Our only two sons went to be with the Lord in a tragic and horrible car accident on Friday, October 26, 1990. That date will be etched in my heart and memory forever. The life of our family will never be the same again.

That night, my husband (Leon Jonas Sr.) and I went out to eat supper and passed near an accident on the interstate as we were heading home. When we saw that the traffic was heavy because of a tractor trailer accident, we went off the exit ramp to avoid it. I guess God was protecting us from having to live from now on with the nightmare of seeing our dead sons in their car.

About 11:15 PM, my husband and I were watching the late night news and saw a picture of a 1969 red Ford pinned under the front end of a tractor trailer on the television screen. We instantly knew it belonged to our son Leon Jr., even though we later learned that over a hundred people called the police thinking it was their relative. The reporter said three young men were killed when their car crossed the median into oncoming traffic and was hit by the tractor trailer after the car came up in front of it.

As we waited for the police to come let us know officially, I went to our bedroom, fell down on my knees and through tears gave them back to the Lord. I also thanked Him for the wonderful and fulfilling years our sons gave us. The Lord had given us Leon Jr. for 29 years and Wayne for 28. Some parents don’t even have that many years with their children.

Then I asked the Lord to give my family the strength to get through the next few hours and days, especially my husband, daughter, daughter-in-law (Emma, Wayne’s wife), and grandson Richard. Next I went into the kitchen to join my husband and daughter. I felt we would need a servant of the Lord to help give us strength and called our pastor to come help us go through the next few hours.

The pastor came after the police came who told us officially what they knew had happened. He only told us what we already knew except that the name of the young man in the backseat who was killed was Keith Lyle, who was a close friend of my sons. The one question we desperately needed an answer to was why Leon Jr. crossed the median. That question will never be answered on this side of heaven.

After the police left, the pastor, my husband and I went down to my son Wayne’s house to tell his wife. We had to wake her up to tell her Wayne was in an accident. She thought he was just hurt; when it finally sunk in that Wayne was dead, Emma screamed. I jumped up and held her in my arms. After she calmed down some, I went into their bedroom, picked up my precious grandson Richard and hugged him real tight with tears running down my face. He is all that we have left of our two sons and I know that Wayne will always live through him. Leon Jr. lived at home and never got married, but I feel a part of him is in Richard too.

By 4:00 AM, we finally were able to get to bed and try to sleep. I kept calling Wayne’s name when Wayne suddenly answered, "Mom, I’m alright." I relaxed a little; God had allowed Wayne to let me know that he was with Him.

The next day, friends and relatives kept coming in. I was still tired from so little sleep, so my sisters told me to go into our bedroom and lay down for a while. I couldn’t get Leon Jr. off my mind, so I kept calling, "Leon Jr., where are you?" Then the Lord allowed Leon Jr. to speak to me. "Mom, I’m home." He said. With his words in my heart and mind, I knew the Lord was reassuring me that the boys were with Him. My Lord knew that all mothers need to know where their children are. I went to my knees and thanked Him for the assurance that they were in Heaven with Him. Now I realize that the Lord used the boys’ voices to reassure me.

One of my sisters who knew I had always had a strong faith in the Lord made the remark that the Lord allowed this to happen to me because He knew I could take it and my sister couldn’t. Her words really hurt me more because then I wished I wasn’t so strong so I would still have my sons.

The only pain I could feel was when I took a bath, turned on the hot water as hot as I could stand; then I would sit in it and cry my heart out.

After about eight months, the shock wore off and the horrible agonizing pain of never being able to hold or touch my sons again set in. My sons would always kiss and hug me when they left for the evening or to go home. I will never again have that expression of their love. On Sundays, I went to church and cried through the whole service. I wanted so desperately for people to show they cared but only one lady stopped me in the parking lot and gave me a hug.

I could feel the devil was finally pulling my spirits down by telling me that people really didn’t care if I lived or died. I didn’t want to kill myself but I wanted to die so I could hold my sons again. I was losing the will to keep living even though I still loved the Lord. I began feeling like a modern day Job. I felt most of my friends had deserted me and people that I had always taken care of during their bad times were not there for me when I needed them most.

Once when a friend’s husband left her after twenty years of marriage, and took her children, she fell apart. When she couldn’t sleep, she would call me in the middle of the night to help her and read some Psalms to her. I was there for her night and day, giving her support. But now, when I needed her, she wasn’t there for me.

Then June 29, 1991, I was at my lowest point and wished I had cancer and could die and join my sons, God allowed a light to shine through. My pastor called to check on how I was doing and I really let him have it. I told him that I felt like he and the church members did not care about me since they didn’t show it. I couldn’t believe I could talk to our pastor like that. Here he was taking a vacation that he really needed and I was giving him a hard time before he left.

As we talked, I asked him how a friend of ours named Marilyn was doing. She was also a church member. He said she was in bad shape. When I hung up, I called my friend to check up on her. She had been talking about killing herself for almost two years. She didn’t seem to want to live since her husband died. I called, someone seemed to pick up the phone and then hang up. I felt God wanted me to go check on her and try to give her some reason to live, even though I wanted to die. 

It was on the way there that God spoke to me through my sons saying, "You can’t come now, Mom, you have work to do." Then I started thinking about what my friend and I both needed. It was to know that someone cares. Then I felt God telling me that He wanted me to help people who have not gone through what we have by showing them some ways they can aid people like us. It finally dawned on me that my friends didn’t come around because they didn’t know what to say or how to help.

Someone once wrote, "We all need to know that someone cares. There is that inconsolable something within each of us that cries out for assurance that we do not stand alone in our hour of trouble."

I finally felt a sense of peace that I had not felt since the boys died. In some miraculous way I feel my sons are still living through me as I help people learn how to show they care for grieving friends and loved ones. My sons were always the kind of young men who were there when anyone needed help, especially working for free on people’s cars that broke down. Helping people and their friends with their cars was why they went into auto mechanics. They really cared about people. I know that I will never be the same person I once was, but I hope I am now a more compassionate and caring person especially to people who lose their children.

Some ways that you can help someone who has lost a child or loved one are:

Grieving parents usually want to talk about their children, so just be there to listen. If you knew their child, it would help if you would share a good memory of their child. Also, don’t worry if they cry while listening to you or when they are talking about their child. It helps to release their tensions inside of them and get their feelings out. Tears will probably be a part of their life from now on.

Touching and hugging are important elements in the expression of caring. When you can’t think of the right words to say, just give them a hug. A hug communicates warmth, caring and love at a time that they feel very lonely and unloved. Sometimes grieving parents feel like they have a disease that drives people away, so a hug conveys compassion that they desperately need.

Just being there for them really helps. Ask them for specific ways you can help, such as preparing a meal for them. They may be so depressed they don’t feel like cooking for their family.  Send a card, especially when you can remember their child’s birthday, Mother’s & Father’s Days, Thanksgiving, Easter and especially Christmas, which may be the most depressing of all holidays. Christmas and my sons’ death date are especially hard on me. Just a card that says you care may be just the words they need that day. Calling them once in awhile to say, "I’m here for you" can brighten their day also.

Statements such as these don’t help and may really increase their pain & anger.

A key concept in helping someone going through grief is to be patient with him or her. They may show feelings of rage, anger, frustration and guilt. Knowing that they need to work through their feelings can help you in helping them. Do not tell them their feelings are wrong because an individual’s feelings are their own and neither right nor wrong.

Recognize that grieving can take anywhere from a year to many years. There is really no timetable on when it is over; it all depends on the individual. Even then they probably never will be the same person they were before their child’s death. Someone has said that when you lose your child, you lose your future. There is no way your life will ever go back to what it once was because as parents, we all live and work to give our children a future. For parents who lose their children, that future is no longer there.

Footnote: This was written within a few years of my sons’ death. Since then, my first husband died in 1995. Before then, Footprints Ministry was formed as a support group for Christian mothers who had lost a child; now Footprints Ministry is for grieving families. The "Choices" program, to help young people consider their choices, was formed later. Footprints Ministry spearheaded the drive for Our Children’s Memorial Walkway, now located in Frazier Park in downtown Charlotte. Skip Mudge, a widower, and I were married in ’97. We also conduct the 13-week GriefShare series throughout the Charlotte NC area.

 

 
 

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