Grief is the price we pay for love

Catherine Reynolds | Jul 04, 2018

It’s a fine line that separates pain and happiness.

Michael Trautrimas knows it intimately from walking it every day.

“Sometimes time feels like it has flown-by. Other times, it feels like it has stood still,” says the 45-year-old man sadly, one-month before the second anniversary of a tragic car accident that claimed the life of his wife and six-year-old son, Owen.

For many, the accident is a wound that has yet to heal.

Rounding a corner on Battersea Road near Sunbury on July 27, 2016, Michael’s wife, Brenda, 38, and two sons, collided with a truck. His eldest son, Ayden, was the lone survivor in the family van.

Michael’s eyes water talking about the accident that changed his life. To cope, he’s never asked for details such as what happened or why. He knows the answers could reveal suffering which would only compound the pain in his broken heart.

“The last place I saw them was the Walmart parking lot,” says Michael, who was preparing to leave his job as a diesel mechanic early the day of the accident due to a strong feeling something was wrong.

“That first night when the news was broken to me, I remember everything, the words that were spoken to me; even their facial expressions,” he says solemnly.

What Michael didn’t know was the extent of injuries sustained by his eldest son, who is severely autistic.

Ayden spent the next six weeks in hospital recovering from a neck injury, broken hip, fractured foot, severe whiplash, concussion, bruising and a wound that turned dangerously necrotic. The doctors also removed his arm.

“The first thing he did when he woke up in the hospital was put his arm around me,” says Michael. “For what he went through, he’s a tank. He kept fighting the whole way through his recovery. That’s what kept me going. Ayden has been my rock. If it had been a complete loss, I wouldn’t be here.”

Nearly two years later, Ayden has made a full recovery and Michael marvels at how he found the inner strength to shape a new life despite almost drowning under the weight of his grief.

“That’s hard to explain in one sentence,” he replies softly when asked how he’s doing. “It comes in waves. I’m living the best life I can lead going through this.

“It surprises me I have the strength to deal with this,” he adds quietly. “Don’t get me wrong, I still have my moments when I’m a crying mess.”

What most people don’t know is the loss Michael has experienced beyond his immediate family. In the last several years, he has lost a beloved sister, cousins and father-in-law.

“It’s been one-thing after the next,” he explains. “It’s gotten to the point where it’s almost numbing. I’ve lost so many people, I can’t sugarcoat things anymore.”

Despite the pain he has endured, Michael still finds happiness in nine-year-old Ayden and 23-year-old Jacob, a son from a previous relationship.

“I have a lot of love to give,” says the Battersea man kindly. “Above everything I’ve gone through, I’ve always felt I can give to other people. I care about people, their feelings and emotions.”

Proud of his new full-time job raising Ayden, Michael looks away when told he’s resilient.

“It surprises me every day,” he says with a tone of uncertainty. “There hasn’t been one day in the last two years that I haven’t gotten out of bed. I do what anyone would do. I look after my son. I feel pride that I can do this. I take him everywhere. I try to be a good dad. It’s something I’ve always been proud of. He keeps me going.”

Pausing to catch his breath, Michael is quick to thank the first responders and medical staff who helped his family two years ago.

“I just met some of the first responders,” he admits, trailing off quietly, “if it wasn’t for them….

“Owen and Brenda were beyond help, but they helped Ayden who was severely autistic, non-verbal and injured. I imagine there wasn’t much to work with. I have so much gratitude for the first responders who were able to keep Ayden alive.”

Michael is clearly proud of the child who has brought him happiness in a time of grief and pain.

“There’s something about Ayden that is special,” says the doting father with a smile. “He touches your soul. There’s no denial in his love.”