, my joy, and happiness. I was consumed for a long time with what I had lost.
Today, I am no longer angry at Sam. I had given him the right to make his own choices with his life. I remember the good and bad of him, for he had both. My son's life had a purpose, and with the help of TCF, the many hours on the phone and in the meetings, his death has had a purpose for today I am a stronger, better person for having experienced Sam's life and his death. I still don't know who murdered him, but I have been able to put that aside, recognizing I may never know and this is something I can do nothing about. I refuse to let it consume me for the rest of my life. I am now a more complete person, ready to move forward.
If you are struggling with the aftermath of a murder, I hope you hear my message that it will be better. It takes time, but most worth while things do.