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This letter was written so that parents like us could be recognized.


Dear Oprah Winfrey, My name is Marcia Arreola and I live in Cerritos, California. I am writing this letter in hopes that you can help me and other mothers like myself who struggle everyday with the loss of a child. So often there are shows that portray the loss of the loved ones through violence, drugs, or some other tragedy in life. How about those of us who have lost our child with no one to blame and nowhere to turn for support.



It was Friday, December 19th, 2003 myself and my 2 daughters were in attending my sisters wedding. Jonathan, my son, who was 19 at the time, was going to meet us at the reception with his friend later that evening. We arrived at the reception about 6:00 p.m. in the city of West Covina and began to enjoy the celebration of my newly wedded sister. I kept glancing at the door as each guest arrived waiting for my son to be there. Guest after guest and no Jonathan. As time passed things became sullen, no one was really dancing and even my mother was off in the corner not feeling well. About 9:10 my mother asked me to go to the restroom with her.



I gladly went along and remember saying to her that the restroom was so far away. We had to leave the room and exit down an outside hallway to reach it. As the music faded away and I entered the restroom and my oldest daughter, Amanda, came running through the door with her cell phone in hand. She said, “It’s my dad, it’s an emergency.” My heart fell and in that moment I knew it was about my son. From that moment on everything is a blur but with one deep breath I knew what was ahead. I reached for he phone and I remember my ex-husband saying that Jonatha has been in an accident and to meet him there, they are taking him to UCI.~UCIs trauma hospital in the City of Orange about 20 miles away from where I stood. I ran back to the reception and gathered my belongings and my youngest child Andrea and told my family of the accident as I was running to the car. My friend drove my girls and me to the hospital. What should have taken 20 minutes took an eternity. I remember speaking to Jonathan’s father again and saying “is he dead?” He said, “ I don’t know, it’s really bad.” I finally arrived at the hospital and as I entered the emergency room I saw a gurney outside covered with blood, I turned to my friend and said “That’s Jonathan’s blood” she tried to reassure me that it wasn’t, but as a mother you know. At that that time all I could think was that my son was dead and how could God have forsaken me. I finally was able to enter the room in which Jonathan lay. There was blood being pumped into him as quickly as it was coming out through a tube on the other side. I did not recognize the body that lay there, it wasn’t until I looked at his feet did I know that it was my child, my son, the boy I had raised, the man I would never see again. I stood there numb. On his side was his father sitting in a chair just staring with no expression but that of someone who’s life would never be the same. As I stood in that room all I could do is ask God why? The doctor came in and I said, “I know you do this everyday but please don’t let him die, he is my only son.” The doctor’s only words to me were “he’s very sick.” In that moment I felt my world come crashing down and I went numb. We were transferred upstairs to CCU, the Critical Care Unit; Jonathan was placed in a room with what seem like a hundred tubes running out of his body. As the next several hours passed family members came and went to see Jonathan. Several times I was sure that he could hear all that we were saying but just could not answer. His head was swollen and he no longer looked like the boy I knew but his hands and feet remained the same and I never lost sight of the beautiful boy he was.



As time went by I began to notice something protruding from his ear. I knew then that it hadto be his brain. I told Jonathan to ask God for another chance if he feltthat he was going to recover. I never asked God to leave him; if I had itwould have been for my own selfish reasons. I knew my son would not want to remain here on earth in a body that was no longer functional. He had too much life and love left to be restrained to a bed for the rest of his life. Somewhere in the early morning of the 20th the doctors came in and told my-ex-husband and my self that they need to talk to us and took us to another room. At this point his father had never left his side. As the doctors were explaining to us that they would have to remove the tubes because Jonathan was brain dead, it wasn’t a matter of “if” but “when.” What I did not know is that Amanda was in Jonathan’s room at this time, before we could give the doctor’s our answer a nurse walked and said “you don’t have decide Jonathan decided for you, his heart stopped.” My daughter watched her brother die in that room and to this day I will never know how it has affected her. Jonathan never again regained consciousness nor did I ever have an opportunity to tell my son good-bye.



Jonathan had borrowed his dad’s SUV for the evening to drive his friend (girl) to the reception. Jonathan decided to head in the opposite direction of the reception to the beach instead. He was traveling along a two-lane highway. He was heading south and for some unknown reason he hit the center divider. As he tried to regain control of the vehicle he struck the center divider again and the vehicle flipped. He and his friend were ejected from the vehicle. Jonathan was thrown 15 feet and his passenger 70 feet. The passenger survived the accident due to the fact that Jonathan’s skull was crushed on the initial flip of the vehicle and was not ejected until the second flip. This was a single vehicle accident with no speeding, alcohol, or drugs involved according to the police report. His passenger cannot recall the events that led to the accident or how it ocurred We will never know why or how it happened. Witnesses could only proclaim that it was just a tragic accident that should have never occurred.



It has been 2 years and 5 months since the loss of my son and not a day goes by that I don’t think of him and shed a tear for my loss. I am not the only one who has suffered. His sisters have suffered the loss of their older brother and their protector. I have had to go on living, not for me, but for them. I don’t feel the need to be here anymore but I know I cannot abandon the girls that I have. I love them so very much and would give my life for them but since Jonathan’s death I have not been the mother I should be. My faith in God is what helps me to get up each morning and function in a world that seems so empty now.
I wrote this because I was hoping you could have a Show for mother’s who have lost their children and how it affects not only her but their families as well. I feel that it should be more recognized that a loss of child is like no other pain or suffering. No one can tell you they know how it feels until they have experienced the very same loss. Even the loss of a loved one cannot compare to the loss of a child. Our children are supposed to bury us we are not supposed to bury them. Oprah, I know that everything you touch turns to “gold” so I was hoping that you could give a golden moment to recognize those of us who grieve for our children.

Sincerely,

Marcia Arreola