Todd Was Not There

The next day we drove over to the funeral home early. Much to my surprise, there were teenagers already in the parking lot waiting. We walked up the ramp into the funeral home. I started to shake. I don't know if it was from the cold or just my nerves. I felt a knot in my stomach.

I wasn't sure if I could stand to look at Todd. I walked over to the casket. At that moment, I had the strangest feeling. Yes, this body looked like Todd, in a way. He had on the black stone-washed jeans, blue striped shirt, cranberry sweater. His letterman jacket was lying beside his body, but Todd was not there. My Todd was gone! I was sure of it! What I was looking at was only a body, but the real Todd wasn't there anymore.

 I couldn't understand or explain it. I'd seen many dead people over the years. However, I'd never had this feeling before. My Aunt Carmeleta walked up to stand by me. I looked at her and said, "Todd's gone, and I don't know where he is." She said something to the effect that Todd was right there, but I knew, and no one could tell me any differently, that he was gone.

I was astonished at the number of people who came to the calling hours. We hadn't lived in Dover all that long. We had moved so many times, leaving people I cared about behind. Because of that, I didn't try to get very close with people. Todd, I felt, had done the same thing. After all, we had each other, so it didn't matter.

I knew some of the people who came, but many I didn't know. Teenagers kept walking up and talking. Many felt that Todd was their best friend. I thought that was special. I could feel the love and compassion people were showing me. I started to invite many of the teenagers over to the house.

Andrew, a cross-country running friend, asked if he could put some running metals in the casket with Todd. Andrew said he wanted Todd to have them because he knew that Todd would have won many; had he been able to run again. Andrew felt he would win more for himself.

Todd's actual funeral service was held in Lapeer, Michigan, even though we lived in Dover, Ohio, at the time. We decided to have Todd buried in Lapeer because Bill grew up there, and his folks were still living in Lapeer. We'd moved so many times we didn't feel we had a hometown.

Tim Michel, a good friend of Todd's, flew to Lapeer from Indiana. Todd and Tim went to Georgetown Elementary together and played football in the 5th and 6th grades. They had formed quite a bond.

Aunt Carmeleta had sent me a Christian music tape for Christmas one year. I'd played it several times when Todd was learning to drive in the van. I chose a couple of songs off of that tape to be played at Todd's funeral. One-piece was "Under His Wings," and the other one was "Because He Lives, I Can Face Tomorrow." I find it interesting the choice of songs I chose. I have to believe deep down I knew that a personal relationship with the Lord was what I was looking for even then.

The service was nice enough; I have no idea what was said, though. I know Aunt Carmeleta wrote something for the minister to read. Before I knew it, the service was over.

 I had brought Snooks, Todd's favorite stuffed animal, with me. I waited until everyone was gone then took Snooks out of the bag. Snooks had been a special part of Todd's life ever since he was a baby. Todd even took good ol' battered Snooks, with his one black and one navy blue ear, on all family vacations. I knew Todd would want to have Snooks with him. I carefully put Snooks in Todd's arms and kissed him one last time, and whispered, "I love you, Todd."

The Beginning Of The Slow Healing Process

There was a raging battle going on in my mind. My mind was still refusing to accept that Todd was gone. I could not comprehend that he was dead. I always saw everything through a haze. I kept telling myself, "I'm going to wake up any minute. I must be in a nightmare." But as much as I didn't want to believe this was happening, I found myself forced to deal with the reality of it whenever the phone rang.

It came time to make the arrangements with the funeral home. The funeral director asked us to pick out the clothes we wanted Todd to wear; then bring them with us when we came to pick out the casket.

My mind went off at the very thought. One side was screaming, "This is some sick joke! I won't believe it!" However, the other side was saying softly, "This is true; you must believe and accept it."

I walked downstairs to Todd's room. I looked through his clothes. Although I wanted to keep the clothes I chose for him to wear, I gathered them anyway. Picking out Todd's clothes made me feel sick, but I believe it was an essential part of the slow healing process.

We drove over to the funeral home. A very kind man took us to a room full of caskets. I had never seen anything like it. We chose a beautiful wooden one. As I walked around, still with a haze over my eyes, my mind kept racing. There was this frantic side saying, "I need to get out of here! This situation can't be real!" Then the calming quiet side would say, "Why are you here if this is not real?"

At some point, we were asked what kind of background music we would like to be played at the calling hours. I said, "We aren't religious people so just play some secular music."

When I went to bed at night, I felt a tremendous weight on my chest. I could hardly breathe. Now in the privacy of the bedroom, my emotions were starting to come out. I began to sob and sob.

When I took my bath, I would close the glass doors and sob. I believe part of this crying alone was because I didn't want to upset Shannon or Brandon. I was doing my best to hold it together for them, on the one hand, but I was still in denial that Todd was dead on the other. I kept wanting to believe Todd was going to walk through the back door at any time.

Little Did I Know Then ...

The phone rang. When I answered it, I heard the voice of one of the boys Todd had gone sledding with. "Mrs. Heitsch, there's been a terrible accident." "What, did Todd get hurt on the sled?" I asked. "No" was his only reply. There was a long pause. "Where are you?" I started to feel half sick. "We're on County Road 81 near Zoar."

I had no idea where County Road 81 was. We had only lived in the area for a little while. I thought Todd and the boys were going sledding in town on Dice Hill. How did they get out in the country?

I called Bill at work. I didn't have a car since Bill had one and Todd had the other. Bill would need to find County Road 81. Bill told his office girl, Wendy, what I had said. Wendy knew exactly where County Road 81 was. I called Shannon, who was visiting her friend Amanda who lived across the street. I told her she would need to come home and watch Brandon. I told her, "Something has happened to Todd."

I started to do what I normally did when I was upset; I got the vacuum out and began to clean.

Amanda called her mom, Judy, at work, and she came home. Judy came running over to the house. Judy suggested we go to the hospital. She was sure they would take Todd there if he was hurt; I agreed and jumped into her car. Judy dropped me off at the Emergency Room door, and she parked the car.

When I walked into the Emergency Room, I didn't recognize anyone I knew, but everyone seemed to know me when I gave my name. At once, all eyes were on me. Then just as suddenly, everyone's eyes dropped to the floor. Not realizing it, I'm sure, their heads began to shake in a negative motion. The clincher came when I was not asked how I planned to pay, but rather if I would please wait in a small room where the doctor would come and talk with me.

Judy came rushing in after parking the car, Immediately she asked, "What's going on?" I told her I knew Todd was dead. I remember her saying, "Did someone tell you that?" I said, "No, but look at how people are acting. I can certainly read body language"

The nurse came around the desk and took us to the small room to wait. The doctor and Bill walked into the room about the same time; I looked up. I don't remember what the doctor actually said, but I was right; Todd was dead.

When I heard the doctor's words, instantly everything seemed to be covered with a haze. I sat staring into space. After a few minutes, I got up and slowly walked out of the room. I couldn't believe this was happening. I felt like I was watching this sad scene playing out in front of me, but I wasn't a part of it.

As we walked towards the Emergency Room door, I saw people I knew who worked at the hospital. The news that Todd had died must have spread. I saw several kind-hearted people, but I said nothing. You never know how you will react when tragedy strikes. I thought I would have screamed and yelled; I did neither.

We drove home in silence. I walked into the house in a daze. I stood at the kitchen sink where the now thawed chicken still sat. "This must be some kind of a nightmare! I can't believe this is happening! This is not true! I won't believe it!" These words were screaming in my brain.

"Later Mom"

Todd and I always had a very close relationship. Since Bill was working long hours and moving as we did, it was hard to make close friends. Todd and I became best friends. He would sit on the counter in the kitchen talking to me while I cooked. I never had to ask Todd to help around the house; he always pitched right in. Todd and Shannon got along so well that Indiana neighbors remarked on their great brother/sister relationship.

When Brandon came along, Todd spent a lot of time with him. It wasn't unusual when Brandon began walking to hear him get out of his bed and walk downstairs to sleep with Todd. I knew when I was gone, Todd would take excellent care of Shannon and Brandon.

Todd and I enjoyed walking together and talking. We would take Brandon in the stroller on our walks. Todd would push the stroller up the hills, and I would push the stroller on the flat roads.

Among the many things we talked about on our walks were these tips from Dr. Peale's books. Todd seemed to be getting into these ideas too. He had a journal and wrote some of the quotes from one of the books in it.

When February 6th, 1988 came along, I told Todd that we should do what we could to make it a great day. The year before, on February 6th, hadn't been too great. I wasn't about to sit around having another pity party. I'd been reading Dr. Peale's books, and I was determined to have this overcoming life these other people had I was reading about.

I told Todd we should do something special this year on February 6th, something we hadn't done before to make the day great. Todd agreed and was quickly on the phone making plans to go sledding with some friends. Around noon Todd walked to the back door. Brandon was crying, wanting to go with Todd. I was standing at the kitchen sink trying to defrost a frozen chicken that I planned to make that evening. With a point of his finger, Todd said, "Later, Mom." Little did I know then how much later that would be.

My Search Intensifies

Over the next few years, we moved many times and lived in several states. My dad had been sick for quite some time. He had developed emphysema and lung cancer from all his years of smoking. Dad lived in Michigan, so making the trip home to visit him was quite a long haul.

Dad was in and out of the hospital. When Dad was released from the hospital, I would drive 9 hours to check on him. I'd try to make sure he had what he needed. Dad wanted to stay in his own home; he was adamant about not going to a nursing home.

My mom had died many years before, and I'm an only child. Neil, who was a great friend to my dad, came to my rescue. Neil would call and stop in every day to make sure Dad was okay. Neil and I stayed in touch by phone, so I knew what was going on. I was now pregnant with Brandon. Driving the 9 hours to Michigan made the trip interesting. I knew every rest area along the way. My dad lived to see Brandon. Dad died on February 6, 1986.

The first year on the anniversary of my dad's death, I was down. No one called to share my grief, and I said to myself, "Well, who would call? You're an orphan!" This day did not go well, as you can tell.

After the first anniversary of dad's death, my search to fill this void inside me intensified. For some strange reason, I thought I was going to die. I began watching the TV program, The Hour Of Power.

I knew I was on to something with these Dr. Peale books.

I wanted Todd to get an understanding of what these books were about. I'd read the books, then I'd type the tips I thought would help Todd. As odd as it was for me to do, I started to type, "I can do all things through Christ who gives me the strength." Philippians 4:13 at the bottom of the typed pages.

I thought if I died, Todd would share these ideas from Dr. Peale's books with Shannon and Brandon.

I Think I'm On To Something

I wasn't much of a reader back in those days, but I started to go to the public library for some reason. I decided I would look for books on "self-help." I felt maybe I could find something to fill this empty feeling I had inside. I went up and down all the aisles.

Finally, I stop in the Psychology section. I selected several books from many different authors. Most of the books were meaningless. I really got nothing out of them. However, one particular author really seems to have what I was looking for. His name was Dr. Norman Vincent Peale. I figured he was a psychologist or a medical doctor of some kind.

Dr. Peale's books started to show me a new way of thinking and living. I read all the books in the psychology section by Dr. Peale. I wondered if he might have other books in the library, too; I decided to check.

Much to my surprise, Dr. Peale's books were also under the "Religion" section. One thing I knew, for sure, it was not a religion I was looking for. Even though I knew I wasn't looking for "religion," I checked out more of Dr. Peale's books from the "Religion" section.

There was something different about these books. Dr. Peale quoted some Bible texts, and I could see how the Bible was really a very practical book. I'd never seen it that way before. I really felt I was on to something.

An Emptiness Deep Inside

I don't remember thinking about walking by faith again until many years later. In fact, I was in my late thirties when I actually asked the Lord to start helping me find my way home. Before that time, I stumbled along in life, blindly trying to find my way. I wasn't sure back then where my final destination would be. I just wanted to make it through each day. I always had an emptiness deep inside that nothing I tried filled.

During my teens, twenties, and early thirties, I had brief encounters with the Lord. At one of the lowest points in my late teens the song, "Jesus Loves Me This I Know" came to mind. I couldn't believe Jesus would love me the way I was living. But I know now that He did.

After our daughter, Shannon, was born, I had an experience that slowly started to point me in the right direction. I was now in my middle twenties. I had a dream, or I would actually call it a nightmare, that woke me up in a cold sweat. I will never forget it. I was in a dark, gloomy, dirty city. People were walking around lifeless and filled with hate, treating each other in despicable ways. I was right along with them. Everyone was miserable and very unhappy. I woke up in a cold sweat, my heart was pounding, I was really shaken! Could this be what the hell was like? I couldn't get the nightmare out of my mind. I knew I didn't want this to be my final destination. As I moved into my early thirties, I was still looking for something to fill my emptiness. I knew what I'd tried in the past hadn't worked.

The Beginning Of The Journey

Have you ever started out on a journey not knowing the way? You know what your final destination will be, but you have no idea how long it will take. Well, that's the way the journey of faith is with the Lord. At some point, we know our final destination will be at home with Him. However, the way home can take many turns with all kinds of weather conditions.

Some turns on the journey are to the right; when we turn that way, we feel we are making fast progress. Other turns are to the left; we're not so sure this is the way. We climb some small hills; however, we can make them into significant mountains by our thinking. When that happens, it takes longer to get over them. Other times we really run into a mountain. We shift into a lower gear and start the climb.

On the journey, we have days of sunshine. We bask in the sun and feel the warmth of its rays. There are cloudy days that we think will never end. Then there is rain, oh yes, there is rain from a slight drizzle to a downpour. Every so often, there are hurricanes, earthquakes, or some other major disaster that makes us feel we have been kicked right in the stomach. The faith journey is an adventure, that's for sure, with all kinds of weather conditions.

My simple faith journey started many years ago. My first memory of walking by faith came on a walk to town. I'd walked downtown to buy something at the grocery store for my mom. When I reached into my pocket for the money she had given me, I couldn't find it. I ran home in tears. Mom and I retraced my steps; as we walked, we talked. Mom said if we found the money, that would be great. However, if we didn't, then the Lord knew someone needed it more than we did. Either way, I could see it was in the Lord's hands. My faith journey started at that moment.