(edit- I’ve decided to stop taking donations for Funeral expenses. Firstly, I was blown away by the generosity. I honestly had no idea that much money would be raised. $1,205.00! You wonderful people never cease to amaze me with your goodness. Second– I believe we may be able to get a good portion of funeral expenses covered through a program designed for victims of crimes. It won’t cover it all, but I believe with what we’ve raised here and through the car washes, the family will not incur any debt over this horrific tragedy. I can’t thank you all enough. I plan on signing every single name of every person who donated to the card I will give the family this weekend. I simply can not thank you all enough. xoxo)
(updated- Julia made a great point- “Y — if they have enough money for the funeral, they may like to use our
donations for some kind of memorial to honor their son. That would be
nice too.” If you still *want* to give, you can still do so through my PayPal account at mamarosaATgmailDOTcom. Any and ALL money deposited into that account will go to the family.)
Last Friday night, I told my children that we were going to visit Mikey’s parents. (Read about Mikey here.)
I told them that they didn’t have to come if they weren’t feeling up to it. I wanted it to be their decision. If they went, I wanted it to be because thy wanted to be there, not because they were forced to be there.
They surprised me. In a good way.
“We want to go, Mom.” They said.
We drove over to their house, with a heavy heart. What do you say to a mother who lost her son to senseless violence? What do you say to a father who just lost his only son? There simply no words, nothing you can say.
All you can do is be there. Let them know you love them, you’re thinking of them, you’re crying with them and you’re so very very sorry.
I was glad my boys were mature enough to make the decision to be there for Mikey’s parents, even though it wasn’t easy, even though it was going to be painful.
“Sometimes, the right thing is the hardest thing.” I’ve always told my children that.
They get it.
We all stood in the walkway, waiting for his parents to come out. “They’re not up for it.” A family member told us. “We completely understand.” I responded. “Just give them this card and tell them we are thinking of them.”
He said he was going to tell them and he’d be right back.
“Sue is going to come out.” he said.
Sue is Mikey’s mother.
She opened the screen door and collapsed into my arms. I’m not exaggerating. She literally fell into my arms. I did my best to hold her up. She was sobbing. I was crying.
“I’m so sorry. I’m just so sorry.” I said through my tears.
“I don’t understand. They shot my son in the chest. They left him to die on the concrete.” She wailed. “They won’t let me see my son.”
My husband and my children were standing behind us, as well as some other neighbors and their children. I could hear them all crying.
“And here, I was worried about the war.” She said. “He told me he wanted enlist, he wanted to be a man. I told him no! You’ll get killed!”
I held her up while she cried and wailed and spoke of her hurt, confusion, anger, sadness, unbelief.
It was one of the most *real* moments of my entire life.
When she was finally able to stand on her own, she let go of me and looked around. She saw my son, The Teenager. She walked over to him. “Oh, Andrew” She said as she embraced him tightly. “Mikey loved you so much.” She started to sob again. As did my son. “I loved him too, Susan. I’m so sorry. I’m so so sorry.”
I was heartbroken and yet, so very proud of my son. Proud that he chose to be there for his friend’s mother, even though it was painful and uncomfortable. Proud that he expressed how he was feeling so openly.
I think about that moment with Sue often throughout each day. I think of how broken she was, I think of how her life, her heart has been completely shattered. I can’t even begin to imagine how painful every waking minute of her days must be.
Although our pain doesn’t even compare to that of Sue and Pete, this situation has impacted our family in a profound way. We all feel as though we’ve lost a member of our family. Mikey was part of our lives, he was like family.
Every weekend, my boys were staying the night at his house, or he at ours. Almost every Saturday night, the boys would pile in The Astro Van for a short ride to Mikey’s to spend the night. It was a familiar scene to see our boys walking up the street early Sunday morning with bed head, a plastic bag filled with clothes and their pillows and blankets in hand.

He was at every single one of Andrew’s birthday parties.

I’m devastated he’ll never be at another.
Last weekend, a bunch of Mikey’s friends had a car wash to help raise funds for funeral expenses. They plan on doing another one this weekend. I’ve decided I’m going to try a little fundraising of my own here on this blog. I hate to ask for money from readers, but I hate to think of grieving parents struggling financial due to the expense of burying their child. I know that those of you who read here have generous and kind hearts. I know you’ll understand why I’m doing this.
I have not been asked by any family member to do this. I simply want to do whatever I can to help make their burden a bit easier. If you could find it in your hearts to give, I would be so grateful and I know that his parents will be as well.
I will take donations through Sunday, which is the day of the viewing.
Thank you in advance.