So it’s that time of year again… the time when I bring up a subject that finds itself surrounded with hundreds of thousands of feelings and each year, seems to have an impact on my life in some form or fashion. Yes, the anniversary of Reiley’s death will make it’s seventh appearance in my life in just a few short weeks.

Mathew “Reiley” White was born August 13, 1999 at 5:13 am in Midland, Texas. He was 6 weeks premature, however weighed 5 pounds, zero ounces and was 18 and 1/2 inches long. Under the circumstances, he was a fairly healthy young man; only staying a total of 4 days in the hospital after his birth.

Shortly after he was born, it was requested that I move to Evanston and help care for my mom and brother while I moved forward with my own life. I accepted the offer and at 6 weeks old, Reiley took his first flight across country. We arrived at Salt Lake City airport and then took our drive into Evanston to begin life anew. Our life was fairly basic and we had a routine down to an art. There wasn’t anything that could have thrown a wrench in our daily activities; or at least I had thought.

Early in the morning of April 9, 2000; I came home from work and after picking Reiley up from his sitters and pulled into the driveway like any other night, however, it wasn’t like any other night. There were two police cars, parked on either side of the driveway with their lights on and an ambulance backed in shortly after I pulled in. Instantly, I knew that something was seriously wrong with my mom. I ran through the door, and went upstairs. The paramedics were loading my mom onto a stretcher as she was struggling to breathe worse than I had ever seen before. They left and I couldn’t sleep afterwards. I wanted to be at the hospital with my mom, however, I knew that I had to be home; with my son and my younger brother.

It was sometime around 6 that they stabilized my mom and she was “in the clear” this time round. I managed to ghost through the day with the lack of sleep and managed to catch a very short nap when Reiley took his nap that day. We ate ham, mashed potatoes and green beans for dinner that night. Reiley even took part in the feast. We went to sleep sometime around 830 or 9 that night and when the morning came, I awoke in horror that Reiley hadn’t gotten up during the night.

I let out the most horrific blood curdling scream that was heard from the street after I turned on the lights to find my son, my angel, gone. I picked him up and ran straight for my mom’s room, expecting her to be there and to make it all better. My baby brother came in and gave me one cordless phone as I called 9-1-1. I began CPR and my brother made a call from the other phone line, which brought Gary speeding back into Evanston from Carter Creek.

At the point when the first officer arrived, he asked me if I wanted to continue CPR, and there was no way I could continue at that point. I had reached my breaking point and all I could do was cry and beg for them to bring my son back to me. The paramedics checked Reiley out, and pronounced him dead on arrival. They offered numerous times to take me to the hospital, and I kept telling them no, all I wanted was my mom – ironically; who was at the hospital.

That day lives in my memory and provides me with crystal clear images as this anniversary rolls around. I miss my son terribly. I often find myself lost in thought as to what he would be like today, who his friends would be and had it not been for his death, how my life could have been different.

Reiley is my angel – he was my angel on earth and changed me into the person I am, from the person I once was. He will always have a very special and sincere place in my heart and life. I will never forget all that Reiley gave to me all the while making drastic changes I didn’t fully understand until many years later.

Although now I have an absolutely amazing little boy in my life, Jaden, who means the world to me, I still miss my son and still yearn for him in my life. As each anniversary passes, they do become much easier to bear, however, the pain of that wound still carries a powerful bite that brings me to tears at times.