Just An Update...

Hey baby, 

I know it's been a while since I've written, so as I sit on our front porch with the breeze blowing and the cows mooing, I thought I'd touch base. 

I don't write very often because Sometimes I just don't know what to say because so much of it is sad. I don't want to send those worries your way. I know you're watching but are also preoccupied with happier times in Heaven. That's how it should be. You don't know the fear and sadness Conner and I have down here. I'm glad of that, but I also know as my husband and as Conner's dad, you would want to know how we are. 

Con has been struggling as usual but did have a great week last week! Counseling was intense and he displayed anger like I've never seen. I think he's becoming angry with you but doesn't think that is an ok feeling to have, so he deflects it into me. His counselor was shocked and quite concerned, as she had never seen that side of him. She kept telling him how it is not ok to blame me for everything. But he does. 

She was concerned about the strength of his medication, but I think we are going to just stay with what we have and see. I worry sometimes people on the outside don't understand his anxiety and struggle. Sometimes I don't even understand it. I think others wonder if Conner is "making" himself cry and throw up; like he's making himself sad. Grief, especially this sudden and shocking magnitude of grief, is just like PTSD. As a matter of fact, many people do become diagnosed with PTSD after so much anxiety builds up over a loss or tragedy. I wish I could do more to help him, but I don't know what it would be. 

I've prayed. I've cried with him. I've laughed with him. I've fought with him and also held him close. I've sought counseling for him, both at school and externally. I've tried medication, which he is still taking full time. I've played the good cop and the bad. I've been lenient and strict. I'm a paradox of a momma. I hope you're not mad. I'm trying baby. Our little boy is trying. It's just that his entire world came to a halt and his young mind is trying to plan his future without you. It's unbearable for him. 

His grades are good though. You'd be so proud. And he's so witty. Like he seriously cracks me up. He just comes up with stuff that reminds me so much of you. And he's becoming quite the dancer! ;) He totally doesn't dance like you anymore. ;) no offense...lol. 

He prays such good prayers and all the time! Before he eats, before bed, just random. Makes me so proud. I hope one day he stops being so angry at me. 

He is getting crazy tall! He's gonna be as tall as my cousin John I hope. Remember how we used to always talk about him being built like John? He's gonna be  so handsome I don't know how I'm gonna keep the girls away from here! 

Our little boy is ornery and makes me want to scream out loud so often, but he also has the greatest, most caring heart I've ever seen. And he's so much like you. He misses his daddy. He misses happiness with life, just like I do. 

The house is still getting a few little makeover touches. I just feel like I need to bring more change, babe. Not to "blot you out" or take you away, but just to make a few changes to help with the healing. 

Probate and the audit are both still going. My lawyer doesn't communicate any thing positive very often so I've no idea half the time what's going on. Wish I did but I don't. Feels like I'm sinking sometimes though and there isn't one thing I can do about it. Seems to be no end in sight. 

We babysat the girls last weekend and Reagan, who just turned 3 you know, asked about you.  We were sitting at Jolly Cone and she kept asking something that at first sounded like "where's mine?" Took me a few times but I realized she was asking "where's Uncle Mike?" It took me a second to answer for the lump that welled in my throat. Conner and I just looked at each other and he held back tears. I just answered, "aw baby girl, he's in Heaven way up high looking down on us right now." She remembers early on me kissing your Marine Corps ring that dangled around my neck. I would hold it up and kiss it and say, "that's for Uncle Mike," and she would kiss it too.

Work is going well...busy but well! We have only 18 1/2 days (Con and I are about to make our paper countdown chain) left and I will have survived my first year as a principal! Some days I wonder how. 

We miss you still. We always will. I know that life has to go on; we are both trying hard to accept that but then little things like Reagan asking where you are, me going to prom for the first time during my teaching career without you as my date, or Conner breaking down in the middle of a happy day just because he misses you, happen and we sink back down.  

I hope one day we stay above water with no trouble and learn to only smile at the memories of life with you. Maybe eventually the sadness will only come on the "big" days and moments, but that sure isn't happening yet. 

I'll let you go for now baby. I just wanted to fill you in. Wish you were beside me on this porch right now.

We would talk and laugh and get lost in each other. Until I see you again...

NFAxI, 

#stillhis

Love,

Veronica 

I'm Coming Back...

It will be sixteen months in just a couple of weeks. The last several of those I've spent as a bad mom. 

My son and I had an intense conversation with lots of tears tonight. He has struggled a lot lately and I know why. He didn't just lose a dad. He lost me. The real me. The "before" me. And he has been scared to death not that I'm going to physically die, but that I already have and he's never gonna get me back. 

So I'm coming back. 

That is my promise to him. That is my promise to Mike. Mike would have been sad had it been me first instead of him, but I don't think (don't know for sure of course) that he would have fallen into the abyss of depression like I have. I don't want to take medication for it; I did for a while but didn't seem to make a difference, so I don't want to again. No anti-depressant can rebuild me as the mom I always imagined I would be. Only I can do that through the strength and endless grace of My Father. 

I realized tonight that my perfect little boy, who was once upon a time a 6 pound 0.04 ounce baby, has suffered multiplied the loss I have. He has watched his mom fall further and further into depression and has tried his best to pull her out with no success. 

He has had to tread lightly around me. He has spent many hours alone, whether that means in his room or outside where he feels like he isn't "bothering" me. He has been the brunt of my anger when I've gotten onto him by raising my voice. I have caught him many times watching me. I'll be dazed and off in my depression when I'll notice from my peripheral vision that he has stolen a glance. He's been looking for his mom. 

I have to come back. 

So I vowed some things to my son tonight, right before he held my hand and offered the most beautiful prayer. 

I vowed to put technology down more often and to hold his hand. To hug him just because, and really tight too. To have dance party drives to school like we used to. To look at him sometimes and just smile so he knows all I'm thinking is how incredibly much I love him. To take MINIMUM 10 minutes at the end of every day, no matter how late or how tired we both are, just to talk to him. I vowed to come back to him. 

Besides my vows to my son, I also know that I need to make a few more changes here at home. I need to put our beautiful email signs away. They need to come down from our bedroom walls so that I can pull them out when I need to, but not where they are staring me in the face every morning and every night. I need to give a pop of color and brighten it up so that it's not a shrine to my husband. I discussed this with Conner and he thinks it's a good idea too. It doesn't mean daddy is going away or that my love for him will ever. It doesn't mean I'll ever stop being Mike's wife. My little boy understands this and supports this. 

Conner and I talked and cried and hugged and prayed a LOT tonight. I am drained beyond measure but at least have a hopeful heart again. I told Conner it might take me a while to come all the way back, but you can bet it's starting now. Right now. 

So from all of my readers, even if it's only two of you, I am asking for prayers like you've never given before. Pray for me to come back. Please. 

We love you Michael. More than words and NFAxI...

Your wife and son

Thoughts For Today...

Yesterday sucked. I was stressed from the get-go and then that stress manifested a minor migraine/tension headache. This pain just pulsed all day and the nausea and shaking that came with it almost pushed me to the point of leaving work. But I knew I had to attend an important meeting after school so leaving was not an option. Feeling like vomiting at one's desk but knowing one hasn't the option of leaving just tends to increase said stress that increases said migraine/tension headache. Yeah. It was a sucky day. 

So, work was very stressful and this time of year for educators is like the energizer bunny on crack. It moves like lightening and keeps going and going and going and going... Seriously, it feels as if to-do lists only grow and now as an administrator my to-do list is new. I've never navigated the end of a school year as an administrator so most days I'm just winging it, trying to keep my building from imploding. Trying to support my teachers, but also ensure they are doing the best job they can for our kids. Trying to support my kids, some of whom are beyond the point of "done" and feel like no one cares. I have to convince them all (teachers and kids) that they are capable of creating magic! They truly are. Everyone is. 

And then I come home from work, and yesterday I was sick as a dog, and the whole creating magic belief is gone for myself. I'm not capable of creating magic or else I would bring my husband back and my son and I would not be grieving. We would return to our happy selves. My little boy is depressed. Truly and utterly depressed and anxious. He's not the same boy he was before. I'm not the same mom I was before. 

And it pisses me off that there is this definitive line in our lives: BEFORE MIKE and AFTER MIKE. Well I call BS! Why does there have to be this friggin' line? Why does it have to be CLEARLY evident that there is an "old" Conner and Veronica and a "new" Conner and Veronica? 

Yesterday I wanted to run away. Yesterday I wanted to throw in the towel and remove myself from this life, here in the same place as "before", living the same career as "before" (irrelevant that it's a new job, it's still public education), leaving this house that is flooded with Mike and with our infinite reminders of our tragic loss. Yesterday I wanted to sell. Pack up and move as soon as possible. Start fresh. Loss is devastating. Grief is debilitating. Life in the state of depression/anxiety is crippling. And then people on the outside don't understand. 

I wish I was financially and emotionally stable enough to homeschool my son and travel the world with him. To try to fill his childhood with as many wonderful memories as I possibly can because he has been robbed of so much. I wish I could go by a huge RV (the big bus kind), buy a curriculum, pack the RV full of what I know my son and I would need, and put the gearshift in drive. 

I feel some days like I am hurting, not helping, when it comes to my son's and my own grief. I am sad here. I am lonely. I am miserable at least part of most days. And so is Conner. 

We pray. We keep breathing. We hope. But we are constantly reminded in every photo, piece of furniture, nook and cranny of this house and farm. Even with new things like our couch, or in my Tahoe...places Mike has never graced with his presence, we still miss him. Simply because of that fact. He has never seen our Tahoe and he would have loved it. He has never sat on our new furniture and he would have napped on it daily probably. He has never seen me as a principal and he would be proud, and also think it was "hot"...lol. 

And because of all of this, some days just SUCK. And on those days, I can barely function. I don't want to talk to people, I don't have energy, etc... 

So to my friends and family, don't be offended by my lack of response or by my foul mood...my life is difficult. NO that does NOT mean I'm digging for "I'm sorry" or any other form of sympathy. My son and I are breathing, we have a home, I have a job, we have a vehicle, we have food and our health, etc...so all of my gratefulness is not gone. 

Just some days suck more than others and yesterday was one of them. Hopefully today is better. But have patience and understanding. We lost our world. We are both just trying to navigate this new one and there are no maps or compasses to help. Thank God He is in control and not us. 

I love you from the depths of my soul Michael Richard Hollis. I miss you. And so does our boy. Desperately. 

Today we will try to make better than yesterday. 

NFAxI

#stillhis

Love,

Veronica 

My Own Mortality...

Losing Mike has brought my own mortality to the forefront of my mind. It has also been brought to my little boy's mind. 

Conner can't help but fear that I will die suddenly just like his dad did. He cannot stand to be away from me for very long at all and even when he is, he is constantly texting me "I love you". Don't get me wrong, I absolutely love his messages. But I hate that he has so much fear in his little boy mind that he sends them out of that fear. 

I spoke to a good friend yesterday who said that her husband, who is in his 30s now I think, lost his dad as well. He was 11 when his dad passed suddenly. His emotions and mental state were exactly what I know Conner's are. 

My friend told me that her husband said he would not leave his mom either and he had such anxiety over the fear of suddenly losing her as well. 

Her husband also is cognizant every single day that his dad isn't here. She said that even today her husband will do small things, like go to purchase a pull-behind trailer and will say, "I wish more than anything my dad was here to help me make this decision. He would know which one I should buy."

And that's just a small step to want one's father around for. She said when their first son was born her husband cried terribly hard. She at first thought they were tears of joy; they weren't. He was so incredibly sad that his dad wasn't there. 

And that's what my little boy has to live with for the rest of his life. And Tristan...he is closer to those life changing moments and he will long for Mike, I know. 

We haven't seen Tristan for more than a few minutes in a very long time, but we recently purchased a four wheeler from his stepdad's shop and when we went by yesterday for some paperwork, Tristan was there. He actually asked if Conner wanted to spend today with him. I know the look of surprise had to be evident on my face, but my heart overflowed with immense joy at that single moment. I so incredibly wish our relationship with Tristan was what it used to be. I miss him. His brother misses him. 

And on the drive home I thought about how much I am positive Tristan wishes his dad was here too.  Tristan has been going to college and I think what he must want to tell his dad about classes, or the girls, or whatever. He has recently accepted a summer job with MoDot and I think Mike would be proud of that; I bet Tristan would love to hear his dad say that. 

I doubt that Tristan has the same fear of his mom's mortality as Conner does, but only because Tristan is older. His mind is preparing him to become a man. He is working and going to college. Conner's mind is just trying to make it through each day without throwing up or missing class to stay in the counselor's office all day due to his overwhelming anxiety. 

And there is nothing I can do for either of the boys and THAT breaks my soul into a million pieces. How do you convince your young child that nothing is going to happen to you when you don't know? You were never prepared to lose your spouse and to have to tell your child he/she is gone. 

So how can you convince your child that you will be ok? Your spouse wasn't sick...you aren't sick. Your spouse was careful...you are careful. But it's irrelevant. God is the only One who knows when, where, how and why. And I might be able to accept that (sometimes with serious issues), but I just can't figure out how to help an 11-year-old accept that. That totally unexpected, shocking and devastating phone call changed my son's and my stepson's lives forever. And ALL of us would give anything to have Mike back. 

We miss you immeasurably baby. And love you so much still. Your boys are growing and working so hard to make a normal day out of their grief, but I know it riddles their minds as much as it riddles mine. I wish you could see all that they are doing and all that they are becoming. I am beyond proud of them both. 

We wish our family was whole again. Back to our perfectly imperfect life that we loved so much. 

May the sun shine brightly on your smile today, sweetheart. 

NFAxI

#stillhis

Love,

Veronica