I’ve written before about what it’s like for me now to see a photograph of my son that I’ve never seen before.
It’s wonderful.
It’s horrible.
It’s wonderful.
This week, an old friend of mine emailed me with two photos she recently found of Henry. These were taken at her daughter D’s birthday party. D and Henry were absolute bestest pals in preschool and early elementary school until she and her parents moved away to Florida. Henry really missed D for a very long time.
D is now a gorgeous, creative, healthy, quirky young woman. – she’s 20 now, I think. A year older than Henry. I love looking at her photos on Facebook and seeing what she’s growing up to become. And it hurts to see them, too.
These are the photos D’s mom emailed to me. This was Henry at age 5. In the second one, that’s me sitting beside him. I always had my fingers in his hair like that until the day he died because I thought his hair was so perfectly wonderful.
It was really awful to see his hair all shaved off in those last few days in the hospital. The incredibly kind, loving barber who came to his hospital room to shave his head kept cheerfully reassuring Henry, my sister Betsy and me as he worked that it would all grow right back. But all three of us knew it never would.
I wish so much that all those people saying those awful things about my boy over in the Knoxville News Sentinel online newspaper comments this week could have known Henry as a real person, and not as some kind of abstraction as part of the news cycle. He never, ever would have said ugly, pointlessly cruel things like that about someone he didn’t know…or someone he did know. He really wouldn’t have. He just wasn’t like that. You can ask ANYONE who knew Henry in any context and they will tell you how remarkably kind he was. He might have been addicted to drugs, but he was never mean-spirited or ugly toward others.
14 Responses to “Henry, Interrupted”
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I haven’t read any of the comments on that newspaper site, but I just want to tell you these photos are wonderful – and they break my heart. I have a boy who’s nearly three-and-a-half and another baby boy. The innocence of Henry in these photos – and you as a mother, just wanting to touch him – it’s so touching, and so painful. I am in this phase now, and as wonderful as it is, I worry beyond belief about the future, their future. I think about you every day and I’m so very sorry.
As a mom of two kids about the same age as Henry, and as a mom who has followed his story almost from the beginning… my heart is heavy for you with these bittersweet memories. I’m so thankful you have many, many wonderful memories of what an awesome young man Henry was. I’m sure the last few years were difficult, but were still filled with many happy, memorable times. Hang on to those, Katie. We are grieving with you and may God continue to give you the strength to press on. Thank you for your willingness to be raw, open and honest.
I just want to reach into those cute pictures and squeeze him.
From the side like that, in that second picture — that looks like NC’s profile to me!
Katie – my heart breaks for you & your family everytime I read your blogs. While I understand the point of view that people with addictions need to be held responsible for their problems (though it seems to me they pay dearly each day with their struggles), I agree whole heartedly with you that the dealers need to be held accountable. Selling drugs that destroy lives and families shouldn’t be an easy way to make cash.
On the note of readers posting cruel comments, I read a post today that made me think of you (on Pajiba, of all places – link: http://www.pajiba.com/celebrities_are_better_than_you/the-ungrateful-dead-and-the-judgmental-living-why-celebrity-deaths-bring-out-the-worst-in-us.php). Specifically:
“an excellent point was brought up in the comments for yesterday’s Pajiba Love, the post that obviously inspired this. Ms. Anna von Beav made mention that, for a number of people, junkies are not people.”
All of those people who left those senseless, cruel comments have forgotten that fact. As someone who just lost a family member to their alcoholism, I can earnestly say that it doesn’t matter in the least at the end if they had an addiction – all that matters is that they were someone’s son/daughter, mother/father, sister/brother, friend and loved one. And whatever addictions they had at the end, do not define who they were over the span of their lifetime.
And so my thoughts often go to you and your thick haired music loving son – and I hope you and your family eventually get legal closure and justice so that you can focus on plain old mourning and celebrating his life without this hanging over you all.
Sorry, distracted typing!! Obviously meant to say those readers “forgot the fact that they ARE people”.
I know this is somewhat of an empty statement but as much as I hate how cruel some people have been to you and your family with their comments, I truly believe there is infinitely more love and positivity coming towards you than negative. Your wonderful son has many many more people that think about him almost on a daily basis and we send our anonymous love to his spirit and to your whole family. I wish you could shut off those hurt feelings and focus on all that love because it is here. We are here to love Henry…
These pictures brought me to tears at my desk. I have a two year old boy (and another on the way) and I can just see him sitting there, in a plain t shirt and shorts, looking just like Henry.
There are so many drug users who turn into ugly people when they begin to use and I know several of them. I also know a few who are the kindes,t gentlest people you will ever meet. Addicts who hate themselves for being so weak and who wouldn’t wish the pain of addiction upon anyone. From everything you’ve written, Henry was one of the those beautiful, kind people.
I’m so sorry about the ugly comments from people. Even if they do not agree with you, there is no reason to tear down you or Henry’s memory. I have several addicts in my immediate family and I appreciate the work Henry’s Fund is doing to help people with recovery. Thank you.
You shouldn’t bother to waste your time, energy, or emotions with those absurd, hateful, ill-informed comments. No one deserves venom like that, especially not the grieving mother of a murder victim. And all that nonsense directed at you specifically as a parent? Let me just say that I feel I have some idea why Henry would never have said things like that to hurt anyone…: Because YOU taught him to be a better, kinder, more compassionate person than that. Always remember that.
Praying for you every day. xoxo
Katie, you might just want to skip reading those disturbing comments. You can always ask someone else to check them out and let you know if there are any you shouldn’t miss.
I don’t know why people feel the need to be so cruel in an anonymous forum.
My local paper is full of bizarre reader comments and I no longer read them. Some people must need a “creative” outlet — I fear they are quite lonely.
I think every local paper has a handful of weirdos who come to be racist/cruel/sexist/mean… or all of the above. They are broken people who enjoy the misery of others.
I read those comments. Those people are unhappy and broken. Why else would someone spend their time writing hurtful things to someone they never met? Please don’t waste your time taking any of their venom seriously.
Your Henry was beautiful. I see my own son in him. And I will be certain his life and lessons won’t be forgotten.
He was and always will be your sweet beautiful boy. Thanks for sharing these pics, they always make me smile. He was beautiful, your Henry, he really was.
Reading a few of the comments in the KNS, before I had to stop because my stomach was turning over, made me long for the days when newspapers just reported on something. When there wasn’t the added “share your comment” part, where people can write such ugly things. Ignore them, they didn’t know your son, so they are writing fiction.
He was an adorable little guy. I, too, get misty eyed at the pictures and memories of all of the young adults I knew as little ones How much simpler things were then. How much I did not know.
I marvel at how you you report all of the cuteness of your two little ones with such fresh joy even as you have had to deal with all of these terrible issues this year.