sandy Brosam's story of healing grief

Destined To Grow Strong – Empowering Myself To Survive!

 

The story you are about to read, tells of Sandy Brosam’s journey back from Indescribable Grief. Sandy lost her son in an auto accident and witnessed the entire devastating impact unfold before her eyes. Eight years later, she was to face yet another loss. Sandy’s baby boy would be diagnosed with cancer at the age of fourteen months old. Three months later he, too, was gone. Her journey was extraordinarily painful and exhausting. Sandy’s body, mind and soul were faced with grief beyond words. Her road to try and retrieve normal will inspire everyone. Sandy draws you into her story so deeply, you feel as if you are right beside her, you will not want to put it down! Welcome to Sandy’s world.

 

“I have been thru hell twice in the loss my children. I have lived my entire adult life dealing with grief. I was 21 years old when my first son died. There are many realities that come into play with Extended Grief. The stress of “Complicated Grief” as they now call it, affected my immune system greatly. This had led to having to replace body parts, and being implanted with a Neurostimulator device for pain control. I truly do have to plug in to recharge! Here is my story of an intense life that led to becoming a grief coach and the woman my daughter calls “Robo Mom” ~ Sandy

 

Book reviews:

“Once I started reading the book, it was hard to put the book down. There were times that I felt like I was right there with Sandy. I can honestly say I do not believe I could have survived half of what she endured.”

“For example, I could visualize her at the carnival making cotton candy and the ride flying off and landing at the floor of her booth. She did an outstanding job drawing me into the stories of her life. In all of the unfortunate turn of events, she still has the determination of survival. I would highly recommend this book to others grieving, as well as those who are struggling in life and think they cannot go on.” ~Chris H (Bereaved Parent)
**********

Thank you for writing such an honest and encouraging book. The loss of a child is never easy, but losing two must have been devastating. In your book you are showing others that they too can be stronger than their pain”! ~Mary C (Bereaved Parent)

 

The Story behind these:

Excerpt from Chapter Two:

 

My baby was a boy, we named him Terry John, TJ for short. He was a healthy seven pound baby. He was the love of my life, I now knew what it felt like to love someone unconditionally.

 

We brought him home to our trailer on the edge of the mountain. There was 600 feet of elevation in 400 feet of driveway, we had carved out a spot in the side of the hill for the trailer. Our well was poor, we put a 1000 gallon holding tank above the trailer to give us enough water to live comfortably. By the time Terry was born, we still did not have phone lines hooked up, we had buried the line, but were on a waiting list to be hooked up. This was back in 1978, things were done slowly. I had a CB radio like the truckers used to communicate. I could reach my mother-in-law’s house, and my husband had one in his service van, but that only worked if he was close by. That was my only communication. TV was rabbit ears, and not much to see, I spent time playing with the baby and doing crafts.

 

We had one of those freak cold fronts come thru in late winter, and it got -25 below, and stayed that way for 2 weeks. No snow, only severe cold. A week into the cold, we had a power outage that lasted 3 days. John had brought home a wood stove, as we had an electric furnace, and with no power it was too cold to live in the trailer. We had been staying at my mother’s house as they had wood heat. We set up the stove in the living room, and as the trailer warmed up, we found out the pipes inside the wall had broken. John had left to go get a load of firewood after getting the stove going. I was rocking Terry in the living room, and I heard a loud snap, and water starts coming out of the walls rushing across the floor… I ran Terry to the back of the trailer, and laid him in the middle of the bed where he would be safe, and ran up to the front door, slipped boots on and raced outside to turn the water valve off, as I knew there was 1000 gallons in the tank above the trailer that would keep coming by gravity, until it was empty.

 

First there was plywood around the bottom of the trailer I had to rip open with my bare hands, we had just wrapped extra insulation around the pipes and had not sealed the plywood shut. I had a crack to grab onto. When I got to the pipes they were wrapped with insulation and duct tape to keep them from freezing. It takes forever for me to get to the valve and get it turned off. I hear the water rushing into the trailer at a high rate of speed.

 

It is bone chilling cold, I didn’t grab a coat, and I am blue and shaking. I hear Terry crying, and am hoping the water didn’t get back there yet… I get to the front door and it is locked. I had slammed it hard when I ran out I guess the door knob locked. I run to the back door, we never use it, it’s locked too. I am very cold and I am now panicking. I run back to the front door, I try to body slam it like on TV, it didn’t work. I tried to kick it in, but the boots I had slipped on were John’s, and they are size 12, my foot is a 7, they just fall off. I looked around, and there were a couple of pieces of firewood laying on the floor of the porch. I grab one and start bashing on the door. I am trying to hit the door knob to break it, but I miss and put a hole thru the door right beside the knob. The door was an old wood door and it was hollow.

 

I tossed the wood down, and reached through the hole and unlocked the door. When I open the door water rushes out, as there is about 6 inches in the living room now. I run to the baby, he was fine, just cold, and crying as the heat from the stove had not gotten back to the bedroom, nor had the water. I put a coat on, wrap up Terry in a snow suit and a couple of blankets, and head out to my car to leave. I had an old International Scout that had door handles that had to be pulled down like a latch, I reach out to open the door, and the handle breaks off in my hand. I go around to the other side, and mistakenly try it too. At 25 below, they both break off, and I cannot get into the vehicle to leave. My wet jeans are now frozen to my legs, I head back inside. I call on the radio and tell my mother-in-law I need John to come home right now, and went and sat down in my wooden rocking chair.

 

I sat there rocking my baby in 4 inches of water now, as some had drained out through the door and floor cracks. I am up close to the front of the wood stove trying to warm up, I can’t believe this has happened to me. I am thinking about how much I hate that trailer, living in the country with no communication, and the cold. I am exhausted and still shivering, I just sit there rocking my baby. At least he is warm in his snow suit.


hands_heart_web

 

Back