On September 5th, 1997, Aaron died while at the babysitter’s house. A medical exam determined that he passed away due to aspiration of gastric contents – a strange event where some of the formula in his stomach was sucked into his lungs preventing him from breathing. He was 4 months and 3 days old. Shaun and I were both at work when we received a phone call from the Phoenix police. I was told to go to the hospital right away because my son was having trouble breathing. The car ride to the hospital was the longest in my life. As we made our way across town, we had no idea that he was already gone.
The day that Aaron died was without question the most painful day of my life. Hearing the ER doctor say “he didn’t make it” was the beginning of a nightmare. Every ounce of energy just drained from my body. I felt spineless and weak as if I was a shaking ball of gelatin lying on the floor. With help, I picked myself up and headed to the room to rock my son for the last time. He was lying naked under a white sheet with tubes still in him. That moment was a turning point. I was changed inside as if the person that I used to be was left on that cold hospital floor. Was this happening?
We were fortunate to get in contact with Joanne and MISS right away. A special friend of ours, Dave Johnson, happened to be the Pastor of the church that Joanne attended. He contacted her for advice. Because of this guidance, we decided to do things such as preparing Aaron for his viewing ourselves by dressing him and arranging his casket. We also set aside a special time so that we could hold him for the last time. I have a memory box with lots of things including a lock of his hair and the shirt that he wore the night before he died. It’s in a ziplock bag to preserve his smell. I’m not sure that I would have done these things if they weren’t suggested to me. I’m grateful that I did.
As days passed, the shock and numbness wore off and the anger appeared. I blamed everyone including God and myself. I felt betrayed. I felt guilty. I felt my son was cheated. I cried small weepy tears. I cried from places I didn’t know existed as I laid on the floor in complete darkness screaming out because my heart was broken…my innocence robbed from me. Then, there were times that I couldn’t cry – even when I wanted to. The guilt was overwhelming. I would lie in bed at night and wonder about his last moments. Did he cry? When he couldn’t breathe, did he wonder why I wasn’t there to help him? Does he know how much I love him?
Shortly after the funeral, we started attending monthly MISS meetings. Seeing other parents who knew what we were going through was very helpful for me. Becoming involved with MISS was probably the most crucial part of my healing. Volunteering for the outreach program, participating in the Kindness Project and maintaining Cherish Corner are important outlets.
After four years, the tears have been slowly replaced with smiles. I don’t feel guilty having happy moments or laughing at a joke that a friend told me. Acceptance has finally settled in and the pain, although still there, is muted. I have found answers to those questions I would ask myself. Yes, he knows that I love him. I can see the love in his smiles – those big beautiful smiles in our video and pictures. He wouldn’t question me being there for him. He knows that I wouldn’t hesitate to trade my life for his. He knows…
Aaron was my light…my sunshine boy. His smiles were so wonderful. It was as if he smiled with his entire body. I was especially proud to see my husband as a Dad. He and Aaron had such a wonderful bond. Daddy would fly him in the air and call him superbaby.
I have learned a lot from Aaron. I’ve learned that family is sacred. I appreciate each day that I have with my loved ones. He has made me love my husband more than ever. He has taught me to be a great mom to his younger sisters, Lauren (born October 1998) and Anna (born March 2001).
I truly believe that Aaron’s light has been my guide during this grief journey. I have felt his tiny presence along the way and he has helped me to find peace again. I love you, Aaron!
Aaron would have been 4 years old on May 2nd. We celebrated his birthday as a family event. Lauren chose a Pooh balloon for him. She also got to pick out his cake. “All by myself…for my brother Aaron”, she said. We all sang happy birthday to him wishing he were there to blow out the candles himself.
We made a recent move from Phoenix to Connecticut and are hoping to move Aaron to a cemetery close to home. We miss being able to visit his grave.
Heather Farrier
Aaron Lee Farrier’s mommy
Email: heather@atgproductions.com
My little son Aaron, who I always call Mr. Man. I will never forget the first time I held him in my arms. He was so small, and he looked so much like me it was scary! I had never felt anything like that before, I completely felt as one with him. At that moment I gave myself to him completely, and made being a good father and husband the most important thing in my life.
From the short time I had to spend with my son, certain memories will be with me until the day that I leave this earth. I will always remember his smile, the way he looked at me every morning when I woke him from his slumber, the feel of his tiny hand wrapped around my pinky finger, and of course his laughter. I have a very special bond with Mr. Man, one that will never subside.
When we were hit with the news that Aaron had passed away, I felt completely overwhelmed and totally in shock. My heart sank in a way I didn’t know was possible. I think my mind went into a numb phase, where I was in total disbelief for quite a while. I just couldn’t believe what had happened. He was so healthy and happy! Was this even possible? I felt completely apathetic, that absolutely nothing mattered, and that I would gladly give my life for his in return.
After almost four years since the worst day of my life, I still feel “weird”, not at all like the old Shaun inside. I still take every day as it comes, and still strive to keep Mr. Man an active member of my life. I love you and miss you Aaron!!!!
Shaun Farrier
Aaron Lee Farrier’s Daddy
