I thought that I would back up a little bit with this weeks post. I reference my son Kory and his death in my posts, but many of you do not know our story.  You will be able to read the actual events of that night in detail in my upcoming book, but I wanted to give you a few details to help you understand my journey and a little glimpse of the book about him and our experience with his death and after. 

Kory James Paries was my third son. He was a great kid. I mean really! He was 16 years old. It is rare treat in this world to have the privilege of having special souls come into your life that brings you only great joy. I was blessed with that rare experience in my life. My sons were wonderful! I was really lucky and humbled to raise such incredible men. It has been a great honor to be their mother. They never gave me any problems. They were just a joy in my life. It is really painful when you lose someone that made you so happy. Kory was a joy from the time he was born. 

On December 23, 2002 Kory and my youngest son Kris, and Kory’s friend Rhys, had attended the movie, “Lord of the Rings, Two Towers.” They were driving home in a terrible rain storm when a couple of miles from our home, on Jeff Road at Kelly Farms the car hydroplaned and hit a hundred old cedar tree. The impact was on Kory’s driver’s door, killing him instantly. The time of his death was 11:45 on that fateful night. My son died a few minutes before Christmas Eve unfolded at a farm named after my first name. It is a strange coincidence. 

I have decided to give you the portion in my book that describes my finding out about the accident. It is a portion of Chapter 3, and how my Christmas Eve in 2002 unfolded. It is a hard thing to write. It took me five years after Kory’s death before I could write the story. Last year I had to edit this chapter at Christmas while working with my editor. I sat with a box of Kleenex and wrote. I can’t even write this blog post without tears streaming down my face. It doesn’t matter how much we learn about death. It still hurts. Grief is an expression of love. I really, loved Kory!

 

Chapter 3: Christmas Eve 2002.

Kyle pulled up to the door of the hospital emergency room. I jumped out of the car, and he went to park it. The circular doors opened and deposited me in the lobby of the emergency room. The nurse’s desk was empty. I looked over to my right and saw a few people, some sitting and some lying down, dozing in the vinyl chairs. The scene was familiar—a typical emergency room lobby, identical to any of my previous visits to a hospital ER. But this felt so different.

I stood there frozen in confusion. I had just been told my son had been killed, yet no one was there to help me. Where do I go? What do I do?

A few moments later, a nurse came out and looked at me with great concern. “Are you Mrs. Paries?”

“Yes, I am Mrs. Paries,” I answered woodenly.

“Please follow me.” We walked past the waiting room. The people sitting there all looked up as we went into the big automatic doors. I felt bad for them and knew they were probably wondering why I got to go before them. I mean, after all, they had probably been there for a while. Now they would continue waiting—and waiting. For the first time in my life, I wanted to be them. I wanted to be waiting in the emergency-room waiting area, not being whisked away as soon as I arrived.

Ahead was a typical ER with places to wait. We turned right, down a hall. Wait, why I am not being taken to the emergency beds? You know, the ones behind the curtains! This is not what usually happens. She should be taking me the other direction. My steps slowed. I wanted to go to the emergency beds, where I could sit on a hard plastic chair and wait to see a doctor. That was the normal routine. After waiting, someone would come in and tell me that everything would be okay, and here is your prescription. Your son will feel better in a couple of hours. But she wasn’t taking me there. She took me to a door. A normal-looking door. The door that had a family consultation sign on it. She gave me a kind smile and opened the door for me. I held my breath and walked into a room…and that’s when my whole world fell completely apart. Randy had arrived earlier and was waiting for us in the room with another nurse. He was sobbing uncontrollably. Confused, I sat down and focused on the nurse.

“Mrs. Paries?” she asked.

“Yes,” I whispered in horror as I took Randy’s hand. She was young, fresh, and blond, with her hair pulled back in a ponytail. She had kind eyes, as kind as her voice. I could tell this was not an easy task for her. She looked sad and her countenance was filled with compassion for us.

“Mrs. Paries, your sons were involved in a car accident. I am sorry, but your son Kory did not survive the impact in the accident.”

“What do you mean?” I implored. In my heart I was thinking, Oh, she is wrong, too. They will see. They will all see. This is not happening! I had so many questions. I first needed to know where Kory was. I wanted to go see him, take care of him, and show them it was a mistake. It would be a Christmas miracle. It would be my Christmas miracle. You hear stories about that all the time.

The nurse gently explained that Kris had been brought to the hospital by MedFlight. He was unconscious, with a head injury. “Kris is here, and he is having a CT scan of his head. You can see him when he is finished.”

“Okay,” I answered quietly. “But what happened to Kory?” My eyes filled with tears, and hers did the same.

“Kory is still at the accident site,” she explained.

“Why?” I grabbed a tissue, dabbed at my eyes, took a deep breath, and looked at Randy. He was beyond distraught.

The sweet nurse gently continued to explain. “The car Kory was driving hydroplaned in the heavy rain. It went off the road and hit a tree, with the impact of the crash on the driver’s door. The impact was so tremendous that the tree ended up in the center of the car. Kory died on impact.”

“I don’t understand how that could be.”

She winced slightly, then regained her professional demeanor. “He probably had the arteries torn from his heart immediately. That’s usually the case with a driver’s-side impact of this scale.”

My mind tried to register this. I couldn’t. This kid was in such incredible shape. He was muscular and played the position of defense man in his travel midget hockey team. Kory was a beautiful boy and looked like a model. We had been asked many times when we were out as a family if people could take pictures of him. I just sat there, numb, trying to make sense of all this information that was so not welcome and which made little sense to me. I had this overwhelming need to see Kory. I needed to take care of him! He was my baby, and I wanted to hold him, touch him, and make them see…make them see…that it was a mistake! He couldn’t be in the car! He couldn’t! It was dark, and it was raining! And…and he was out in the rain! If he were hurt, he wouldn’t be out in the rain! All these irrational thoughts flew through my mind so fast.

I hope that after hearing about a very small part of my story, that I learned without a shadow of doubt that even in the darkest hour we are never left alone and without divine comfort. I held onto my faith with both hands and wonderful, healing, experiences flowed into my life.

We will be back next week!