The summer before Deb’s son Josh died, he had gone to Space Camp. His goal was to be an astronaut.

“He had to write a paper in school on where he saw himself at age 30 and he actually saw himself as president of NASA. My outlook on life at that time was positive. Sometimes I could be a little cynical, but I always tried to help him to achieve his dreams.”

She then describes her outlook shift which involved immediate physical and mental anguish she began experiencing the day Josh passed away. Her world did not simply change, but instead began to crumble to pieces.

“It’s like your entire breath, just being sucked right out of you – everything all at one time- your breath being sucked out of you, the hole being ripped into your heart or even your heart being ripped out, your whole world shattering – all of that happening all at one time, to the point where you can’t even breathe. That’s just how it feels. Like somebody just gut punched you and knocked the wind right out of you. It’s kind of how I describe it to people. Losing him that day was like my whole world just fell apart. Even though I still had my daughter and my second husband, I still felt as though my whole world fell apart. It was … like an empty hole in my chest that I didn’t think would ever be filled. However, I’ve learned since that time, in a way, that hole won’t ever be filled, because that was a spot that was reserved just for him.”

After the initial shock, the mental pain continued to be ever-present for her. This also gave her an understanding of her son’s pain. She describes a time of deeply regrettable behavior that was caused by the intensity of her anguish. Amid this action, however, she was able to reach a new level of understanding regarding how others around her were also suffering.

“I had hoped that he would have gone on to be the president of NASA but I think his own inner torment and pain…he couldn’t see past that. And I can understand that because I’ve been at that place. I’ve had my own darkness and after this happened with Josh, I mean, yes, there were points in my life where I just didn’t care anymore. I didn’t care if I lived or died. But the one day…and I hate to even admit this, but I think that we need to be completely honest that we have these thoughts and these feelings…when my daughter and I were headed to our one counseling session and I was driving a little bit too fast.
And she said, “Mom, you’re scaring me slow down!” and I said, “I just don’t care anymore. I just don’t care if I live or die!” …and the terror in her face…when I think back on that day, that is the one thing that I regret, scaring her that bad that I can see that terror in her face. She had just lost her brother. She could not go through losing her mom, and my family is actually what keeps me doing what I’m doing. And not just my family, but other people’s families because I think that it’s something that’s important that we need to have.”

She will never forget that intense emotional and physical distress that immediately followed the loss of her son. Those feelings stay with het and motivate her to keep moving forward.

“I could not put my family through that, no matter how dark I get. I will find a way to get through it somehow and if I need to phone a friend to help me through something that I’m going through then that’s what I’m going to do. If I need to make an appointment with a counselor, then I will see a counselor. Whatever, whatever that is, I will do it because I could not put my family through that again. …not by choice.”