My son David was born on January 16, 1991 and he died August 11, 2009. The day he was born was one of the happiest days of my life and the day he died was the worst day. It is every parent's nightmare that their child predecease them and, unless you have been there, there is nothing anyone can say to convey the kind of incomprehensible impact it is to lose a child.
There is much to say about the circumstances of David's birth; but what has become important to me is David's life. As a child, I can remember that he HAD to have a ball in his hand at all times. He would spend his days either kicking or throwing or batting a ball and he became an outstanding athlete out of the many hours he spent practicing. As David got older, he became clear that he was a gifted athlete and, while he played four seasons in high school, he was most noted for his career in high school baseball. He set school records with a 17-3 record, 1.50 ERA and 239 strikeouts. His senior season was one of the best in New Jersey history: 9-2 with a 0.97 ERA and 125 strikeouts in 64 2/3 innings.
The truth is sports, specifically baseball, were the most important thing to David, except there actually was one thing more important. David loved people. He loved his friends and he had friends in many, many groups. He had friends who were jocks, and friend that were "nerds” and friends that were "thugs” and friends that didn't fit in any of those categories. He was known for his smile and his ability to brighte
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