Edy had been sick for a long time. I mean, we knew he was terminal and could pass at any time. But, it still shocked me as I saw him go. Edy had a cycle. He would get really sick sometimes, to the point where we would not think he would make it through the night. There were multiple nights when I lived in the home, where I would say a goodbye to Edy before I went to bed because I did not think I would see him alive again. Or sometimes I would wake up in the middle of the night and I could not go back to bed until I checked on him. He would even have signs of his organs shutting down, but he always pulled through. Every time. One time, I was up for nap time and Edy stopped breathing. Jay and I ran to him and held him, but he continued to not breath. We were starting to worry because he was just turning more and more blue. This continued for about two minutes. At this point, Jay and I are sobbing and saying goodbye. And right as we are about to go tell everyone he was gone, he started breathing. This is what I mean when I say he always pulls through. I and others would whisper to him, "Edy, it is okay, we love you, you can go now." We wanted him out of pain.
But then, May 2, he finally let go. I came over to the house that day for water therapy, but it ended up having to be cancelled because they did not have enough help to do it. So, instead we go to make breakfast and we hear someone yell, "Guys, Edy is doing bad." We ran into the living room and Jay grabbed him and laid him on the changing table. A few interns, Jay, Taryn, and I surrounded him. Jay held him and I held his hand as he finally left this world to be whole with his creator. I felt like I had been punched in the gut, as I sobbed. I thought I was ready, I mean I even prayed some days that God take him because of how much pain he was in, but I was not ready, I mean I do not think I really ever would have been ready for that. But especially not then. Even when I was holding his hand watching him leave this world, part of me was still believing he would pull through. It wrecked me. The boy I had held countless nights at 3 A.M. because I was afraid to leave in him his bed because his breathing so bad, was dead. I still cry as I type that. And then, we had to tell the other kids who would understand, that their brother died. Most did not really know how to cope with that kind of pain, so they will just starting crying and say someone hit them. They hurt, but do not understand why.
I loved that boy more than words can say. Yes, I know I am going to see him again one day. And yes I know he is in a better place. I know and have said these things to myself so many times. This does not make me miss him any less. And right when I think the hurt is dying down, I see a little boys jacket and all I can think of is that would be so cute on Edy. I want to get that for him. And then I remember. Someone at the funeral was talking about, if only they could touch as many people as Edy did. No, he could not talk. No, he could not walk. But, pretty much everyone who walked through the doors fell in love with Edy, and was touched to see him smile and laugh when they knew of the pain he endured. He still had joy. And his laugh was one of my favorite sounds to ever hear. I and others here, struggle every day with moving on with him being gone. But, we also know just how blessed we were to get to spend as much time as we did with him.
Thank you to everyone who has supported me so that I can be here and work here. I cannot thank you enough. If you are interested in partnering with me through finances, you can through hopeforhome.org There you will press ”Donate” and under “Individual/Family Support” you will find my name. The other options are sending a check to Hope For Home Ministries, PO BOX 393, Troy, Ohio 45373, or through venmo, which my name is “Kelsie-wester”. Thank you again for everyone’s prayers over my life.
Kelsie Wester
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