This memorial website was created in the memory of my son, Anthony Paul Wodzinski who was born in Americus, Georgia on January 18, 1991 and passed away on June 10, 2006 at the age of 15. We will remember him forever. 

Anthony Paul was my second of two children. He was my only son.  From the time he was born he was full speed. I was always having to keep my eye on him. He was such a happy baby. He had a few illnesses which he overcame. He was always running around, playing ball, riding big wheels, tricycles, bicycles, motorcycles and ATVs. He was into girls, basketball, his friends, his music and of course, his own style. 

As Anthony Paul got older, he was constantly doing more daring things. Building ramps in the yard so that he could jump them on his  bike. The faster and the higher he could go, the more he liked it. He lived every part of his life this way. I was always watching and praying for his safety.  It seemed he was always cheating death. He was in a car wreck, got bit by a spider, killed a 6 foot rattlesnake alone with a stick, all kinds of things that could have taken him from us much earlier.  But the Lord let him stay for a while longer. I guess he knew that I was not ready.

Anthony Paul got bigger, stronger, wiser, and more mature as the years went by. He stuck to his beliefs and was grounded in his morals. He would go out of his way to help others. He was a friend to anyone who needed one. He would listen to anyone who had a problem and help however he could. His goal was to make others as happy as he was. He was never angry long, I believe that he knew life was too short to stay angry long. 

The summer of 2006, I lovingly sent my children off to spend some time with their father and his family. They had a great time. The first weekend, I went over on Saturday and took the children for a road trip to a local aquarium. We had the best time. We laughed, joked, and talked so much on this trip. When I dropped the children off, they each gave me a hug, kiss and an I love you mom. As I was leaving, my son jumped out of his sister's car and ran over and leaned in my window and gave me a hug and kiss and said, " I love you momma. Thanks for today."  This was the last time I saw my beautiful son smile.

I spoke to him several times each night that week to see how he was doing and to hear about his days. I came home from work on Wednesday, June 7, 2006 and busied myself until it was time to call the kids. Then I received that phone call, the one every parent fears. It was a phone call from my ex-husband telling me that Anthony Paul was in a 4-wheeler wreck and he did not know how bad he was hurt, just that I needed to come.  He said that Anthony wrecked around his grandfather's house and the ambulance was on their way to the hospital with him.  This terrified me because, you don't call an ambulance for a broke arm or leg. I told him, find out something and call me back. I called my sister and she came to get me and drive me the two hours to my son because I was already terrified. My ex-husband finally called back and said for me to hurry, it did not look good, but he could not tell me anything.  We drove as fast as we could to get there and made it in one hour. 

I got to the hospital and there was already a crowd gathered. I went in and saw my beautiful son laying on the bed already hooked up to all kinds of machines. I was told he had a broken back and neck and a head injury. The also told me that he coded three times, but they got him back.  They were making plans to airlift him to the nearest hospital with a trauma unit. I waited, prayed, and held his hand until the helicopter arrived.  I then had to leave my child and follow the helicopter to the next hospital.  We arrived there and was told we would have to wait, so we waited. And waited for what seemed an eternity. Finally, a doctor came out and told us he was in grave condition and was being moved to PICU. We walked with him and I held his hand and talked to him. He opened his eye and looked at me and squeezed my hand. At PICU, we again had to wait to go in with him. This drove me crazy because I wanted to be with him every moment.

Finally, we were able to go in. He was hooked up to so many machines. He looked like he was asleep. I sat and held his hand, asking the doctors so many questions, yet not being able to hear any of the answers.  I waited by his side for so many hours, praying and counting down to the 72 hour critical mark, for if we could make it that far, the peak of the swelling would subside. I did not have any idea as to what time or day it was, just how many hours he stayed with us. I was just praying, praying, praying.

On Thursday, his blood pressure would go up everytime he heard me or his father talk and they kicked us out. Finally, I told them that I would not speak a word, just let me sit by him, they agreed so long as I did not speak or touch him. I was told this would cause him to try to communicate with me and was using too much of his oxygen. So, of course, I sat quietly, not talking and not touching, just praying. I wanted to be with him all the time. I wanted to touch him, talk to him, hold him and most of all make him all better. It was bad enough I would have to leave during shift change. I would sit and watch all the others quickly change shifts, while it was 45 minutes to an hour before Anthony Paul's shift change was complete due to all the information that had to be exchanged.

We sent out a prayer request chain and thousands of people were praying for him at 10:00 a.m. Friday morning.  For these people, I am forever grateful that they took the time to pray for my child, my family. 

On Friday, when I woke up, I felt that something was different, I had a different feeling inside me. I felt more peaceful, more hopeful. He took his medication good with no bad reactions. I took this as a great sign. I just knew he was going to make it! He was so strong, they just did not know how strong my baby was! He would make it! 

One of the nurses came in and asked if I wanted to clean my baby up as he was covered in dirt and briars. I was so grateful to this nurse, for this would allow me to touch my baby. I gently washed his face, arms and hands with q-tips and cotton balls, and picked out as many of the briars as I could. This was such a peaceful time for me. I was able to touch him, caress him, take care of him. I felt so guilty and helpless because I could not fix him. 

As the day passed, however, his brain swelling increased and the intercranial pressure was increasing in spite of the medication. At some point during the night, I was yet again sent out. I laid down and cried myself to sleep. 

On Saturday, June 10, 2006, I awoke at 7:00 to the news that the pressure in his brain was very, very high. I was not allowed to see him due to shift change, AGAIN!!  The doctor said he wanted to do a blood flow test to see if any blood was getting to his brain. I was allowed to visit him for a little while.  It was so different then, I felt that he was no longer in there. I felt that he was gone. They came to get him and did the test. They came back and said the worst possible thing that a parent could ever hear: your child is brain dead.  I could not believe that this was happening to us. I could not believe that my baby was gone! I just wanted to be with him alone for a little while. I went in and held him and cried. I told my precious child goodbye and that I loved him. We then signed the papers for organ donation as my son wished.  I went home and laid in his bed and wept for my family's loss.

p.s. I have since learned that my son was riding alone, down a lonely country road, on someone else's 4 wheeler, with no helmet. He went over the side of a 20 ft ravine and lay there for an hour before anyone found him. This hour will torment me for the rest of my days here on Earth.


To return to his website: 
http://anthonypaulwodzinski.com
To return to his table of contents: 
http://anthonypaulwodzinski.com/tableofindex.html