How this grieving mother is trying to turn these tragedies into triumphs by helping others.
What happened
On February 18th, 1993 I got the call that is every mother's worst nightmare. My oldest son was shot and killed. The worst part is that he pulled the trigger. He was 17 years old.
On September 22nd, 1999 his little brother (then 22) went to the cemetary where Shane's ashes are and shot himself in the head. He wanted to be with his brother--wherever that is when you kill yourself.
It was also what happened between their deaths. Howie, Ryan's best friend, was murdered. His brief story in the blogs posted.
This little guy (weighing 1.2 pounds) was abandoned on a lonesome highway, taken to the shelter by a mail carrier, and I adopted him on Ryan's birthday. Now, this will make one of those tough dates very positive!
