I want you to be patient with us. We don't always arrive where or when we say we will; sometimes the grief gets the best of us and we just cannot make it. Sometimes my little boy cannot make it to class for the anxiety that invades his wonderful, bright, and beautiful little boy mind. I want you to be patient with him, even more so than with me. Grief takes time...all the time it wants and it does not ask anyone for their opinion. Sometimes we have good days, like a lot of good days in a row. Then we are thrown into the pit of our darkest memories of the day he was taken and the day we put him in the ground and we cannot function. We are not pretending; we are not crying or acting sick to get out of anything; it is real. All of it and if we had a choice, I promise you we would be happy and everywhere with all smiles and laughter and doing our best. But, grief does not come for a little while and then go forever; it comes and goes, comes and goes, comes and goes...
I want you to just step back and give us space...when that is what we need. Don't expect too much togetherness with us. Oftentimes we need some alone time. Alone time with each other to process the memories of the loss we have endured. We don't always need to be around others when we are wrestling with our memories. Sometimes we literally just need you to step back from us to give us our space and time to cry and scream and whatever else. This one is a tough one though because sometimes we want you to come closer and just wrap your arms around us. Let us fall to the floor in sobs; fall with us. Hold us there. Hold on tight and just let us dampen your clothes with our tears. Hold us tighter when our screams get tighter. It's ok. It might be a weird place where we are when we just need to fall completely apart (again, we've no control, I promise), but that's ok. If you fall with us and hold us and let us cry...others will know we need you. Others will know it's not just some circus show; it is a pain like no other and we need pure unadulterated love from someone at that very moment, so it's ok to look like weirdos crying in a pile on the floor. You can explain later.
I want you to look at us like we are "normal". NO one looks at us the same anymore; looks of wonder, fear, sympathy..they are the ones we get now. From everyone. Just look at us the same as you used to. Yes, we are different. Yes, we have changed in more ways than you know...BUT...we are also the same too. I am the same Veronica who loves music, dancing, laughing, and her family. And Conner is the same boy who loves hunting, fishing, guns, the military, and his family. Remember that even in the midst of this tragedy, there are pieces of us that remain intact; they might be difficult to spot to the naked eye, but looking at us like we are ogres crossing the street makes us feel awkward. I literally dart my eyes to the ground to avoid the looks.
I want you to listen to us. Sometimes we need to talk about Mike at the most inconvenient times. I have called my sister at 10:00 at night because I couldn't breathe and I just needed to cry to her. I just needed to tell her for the millionth time that I don't understand and that I can't believe he is really gone. Yes, almost 15 months later I still need to call my sister and say those words. So, listen to us when we need to talk about Mike. He was our world and we miss him, but we love hearing his name and sharing stories of our lives with him. I have risen from restaurant tables and had to make a speedy exit because my breaths were coming in gasps and the tears were unstoppable from telling our story to our friends who will listen. It is good for us to talk about our story. We hope it will help others.
I want you to remain quiet. Telling us, "Well, it must have happened for a reason," or "Well, he's in a better place now," is not cool. You know what? I will never know the reason because God does not intend for me to know, but I don't need to hear that from you or from anyone else. I know it; I really do, but it doesn't make it any easier of a pill to swallow here on Earth. I will swallow that pill when The Good Lord shoves it down my gullet when I meet my husband at The Pearly Gates. Until then, keep your reasoning for my husband being ripped from my grips, my son's father/hero/best friend being torn from his hands, my mother's-in-law first born being gone in a heartbeat, to yourself. I don't need to hear about it. I don't need to hear either that he is in a better place. There is no better place for Mike than here with his family. I know you do not mean any harm in saying those things, but please don't.
I want you to pray for us. Pray for us every time you pray. Pray for our strength to keep breathing; for our will to keep living; for our patience and acceptance in times when they both seem the most fleeting; for our ability to forgive others' stupidity and rudeness; for our Faith to only increase; for us to get out from under the financial burden left upon my shoulders, and to get out from under it in a positive way; for us to one day have less anger -- anger toward Mike for leaving even though he didn't mean to, anger toward God for taking him, even though we know it is part of a Greater Plan, anger toward those who have talked in lies about us for no other purpose than pure malicious intent; for us to one day be free of any guilt we feel for our "what ifs" and "should haves" with Mike. Just pray for us. Pray for us.
I am exhausted so will close for tonight, but one day I want to stand on a stage, whether that is a church altar, a crowded women's conference, a stage at a widow's retreat... and tell our story. I want to help someone. I want them to know that what they are experiencing CAN be survived. I want to be that person who helps someone NOT give up hope. NOT give up faith. NOT give up life. So, one day.
I love you all who love us.
I love you Michael Richard and I miss you with every fiber of my soul, baby. I hope the sun is shining on your face and the warm breeze is blowing your dark hair.
P. S. Our boy is growing so good...he is so much like you it's scary! ;)
NFAxI...
#stillhis
Love, Veronica
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