Routines...

It's 6:00 and in the "normal" world, most families are settling in for the night to have dinner, watch tv, and talk about their days. At least that's what my family did before we lost Mike. 

Our evening dinners and talks usually began between 6-7:00, and consisted of many laughs, stories of the day, and plans for tomorrow. 

I'm completely baffled by not having a routine anymore. I honestly don't know what to do with myself sometimes. I have many things on both a farm and a house to-do list, but I find myself lacking the energy and motivation around this time every evening. I'm used to having my husband here at this time every evening. I'm used to riding through the farm checking cows after dinner. I'm used to sitting on the tailgate or in our front porch chairs he bought me for my birthday one year. I'm used to picking a movie to rent on satellite, making popcorn, and sitting close beside my husband. 

I don't know how to establish new routines for Conner and myself. I want to sit here on the porch and watch the cows like we used to, but the chair beside me is empty. I want to hop in an old farm truck and take a ride around the farm, but I don't want to be the one driving.

I want to just talk. Talk about nothing. Talk about everything. But I just find myself most often sitting in silence. Usually tears come before I go back inside and I just clench my jaw again. 

My cooking routine is completely out of whack. I don't cook very often anymore. Mike loved my cooking and I so loved cooking for him. He liked everything, except one time I tried a new recipe for chicken enchiladas and they came out green. Lol... We did NOT eat those! 

My laundry routine is different. I used to get so aggravated at the pile of grease and cow manure stained pants, but what I would give to have those in the hamper again. 

Routines. I don't know how to start new ones when I'm still so stuck in the old ones and so desperately wishing for them to return, along with my husband. I hate that part of our routine is now to go visit Mike. I hate that our visits are one-sided. I hate that his name is in stone. I hate that this happened to him, to us. 

How do I get to new routines that aren't so heartbreaking? 

I love you and miss you more than words, baby, and will now, forever and always times in infinity. 

I will forever be #stillhis. 

So much to say...

Conner and I just arrived home from our first vacation without Daddy.  It was a bittersweet moment for us; it was Conner's 11th birthday and his first trip to the ocean and beach, so it had some happiness and excitement.  But then on the other side of it, I wept every day for the absence of my husband.  

I watched the ocean waves every day and just wanted to sit there and not talk.  I just wanted to sit in silence, take in the waves and the wind, and do nothing but cry.  I usually waited until everyone was in bed, or it was just my mom and me on the beach.  I embarrassed myself at one point when I broke down in the middle of a crowded beach restaurant.  I had to quickly excuse myself and make my way out of the restaurant. 

Conner met me outside after he did the sweetest thing and bought me some earrings, that I didn't even know about.  I just hugged him and cried into his chest.  He held me close and told me it will be alright.  He always tells me that. He is so strong. 

While we were at the beach, I kept thinking that it was more of a couple place to visit.  It was nice for families, but it is so quiet and peaceful that Conner started to get bored as the days went on.  I kept imagining what Mike and I would do if it was us there. 

I imagined just Mike and me walking along the sand under the moonlit sky, with stars shining all around us.  I imagined walking around in downtown Apilachicola with just Mike beside me, his hand folded into mine and his left hand leading me into a nice restaurant.  I imagined just Mike and me going for pizza and beer.  I dreamed of just Mike and me relaxing in the beach chairs with the breeze blowing and the sun kissing our skin.  I imagined just Mike and me going inside the house after a long day on the beach, napping just long enough to get our energy back up for a date.  I imagined listening to the live band playing as just Mike looked at me like I was the most beautiful woman on Earth.  I imagined just Mike and me talking and laughing and spending quality time together. 

It was hard to be there without him.  It didn't matter that I was surrounded by family who loves us.  It didn't matter that the beach was full; I felt alone.  It didn't matter that I laughed loud...most of the laughs were to keep the tears away. 

I made memories with our little boy, but he struggled too.  He missed his dad building sandcastles with him.  He missed hearing his dad's laughter and seeing his smile. 

I thought of Mike often while driving the almost 14 hours there and back.  I remembered so many good, romantic things about him.  And so I spend my days imagining...

I can imagine sitting close to him with my hand on his right leg while he rests his chin on his left hand and steers with his right. I imagine Conner on the ranger behind or in front of us...Mike grinning at how much Conner has grown and how much of a little "man child" he is. I imagine the warmth of his body as I sit close to him, both of us dressed in faded jeans and flannel shirts. I imagine every once in a while him looking over to me and telling me I'm beautiful and that he loves me. I imagine us stealing a few kisses here and there and seeing Conner roll his eyes and shake his head when he caught us. I imagine old country music on the radio and me singing along, us jamming out when a really good old favorite comes on, like "Baby Got Her Bluejeans On".

I miss his notes that I would find taped to our front door. I miss his surprises when he would arrive home without me knowing and knock gently on the door. I miss everything about him.

I imagine our last date.  I made a romance playlist and of course Ed Sheeran was on there, Blake Shelton, and several others...he listened to me sing along to them as a serenade to him while he held my hand and grinned from the driver's seat of my truck. That last date was just a couple of weeks before he left. We went to dinner and to a movie but didn't even make it all the way through...Grandma was babysitting Conner so we left early to have more time just the two of us. 

I imagine how my husband flirted with me every day...he complimented me a million times a day...he held me a million times a day...he came up behind me and kissed my neck a million times a day...he told me he loved me a million times a day. He seemed so tough on the exterior...and trust me, he was. He was the absolute strongest, toughest, most hard working man I've ever known, but he was also the sweetest, most romantic man I've ever known either.

I have a note that I have carried in my wallet for 11 years now...he left it for me one morning when he left for work before I woke and it reads, "Hey Babe, just wanted to tell you that I love you and the baby." I was almost 7 months pregnant with our miracle. I hope that if nothing else good comes from you reading my posts about my heartache but also about my never ending love, that it is that you realize happiness in every day with your blessings...that you are grateful and thank The Lord for all you have...and that even if it seems you can't go on, you can't breathe, you can't heal and move forward--you can as long as you lean on God, family and friends. My family and friends have been countless since all this...my prayers have not once ceased or been filled with anger or questions. That doesn't make me perfect or even better than anyone else. It just makes me hope for this kind of faith for others.

I have so many more memories of the amazing love and life that we shared. 
I miss my husband...I still call him my husband...I still wear my wedding ring on my finger and his Marine Corps ring around my neck...I'm still Mike Hollis' wife.

Today, as I have done every single day since December 29, I will imagine. I will remember. I will praise The Lord for every.single.second. I had as Mike's wife.

Before and After...

People change. We evolve over time from our infant selves, to our toddler selves, and all the way through to adulthood. That's a natural progression that with blessings from God, happens without many hiccups in the road. 

Sometimes, God throws us some hills and mountains on the journey. Those make it difficult to go. They make it difficult to see the good on the other side. To see the good in what is happening right then. We are who we are before those mountains and hills and then we are who we are after. 

Before Mike I was a young, divorced, insecure 23 year old. My divorce changed me. I had always been insecure in the way I looked. I had always feared the person I was with would not like me anymore and would go to someone else. I was jealous, worried, insecure, and often hateful as a defense to those fears. After my divorce, I realized it wasn't just my ex's fault. Yes, he did wrong...but so did I. I was too young when we married and we had been a couple since the summer I turned 13, so I think we just outgrew each other. But nonetheless, our divorce changed me. 

I became even more worried and insecure than before. I thought that no one would ever want me if my own husband didn't. I literally thought I was going to die alone.

I know, I know...completely insane for a 23 year old girl to think that, no matter what the circumstance. So, for a few months I wallowed in self pity. Until after a few months when I had an epiphany. 

I was not going to die alone. 

I stood in my rental house bathroom and looked hard at myself in the mirror. I realized that I might not be Cindy Crawford, but I wasn't a dog either. I would eventually be ok and if someone were to call and ask me out, I would go. 

Mike became that someone. He called me one October evening and changed my life forever. For the better. 

I fell in love with his voice from the first "Hey..." I fell in love with every part of him within a week...and he fell in love with me. He actually said it first, thank God, because I thought he would think I was insane for falling so fast. 

Mike changed me. Before him, I was worried no one would want me. I was worried I would never find true happiness and real, grown up love, not the high school kind. Before Mike I never wanted to dress sexy; I always feared I would look stupid or fat in whatever and that it would just be a turn off. 

Mike changed me. Before him, I never had real dreams for a future. Sure, my ex and I had talked about what it would be like when we were old, but I don't think either of us really believed it or meant it. We only fantasized about it and were too young to really commit to a dream and a life together. 

Mike and I did it though. We had a dream together and we worked for that dream every day. We actually lived that beautiful dream for 13 years, 2 months, and 11 days. He changed me for the better. 

I never trusted someone like I trusted Mike. I never believed in someone like I believed in Mike. I never cheered for someone so hard; never wanted someone so badly; never loved someone so fully. 

And he made me feel like a whole new woman because he made me feel so beautiful even when I looked like crap. No makeup, unkempt hair...it didn't matter. He found me my most beautiful when dressed in my torn farm jeans, boots, and one of his flannel shirts. Makeup free, hair flying wild. 

He had a way of making me feel sexy and beautiful without doubting myself. He had those eyes that pierced my soul with every smoldering look. He looked at me with pure love and what we called our forever look. We were in it, together, forever. It didn't matter what hills and mountains came our way, we were both determined to make it to the other side unscathed. 

But he also had this other look of pure love and happiness and pride when he looked at one of his sons. That look always made me fall even deeper in love with Mike. 

Before Mike, I was unsure of my future and after I met him and we fell in love with each other, I was less insecure and was more sure. I was so sure we were going to make it. All the way. All the way to sitting on the porch after retirement, watching our boys with their families. Watching grandkids play in the yard. Taking in each other in the quiet moments alone. Maybe even having a naked room...referencing Failure to Launch, a great movie. ;) I was safe with Mike. I was so sure no matter what, life was good. 

And now. What about now? I don't feel like I'm in any kind of "after Mike" or that I ever will be. I do feel like an "after Mike died" though. My life will never be the same. My son's life will never be the same. My heart will never heal. My love will never fade for Mike or our life we shared for so many years. 

After Mike died. That's so difficult to say, to write, to accept as reality. To move forward from. 

Now, I'm a nervous wreck all the time. I'm back to my insecure self. I worry that I'll fail as a single mom. I worry that I'll always have to fake a smile. I worry I'll worry forever. Butterflies stir all day and night; I have the same dream over and over again...that he only left me for a while and that we reunite. 

I literally have to grit my teeth most hours of the day to keep my cool, and sometimes I'm too weak and it breaks me. But I'm trying. I'm trying for our son.

I'm doing what I know would make Mike happy. I knew him better than anyone. We shared secrets and conversations that no one else was privy to. We told each other things that we dared not say aloud to anyone else. We were each other's forever. So now I smile, four and a half months after Mike died, mostly to fight the sadness. I fake being happy, being secure and sure. I fake confidence in what I'm doing. In reality, underneath the mask, I'm scared to death. I'm overwhelmed with farm, house, and life to-do lists. I cry at night, in the silence while Conner sleeps so that he won't hear me.

I wear his ring around my neck and his name on a heart above my own. I will forever. 

I will Now, Forever and Always times Infinity be #stillhis. 

I love you and miss you more than words, Babe. I'm still trying my hardest and doing my best. I hope you're still proud to have me as your wife. 

Our first birthday without you...

Babe,

Today we are celebrating our boy's 11th birthday. I feel lost. 

I brought Conner to the beach; mom, Amy and everyone is here with us. But I feel utterly alone and like it is taking every ounce of my being to keep from cracking. 

He woke to the waves this morning and has been doing well so far. He cried once a little and so he and I rested under the shade of the canopy for a bit. 

I'm trying to stay upbeat and laugh my hardest, and smile my widest, all while barely hanging on. 

I remember the day he was born, don't you? It seems like it was yesterday that we went to the hospital to be induced. Remember how we didn't decide on a middle named until the morning we left for the hospital? I'm happy that he has a part of poppy Dave and has his middle name, but I wish now more than ever that we had given him Michael as a middle name. 

I just don't know how I'm supposed to celebrate all of his birthdays without you. Planning what gifts to buy him or what food to serve at the party has always been a team effort. Watching you smile and laugh and relax at his parties brought me such joy. The way you would come up behind me, kiss me on the shoulder and say, "hey babe...you did good. I think he's having fun, don't you?" 

This year he didn't even want a party. He didn't want a dinner or anything organized with family and friends because he said it would just remind him that you're not here. 

Everything reminds us that you are not here. Even though we've never been to this place with you, and there is no memory here of us, my gosh it does not help. I feel weird being here with my family...when the biggest part of my family is gone. I feel completely lonely even though we're surrounded by people who love us. I miss you and I know your little boy does. 

I find myself listening to the crashing waves and wishing that I could just curl up next to you on a beach and close my eyes. Just take in the sound next to you. I find myself stopping every so often during the day and just talking to you, telling you how much I miss you. 

It's just like this here--I search in my mind for moments full of you. I knew you so well that during everything we've done while here at the beach, I imagine the same situations and experiences but just with my husband. My best friend, my lover, my true love. 

I will never move away from us. I hope you know that. I will always be your wife. The absolute best memories of my life have been made with you. I wish you were here to make memories with our little boy and me on his first trip to the ocean. You are with me in my mind, in everything. 

Part of it is beautiful in that I still think of you in everything I do; part of it is gut wrenching. Part of me is gone. Part of me will never heal. Part of me will crack and not be able to hold on anymore. That part came out at dinner, in a crowded beach restaurant, with our table filled with our family. There was no stopping it. I had held it in as long as I could. 

I can't wait until we can all reunite in Heaven one day and have the biggest birthday party of all for all the ones that will be missed here on Earth.

I have to go for now...our amazing son is calling me back to the waves. 

I love you and miss you Now, Forever and Always times Infinity, Babe. 

I am #stillhis

Love, 

Veronica

Waves...

Grief comes in waves.  We have no control over when it will wash over us and bring us crashing to our knees.

Yesterday began like any other day lately.  Conner and I got ready for school, I worked all day, ran errands during prep hour, and Conner had a grief counseling appointment after school.  So, it was a regular day for us, sad as usual, but "regular".  We stayed busy.

On our way home from the counselor, we got a call that the man who is leasing part of our farm needed help with his cows.  The truck that delivered them became stuck in one of our creek crossings and the herd had been turned out.  No gates were closes.  Electric fences were not "hot" and ready.  No water was available to the location where the herd was to be kept.  So, Conner and I helped move the herd.  Then we watched as Matt moved the truck from the creek via a bulldozer.

As Conner and I sat in the Ranger at a distance, it just washed over me.  Reality.  I'm 36 years old and alone. I cannot do this on my own.  I cannot logically take care of the massive to-do list that comes with this farm.

The love of my life, who could always "fix" any problems, who always made me feel safe, is gone.  Forever.  He's never coming back.

I no longer get to hold his hand.  I no longer get to hear his voice, or call him when I have something to talk about. I no longer have him to lean on through everything.  I no longer have a partner in raising our son.  I no longer have confidence or any sense of security.

The weight became too heavy all at once and the tears became a torrent.  I just started losing it.  I haven't lost control in a while.  I can't.  I have to stay "strong" for Conner and it sometimes gets to be too much.  I'm not strong.  I don't feel strong at all.  I feel like all I want to do is cry and hide from the world.  I feel like I want to grieve more but can't because I'm expected to go to work, to get dressed every day, to "move forward".

I have read several things these last few months that deal with grief and moving forward from a loss of this magnitude.  It all is hogwash.  I'm sick of reading it.  I'm sick of seeing these widows who seem to magically bounce back in just a short amount of time.  I even read a blog post the other day from a lady who admitted that she began dating again only a few months after her husband's passing.

Not that I'm "dogging" on these women.  I'm not.

I'm envious.

I'm envious of their abilities to "bounce back".  I'm envious of their made up faces and their bright eyes that don't look haggard and exhausted. I'm envious of their finances that allow them to begin traveling the world.  I'm envious of their positive outlook.

For me, that isn't reality.  My reality is no where near beautiful, peaceful, happy, promising, or what I ever imagined it would be.

My reality is harsh.  I'm struggling.  I have too many bills to pay.  I have too much debt that well surpasses my salary.  I have sleepless nights.  I have worries about my son.  I have people who I know without a doubt have ulterior motives in their "kindness" toward me and Conner.  I know there are people who want our farm.  I know there are people who are just waiting for me to fail so that they may "pounce".  I have a gut of nerves all day long, every single day.

I know I'm not supposed to worry.  I know that I'm supposed to give all my worries to God, to lay them at His feet, and let His Grace and Mercy surround me and carry me.  I know all that.  But it doesn't seem to help.  It's like my brain, my heart, and my life just are in a constant struggle about what I sincerely do KNOW and the fear of the UNKNOWN.

I have a fear of failure.  Not just a fear of "farm life" failure, but also of raising my son well.  Of ever being able to "bounce back" and "move forward".  Of ever finding true happiness again, not in another man, but just in myself.  At this point in my life, and I know it's early still, but I just do not see myself ever finding love again.  I have no desire to.  I was too much in love with Mike.  I still am.  I have a fear of being able to make it without a wave knocking me to my knees.

All this hit me last night like a tsunami.

Not just a tiny wave that gently brushes your feet.  Not a small wave that is enough just to make you move a little, but still let you stand on your own two feet.  Not a wave that will carry you closer to shore for safety.  But a freaking tsunami.

I broke.  I called my sister and could barely speak when she answered.  The first thing I said was, "I just need to feel sorry for myself for a minute."

She listened as I cried to her, in sobs that left my words broken.  She listened patiently.  I cried out loud to her, "I can't believe he's gone.  I just had him and he's gone. I want him back so bad."

My life has not been a fairy tale, I can promise you.  I know so many people have so many worse things in their lives, but good grief.  I was finally happy.

It just seems like yesterday.  It seems like he should still just come back home from work any minute.  His truck still sits in its parking spot next to mine.  His clothes still hang in the closet.  His razor and deodorant are still kept in his bathroom drawer.  His office is still full of his wastewater books and equipment.  His smell is still on the last pair of clothes that were in our hamper the day he left.  His tools and equipment are still in the barn.  His coffee cups still sit in the cabinet, and I can't drink from them.  I look at them but can't drink from them.  His thermos still sits on the counter.  His boots still sit in the utility room.  His rain jacket still hangs on the hook and his Carhartt vest still rests in the living room.  His old Marine Corps ring still hangs around my neck.

He is still here.  But he is not.  And that is terrible.

I can't wait until the day we meet again.  I am going to hug him so tightly and never let him go again.

I love and miss you more than words, Babe.  I promise, Now, Forever, and Always times Infinity.

Love,
Veronica

A Letter From Heaven...

My heart aches yet again as I write this post.  It aches every day, but when it comes to my little boy, it shatters into tiny pieces all over again.  

Conner and I have both struggled with sleeping since Mike passed away.  There are many nights when Conner reaches for my hand, even while he sleeps.  I wake all hours of the night and then lay there wide awake worrying about bills and life in general, wondering what we would be doing right now and if Conner and I will "make it", and missing Mike until tears come and I flashback to both our wonderful memories and the most terrible day of my life.  It takes me hours to fall back to sleep and then I only doze.  I don't ever fully sleep.  I toss and turn, wake up crying, wake up sick to my stomach.  It's terrible. Conner tosses and turns all night long too and he wakes several times in the night now, where as in the beginning, he actually slept well.  His sleep habits are worsening.  

The other morning, in the early hours before daylight, Conner woke and reached for my hand again.  He said, "Mom, I had a bad dream."  He is going to be 11 in just a little more than a week, but his voice was like a tiny toddler's when he spoke.  I held his hand tightly and asked, "What was it bubba?"

He said, "Well, I dreamed about Dad.  In part of it we were on the four wheeler riding around and Dad was with me. When I looked over at the cows and turned back, he was gone."  My tears began, but I cried in silence.

Conner began to cry and then he said, "But that's not all.  The good part, well kind of good I guess, was that Dad wrote a letter from Heaven telling us what he would do if this hadn't all happened."  

My stomach sinks as I pen this for you, because it is so difficult to lose my husband, my best friend, my forever love.  But, the worst part in this whole mess of my life, is that I can't "fix it" for my little boy.  That's what moms are supposed to do, right?  "Fix it".  There is no "fixing this".  There is no relief, no magical cure, no counselor that automatically helps him heal, no steps passed it.  My son has lost his father, his best friend, his forever hero.  

So, for the past two days all I have thought about is what my husband would say if he were able to send our little boy a letter from Heaven. I sure do wish that I could send Mike a letter too, but here is what I imagine his letter might say.  

"Dear Conner,

Hey buddy, daddy sure does miss you and love you.  I'm sorry that I'm not there to be with you, son.  I hope you know that daddy never meant for any of this to happen.  I still can't believe it myself.  But I want you to know that I'm ok.  I'm doing great and can see you all the way up here from Heaven.  I get to talk to Grandpa Bob every day. We sit on a sunny hillside in the sunshine and talk and laugh all day long.  He sure wishes he could have met you.  Grandma Holly is up here too and she sure does like watching all of your adventures! You know who else wishes he could have met you?  Your Poppy Dave! He gets a kick out of you just as much as Grandma Holly does.  

So, there are some things I want to tell you son that I won't be able to in person.  I know we had lots of talks before I left, but I worry that you won't know what I wanted to tell you when you grow older.   

First, always respect and listen to your mom.  Daddy left her a big load and she is doing a good job trying to keep things together and going, but raising a rough little boy like you sure is tough for one momma to handle.  She is your rock, son, and she always will be. She was mine too.  Respect her.  Listen to her the FIRST time she says it.  Don't argue or yell with her.  Hug her lots every day because I miss being able to do that.  She's the best momma you will ever have, so please treat her like she deserves to be treated.

Second, you've got a lot of work cut out for you.  I sure do wish I had paid the farm off before I left so you could just work on it without having to worry about payments, but I didn't have time to do that. So, it's going to be hard work.  You're pretty young still so most of the work for now will be easy; Momma is going to have to do most of the big stuff, and she'll need some grown up help lots of times that you won't be able to do.  But when you do get big enough, be ready to work hard.  Make Daddy proud.  Take care of your cows.  Take care of the hay and the fences, and everything that comes with a farm.  But, if you grow one day to decide you don't want it, you don't have to do it.  I never forced your brother, so I won't force you.  I hope one day you appreciate what I tried to build for you there, but didn't get to finish.  I hope you see the beauty in the life of a new baby calf and the smell of fresh cut hay.  I hope you realize that was my dream.  To share that farm with you and your brother.  To one day be retired and sit on the front deck with your mom and watch you on that tractor in the hayfield, working hard and making me proud.  I sure do miss working with you.  You have always been a hard worker. 

Third, please keep doing good in school.  I am so proud of you for sticking with it even when you have been sad about me.  I know it's been tough, buddy, but you have so many friends and your teachers and everybody have been real nice this year.  You have stayed caught up with all your work and Momma told me about your last grade card! All A's and one B+!  That's so good, son.  I'm so proud of you. But, remember, you have a lot more years, so you keep at it. Remember when Daddy would tell you about some the grown ups I had to teach who didn't do good in school?  Well, it's a pain in rump, so you do good so you can go to college.  You focus on those grades because you'll regret it one day if you don't.  

Fourth, there's gonna be times when you get angry that I'm gone.  I think you're probably gonna be mad at me, at Mom, at God, at whoever you can.  Don't lose God, son, because I can tell you...even though I didn't go to church with you and Momma, I love God and he loves me and you.  Your faith in God, and especially the way you've kept that faith since all this happened, is so amazing to watch.  I hear you pray every day.  Sometimes it's at school, sometimes it's at home, and sometimes it's while driving in the truck.  Keep praying. Keep believing.  And keep going to church.  Don't ever go against your beliefs and your faith bub.  It's sometimes all you got.  

Fifth, girls.  Oh geez, did I have some stories I wanted to tell you when you get older.  Momma wouldn't have liked some of them! ha ha ha... Girls are awesome.  But, they are tricky too! Some of them are good and some are bad.  As much as I hate to admit it, your mom is right; she is the one who needs to give you relationship advice.  She was the best woman Daddy ever met.  She is the kind of woman I told you that you need to find one day, but not one day too soon.  Don't rush into anything with any girl, Conner, no matter how old you get.  But, if it feels right, and trust me, you'll know if it does, then go for it.  Don't hold back and be afraid of getting hurt.  If you fall in love like Daddy did with your momma, then you'll have butterflies in your stomach and you won't be able to quit grinning just at the thought of her.  You'll want to see her if even from a distance; you'll want to call her and hear her voice; you'll want to hold her hand and take her to your favorite places; you'll want to hold her tight and kiss her (I know, now you think it's gross, but when it's right and you're old enough, you won't); you'll want to build a life with her like Daddy did with Momma.  Don't ever hit a woman.  Ever.  Don't be mean to her and take your bad day out on her like I sometimes did your mom.  When you find the right one, she will be your rock.  She needs to be the one you slow dance with in the kitchen.  She needs to be the one you tell all your problems to.  She needs to be the one you run to, not from.  BUT, make sure Momma likes her too.  She will be the one that will kind of take the place of your mom in your life, so make it count.  Make sure she respects your mom.  Make sure she's a good one, son.  But another thing, don't let her run over you.  Don't let her push you away or treat you badly.  If she's any kind of a good woman, she won't, but I'm just warning you, there are some out there who will try to hurt you or get you one way or another.  Take your time to grow and have fun as a teenager and as a young man before you find "the one" and settle down.  

Finally, for now anyway, never doubt for one second how much I loved you on Earth and love you still in Heaven.  My gosh, the day you were born was one of the happiest days of my life.  You and your brother were so important to me. You two are the reason why I worked so hard.  I wanted to so badly to give you boys that farm one day.  I wanted to see you two as partners.  Both days you boys were born took my breath away.  You were so tiny and perfect and a gift to me and your mom.  I could have just sat and stared at you both for days.  Shoot, I did lots of times, just stare and watch you both.  You are so creative and imaginative, Conner.  You are so good at art and building things, and so many other things.  I love you more than any words that have ever been invented.  I would give anything to have not left you like I did.  I hope you know that.  I would have given anything to stay with you and to watch you grow and learn.  I would have given anything to see you become a dad one day.  I would give anything to hold you one more time, to hear "I Been Watching You" or "He's Mine" again and listen to you sing it to me.  My heart doesn't break every day up here like yours does down there, because in Heaven there is no sadness or pain, no sickness, no anything bad.  Daddy is happy.  But, that does not mean for one second that I forgot you or that I don't love you.  You are still my world.  You are still my little boy.  You are still my best friend.  So, talk to me.  Every day let me hear your voice.  I don't get to talk back, but I bet you can guess what I would say back.  

Well, I gotta go for now buddy.  Grandpa Bob has another story he wants to tell and I think Poppy Dave is gonna sit it on this one.  

You take care of yourself, Son, and of your mom.  Can you hug her and kiss her for me and tell her that I love her too?  Will you do the same for your brother?  Tell him how proud I am of him too and that I can't believe he's about to graduate?  Will you do that for me?  I miss you all so much, but remember, I'm not sad.  I'm not working today. I'm not lonely.  And you know what else?  I'm not ever leaving your heart.  I'm right there in your memories.  I'm in the sunshine and the spring flowers, I'm in the summer breezes and cool river, I'm in the fall colors that grace the farm with beauty and in the call of the turkeys, and I'm in the white sparkles of the snow as it falls to our farm.  I'm everywhere bubby and I will be with you forever.  

I love you, Conner, Now, Forever and Always times Infinity.  

Love, 

Daddy"

My Son's Life Has Changed...

When Mike and I first began dating, we talked of having a child of our own one day.  He had a son from his previous marriage, but I did not have any children yet. I wanted nothing more than to become a mom and a wife.  

Being a step mom had been very trying.  It was actually something that almost caused Mike and I to end things before we ever married.  I have been a step-child my entire life, but never truly appreciated all that my step-parents had been through until I was going through them myself.  I had never treated my step-parents with disrespect; however, I do remember wanting to see both of my parents together and not a "substitute" or "replacement" parent...even though that logic is just ludicrous!  

A step-child is in such a difficult position; afraid to love the new person too much, for fear of hurting their parent.  New boundaries are formed.  They see their parent with someone who is essentially a stranger to them.  Jealousies arise.  Fears arise.  Anger moves in.  And then doubt on the part of the new "step" takes over.  I wanted to feel like a "real" parent.  I wanted to be loved unconditionally.  I wanted a child more than anything ever in my life.  

Early on in our relationship, I unexpectedly had some health issues that I feared would prevent us from having a baby of our own.  My doctor quickly took care of some pre-cancer cells and life went back to normal very soon.  My fears were assuaged.  We would have no problem conceiving.  

I'll never forget the day that we learned 100% that we were pregnant.  I had taken a few, well...4 actually...Dollar General generic brand tests two days in a row.  We had been married a little more than two months when one evening I took yet another one of my DG brand tests and asked Mike to look at the line.  Did he see a second pink line, just barely?  I thought I could, but was so worried that maybe it was just me wanting it so badly that I was imagining that second line.  We had been married a little more than two months.

Mike took a look at the stick and said, "Well, I think it's there, but if you buy a Dollar General test, you're gonna get a Dollar General result.  So, I think you need to drive to Wal-Mart in the morning and get a real test.You have to get groceries anyway."

My stepson Tristan had a soccer game the following morning, so I rose extra early and drove 45 miles to the nearest Wal-Mart and purchased a brand new Clear Blue Easy Digital test.  I bought groceries and then headed back.  I quickly unloaded groceries at home, and even though I was tempted to try the "real test" at home, I wanted to wait to take it with Mike present.  

I arrived in town and went straight to the soccer game.  We sat and watched, never bringing up the subject of the test, as we did not want anyone knowing anything until pregnancy was confirmed.  So, immediately following the game, as we were walking back to our vehicles, Mike asked me what the test said.  I told him I didn't take it and was waiting for him.  At the time we owned a small rent house in city limits and we were remodeling it.  We went to the house and I took the test.  Within seconds the word PREGNANT appeared on the tiny screen and I screamed with excitement and jumped into Mike's arms.  We hugged and kissed and I cried; he just smiled ear to ear and said, "I told you it would happen, baby.  I'm glad you're happy."  

Nine wonderful months later (yes, I actually LOVED being pregnant), we were blessed with our angel boy, Conner.  He was tiny and perfect in every way.  

Conner and I have had such a strong relationship since he was born because due to Mike's work schedule, we spent more time together.  However, I have never seen a little boy worship his daddy the way I would soon grow to watch Conner worship Mike.  

From the time Conner was big enough, he would go with Mike anywhere and everywhere allowed. He watched every move he made and would often mimic Daddy's movements.  I remember one year Conner had a wooden "work bench" with plastic tools and he would say "'erk Daddy, 'erk."  He just couldn't pronounce his W yet.  Conner would get in his little car and start pedaling himself into another room saying, "Bye Mommy, I gotta go to 'erk.  Be 'ight back."  He fell in love with his daddy very early on and Mike fell just as hard.  

Weekends I would do anything I could to take Conner to see Mike, wherever Mike might be working. We would pack lunch and bring it to him, and Conner would just be so elated that he would literally shine with happiness from his beautiful brown eyes just to get to spend time with Daddy.  

Mike would often arrive home so late that it would be Conner's bedtime.  Several times I caught Mike holding Conner closely and dancing and singing softly to him in the living room.  Mike would never sing for me, but he would sing so softly and slow dance with his tiny boy in his arms.  I know that he wished so much that he could do the same with Tristan, but we did not see Tristan very often.  We would beg for him to come, but he was so attached to his mom and family, and I know that he must have felt guilt at some points, that he often did not want to join us.  Mike struggled with that every single day.  I have watched my husband cry way too many times over the fact that he did not get to have a relationship with his oldest son the way he had a relationship with his youngest.  He loved Tristan with all his soul, just the same as he loved Conner, but he could not force a relationship.  

Mike's and Conner's relationship came so easy. There were several songs over the years that reminded us of Mike and Conner, and Conner would learn them word for word.  "I Been Watching You" and "He's Mine", both by Rodney Atkins, could not describe my husband and son any better. 

And now, my little boy has lost his hero.  He has lost his best friend.  He has lost his confidant and secret keeper.  He has lost the other part of his heart.  And I don't know how to fix it.  I struggle every day with how to make my little boy hurt less, but I just haven't found a way.  Early on Conner was my strength.  He was the one telling me, "It's gonna be ok Mommy...it's gonna be ok.  We have each other and God and we're going to get through this."  He told me this infinite times early on.

He was the one who held me the first days and weeks.  And now, even while holding him, I can't make it better.  I can't lessen the pain.  I can't mend the pieces.  And that kills me.  For months Conner wasn't able to make it a full week of school.  He would get so upset that he made himself vomit.  He suffered from headaches, but slept well.  He ate well and even played well.  He would laugh often and remind me of Daddy stories.

As Conner's birthday approaches, things are getting worse.  He does not sleep well at night.  He reaches for my hand even as he sleeps.  His appetite has lessened.  He suffers worse now from separation anxiety than he ever has.  He finally admitted to me the other day that, "I'm afraid the same thing is going to happen to you or to me."

He is so afraid and angry as well.  He fights me on so many things and then ends up crying and saying that he knows he takes his anger out on me, but he just wishes his dad were here.  He just needs his dad and it isn't fair.  We cry.  A lot now.  My son's life has changed.  He is a different child and I hate that his childhood has been ruined now.  I hate that he is so broken and hurt that I wonder if he will every really enjoy life again like he used to.  I know that I won't, so how can I expect that he will?

We pray.  We see grief counselors.  We talk about Mike when Conner wants to.  We do as many fun activities as we can, but I can't afford fun all of the time, or I'm too tired and sick from the lack of sleep these past four months, that I haven't the energy for fun.

I just hate this for my son.  More than I hate it for me.  I hate this for my son.

He is still his daddy's son and his daddy is still his hero, but I'm just a mom.  I'm not his dad and I never will be.  But what I will do is love him through all the anger, through all the sadness, through all the tears.  I will continue to raise him as a strong Christian boy and hope and pray that this terrible tragedy does not ever turn him against himself, God, or others.  I am doing my best, but every day I doubt myself.

I just wish Mike was here.  Then I didn't doubt.

I am #stillhis and will love him Now, Forever, and Always times Infinity.

Love,
Veronica

A Hard Day

Spring has come in full force lately and it is absolutely beautiful outside. Birds sing in the early mornings and crickets and frogs sing for us in the evenings. The warmth and sunshine should make for better days, but when grief haunts you day and night...you never know when what should be a beautiful and happy day will turn to a sad and lonely day. 

Today was Tristan's last day of high school. He came to my room several times today and the first time he came by we took a picture together. I of course began crying. I cannot believe he is about to graduate and that his dad isn't going to be here to see it. It breaks my heart. 

I smiled for lots of pictures today not only with Tristan, but with several of the other seniors, as they have all been my students for years. 

I faked those smiles while literally my stomach churned all day with nerves. It has been a while since I had an alone moment to go talk to my husband. Conner isn't ready to return to the grave, so I do not have very many opportunities to go alone. My sister went with Conner on his field trip today so she was able to take him home with her afterward. This gave me time to go see Mike. 

On the road to the cemetery I began crying until I almost couldn't see the road in front of me. I yelled out loud at one point, "I just had you! And now you're gone...I just don't understand."

When I parked at the gate, I grabbed a handful of tissues and my blanket from under the truck seat. I slowly walked up the hill, across the freshly mowed grass toward where my husband rests. I spread the blanket and began crying and talking to Mike. I told him how much I miss him and how much I love him. I had a long one-sided conversation.

I hadn't seen it yet but when I arrived today his Marine Corps stone had arrived. I laid my hand on it and cried. I found myself running my hand across the engraved letters, feeling almost like touching it meant I was touching a part of him. 

I lowered myself to the blanket and closed my eyes while the warm Spring sunshine washed over me. I talked to my husband. I told him I love him and I miss him every single day. I held onto that stone and rubbed my hands across the letters over and over again. I cried until my eyes became swollen. 

Today should have been a day of celebration. A day to celebrate Tristan's last day of high school. A day to celebrate Conner's exciting field trip. A day to celebrate the beauty of Spring. Instead it was a day of grief, as usual.

I miss him more than words and hope that he can feel my love all the way to Heaven. 

I am #stillhis and love him more than words Now, Forever and Always times Infinity. 

Love,

Veronica