A mom buried her first-born son a few days after Valentine’s Day this year.
He was born, and died, eighteen years apart, on this day that represents Love. The son was returning home from boarding school to celebrate his special day along with his mom’s birthday, that was a day or two later. The crash he was in took both drives lives .
His family and community are devastated beyond belief. The victim was a grandson of a special cousin of mine. Colby left behind a younger brother, parents, a huge extended family, and a multitude of friends, whose lives he impacted. All are dealing with an emptyness in their hearts. Hopefully remembering his eighteen years will bring them all comfort after they have delt with their grief.
The following was read at his memorial and needs to be preserved as a lasting tribute to him from a loving mother.
All deaths cause a ripple effect. His will cause hundreds………………………………………………………………………………………..
A Tribute to My First Born❤️
To My Sweet Boy,
Colby, you were the baby I longed for, you were perfect in every way. Your big blue eyes, your soft skin, and your snuggly ways. I believe I held you for the entire first year of your life. You were my pride and joy. You grew into a big brother, with a love for your Jax like no other. My greatest happiness was watching you boys play in the sandbox or swimming pool in the backyard of the school-house, or on the giant snow piles Grandpa and Ewalt made you. I remember driving in the minivan and turning around to see you both sleeping and holding hands. You were each others best friends and my heart was full.
As the years passed, the sleeping while hand holding did too, but in its place, a deep love and respect for each other. Your adventures changed, but the love, joy, and the spark did not. Everything you did, you did with all your heart.
As you continued to grow you became a peace maker, a planner, and a leader with a joyful spirit that made others want to follow. Yet all the while still protecting and caring for your baby brother. When Jaxon was diagnosed with celiac disease, you were his keeper, making sure no one used his peanut butter, jam, or toaster.
Colby, you were my sunshine and my joy. And now when I go to town, people will quietly think to themselves, “There’s THAT poor lady who lost her son on his birthday”.
But Colby, what they won’t realize is I certainly am THAT LADY, THAT LADY who held the most wonderful and perfect boy in her arms for 18 years; and I will be THAT LADY who holds you in my heart until the day I die.
I am THAT LADY, blessed among all women.
Till I see you again, my sweet, my love, my Valentine.