On that mild February morning, my husband, Phil, stood at Joseph’s bedroom door, ready to knock. But then he thought, No, he is seventeen. He can get himself up if he wants to come with me. So Phil waited to see if Joseph would tumble out of bed to join him for the men’s breakfast at church.
A typical Saturday morning at the Ramsey’s meant a big breakfast – French toast, scrambled eggs, and bacon. The boys would finish their chores while I cooked, and then we’d clean up together after breakfast. After that, everyone was free to enjoy the day. But this Saturday, we weren’t having a big family breakfast. We were scattering in different directions.
Our middle son, Curt, would be off for the day with the youth group helping on a friend’s farm. Our youngest, Wyatt, had planned to spend the day with Joseph, but the night before was invited to the next round of a 4-H talent competition and was needed at tryouts that morning. He was performing a tae kwon do kata to music. Usually, I would have enjoyed a relaxing day home from work, but I had to take Wyatt to his tryouts – an outing that annoyed me at the time.
Joseph was excited to join his dad for his first men’s breakfast. Joseph’s church life was always important to him, as was spending time with his dad. So he did indeed get up in time and shower. He did his chores the night before, so they didn’t go undone while he was out.
Joseph emerged from his room, dressed and eager to go. I still remember exactly what he wore: jeans, a long-sleeved T-shirt, a navy windbreaker with a white stripe across the chest, and new sneakers.
Phil and Joseph had a great time together at the breakfast, sharing a table and enjoying bacon, eggs, and biscuits. Phil was laughing and joking with the men as usual and noticed Joseph looking at him whenever he glanced his way as if to say, “There goes my dad again.”
After the gathering, the men cleared the tables and put the room back in order. Joseph and his friend Aaron, who had also attended the breakfast, prepared to leave. They were headed to an electronics store thirty-five miles away to purchase a CD player for Joseph’s car. His dad and I had given him a gift certificate for Christmas to get one, and Joseph had waited two months to make his purchase, researching the best deal. That was our boy, frugal and responsible. Now he was finally going to get that CD player. After a trip to the electronics store and lunch at a Burger King, the boys would head back to Aaron’s family farm, where Aaron, who could fix anything, would install the CD player.
Phil and a few men were going to help a church member move. As Joseph and Aaron were heading out the door, Joseph asked his friend to wait so he could say goodbye to his dad. Those two men of mine hugged one another. Phil’s last words to his son were, “I love you.”
Joseph and Aaron had a good time that morning. They found the CD player Joseph wanted.
On the way home, the boys stopped at a fire station to pick up Joseph’s car as planned so he could follow Aaron back to the farm. Aaron later told us that Joseph got into his car and then got back out. Joseph thanked him again for helping with the CD player. Those were the last words Joseph spoke to anyone. They never made it to the farm. Just shy of Aaron’s driveway, Joseph wrecked his car.
A personal note …
Friend,
Your story may be very different than mine. Still, our grief bonds us. Please know I pray for you. I’d love to listen to your story.
Shelley