December 8, 1997
18 years ago today, pregnant me took my little boy, Evan, to Marina del Rey to the movies to see 101 Dalmatians, while Dad was away on a business trip.
17 years ago today, my little boy, Evan, on his way out to school, told Dad that he was going to make him proud. To which Dad said that he was already proud of him and Evan responded, “But I am going to make you really proud.”
17 years ago today, my little boy, Evan, on the way to school in the car, told God, “Thank you Lord, for another day to breathe.”
17 years ago today, my little boy, Evan, talked about how good his Papa could make paper airplanes for him and then told me, “I want to learn everything and play every sport.”
17 years ago today, my little boy, Evan, on the way to the park to pick up his soccer trophy and sign up for the winter basketball league, told me how kids thought that he was older – 8, when he was only 7.
17 years ago today, my little boy, Evan, as we waited to receive the league registration receipt, asked me, “Mom, does my hair still feel like velvet?”
17 years ago today, my little boy, Evan, responded to my, “I’m sorry”, as I straightway reversed our vehicle away from the barrels of a shotgun and a MAK90 assault weapon, with “That’s okay, Mom.”
17 years ago today, my little boy, Evan, died dressed in his Batman sweatsuit and Spiderman sneakers, shot twice in the head by a MAK90 assault weapon, snuggled up next to his baby brother, Alec, injured by bullet fragments.
17 years ago today, my little boy, Evan, flew to Jesus and lives…
