What happened to Royce?

I remember asking about Royce. I was speaking with Tonya, my daughter, and I asked about him and I didn't really get an answer and don't recall her response. My family members had been in and around but no one was really addressing this question...Later my Pastor came in. I remember being glad to see him....I remember his words to me being..."it looks like Royce is not going to make it." After this I remember crying, and yelling no, no, no, repeatedly....

Let me just explain to you that Royce was my life. He was my 4 1/2 year old grandson. He loved Thomas the train, and going to the train museum. He loved Lightening McQueen and he always had either a train or his "Ba Queen" (Lightening McQueen) in his hands. He would often line his trains up at the edge of the table (he had a basket full of them....) and then he would place them all meticulously in a row. Next he would check the line closely to make sure all the trains were in alignment...then he would pick either James (the number 5 engine) or Thomas (the number 1 engine) out of the lineup to play with him wherever he went.  Royce was the love of my life. He was a beautiful and extremely handsome child, he loved his family and the life he was living, enjoyed watching his favorite shows and movies on TV --- spent his time running wherever he went and he was always jumping and hopping in front of the TV --- laughing and playing with his shadow. He loved his Mother beyond belief and stuck to her like glue. He had only recently, since my family had come back from Missouri, begun to trust others beyond his Mom --- to the point that he would actually leave her side comfortably--meaning without tears or having to maneuver him so he wouldn't see that she was leaving. He and I were beginning to have an even greater relationship. If I left the house to run errands...he would say... Grammy -- "black shoes?" which was his way of questioning to see if he could go....all he had to do from there was put on his shoes. I took him everywhere with me while his sister was in Preschool. We were doing some homeschooling with him as he had difficulty in managing in a typical classroom setting. He was considered developmentally delayed, was going to speech therapy once per week, play therapy twice per week, and was being tested for autism. We were in the process of getting him ready for DD (Developmentally Disabled) Preschool. We had attending the meetings and started the process of getting him set up to begin classes in the fall. He was making good progress -- we were working on colors, and numbers, the alphabet and his speech was getting better. He was starting to form sentences with 2 - 3 words, and was doing great with his speech therapist, Ms Deanna.  His mother did not like labeling him in any way and felt that eventually his abilities would catch up. She always felt that his speech and developmental delays were the result of some bad experiences that he had had during his early childhood (maybe resulting in PTSD) due to some issues of domestic violence in his home and being taken by his father..away from his mother...in a traumatic series of events.

To us, he was always just Royce and we loved him tremendously.

So when my Pastor said....it looks like "Royce" is not going to make it....I can not explain the overwhelming feeling of loss, devastation, horror, and ultimately guilt, that I felt in this moment....I had great fears around the circumstances, how was he....what had happened?...I don't remember much after this conversation..

Royce Lyndon Randle Age: 4 1/2

 

One day I woke up......

One day I woke up and I was in ICU. There was a flurry of activity, people rushing around -- and I was on the table. I sensed that the activity was focused around something that had happened to me, but I had no idea of how I had gotten to this point or what was really involved.

I could vaguely remember seeing what I thought had been "white" all around me, glass breaking, and then being thrown to one side of my vehicle. I felt like I had been suspended in air,....flying....but being held above the vehicle with my arms and legs extending out...maybe  I was being held by my seatbelt. I saw all of this as though I was watching it on the screen (of my eyelids) because I don't really think I was concious...I have a vague memory of someone asking me "What happened?" and I remember a very dreamy response of "I don't know"....

There was more activity, I was in and out, but I have no other recollection of what led me to this point.  I was back in the hospital. There were many people around, nurses, what seemed to be Doctors.....I dont recall my family being there at this point....I had lost track of what day it was, how many days or nights had gone by, and everything sort of ran together in a blur..... I do remember singing at night at the top of my lungs over and over, "Our God is an awesome God" ...I was just trying to keep my senses together and not completely freak out....later, my Pastor came in..not sure how many days had gone by...and he told me it looked like "Royce" was not going to survive.