To My Son

The moment I became a mother for the first time with your sister, I knew I wanted nothing more but to me a mother. My life has been built around each and every one of you children, but you my youngest child are the hardest to let go of. You came into this world when we were uncertain we were going to be able to even meet you. First we found out we were expecting you, then we found out we were pregnant with twins. We however had short lived happiness that then turned to fear and sadness as we had lost your twin in the beginning of our pregnancy. I was so afraid I was going to lose you as well. But you, you showed us what a fighter you were, you held on and made a grand entrance into the world.

I remember the stage of you learning to walk, you were persistent to walk at 10 months old, not crawl. You knew that walking was going to get you where you wanted to be. It was like you did the same with talking. It seemed there were no small words other than mama and dada. You were talking in full sentences using big words, not small ones.  Every milestone you met in life, was celebrated because we were so grateful to have you. You battled through asthma, many hospital stays and even daily growth shots that helped you grow without a complaint.

You are a fighter and you stand up for what you know is right, but you have the sweetest heart. You love the people in your life fully and have such a sense of devotion to them and that seems to be a rare thing these days. When you set out to do something, you give 100% to whatever you are doing. The drive and ambition you have is one of your greatest attributes. You set out to prove to everyone that stacked the odds against you and set to prove to those who failed to give you a chance that you can in fact do it, and you did.

This next chapter for you is a hard stage as you really aren’t an adolescent anymore, but you are becoming a man. I can only hope that we have equipped you with all of the necessary tools to become a wonderful man. There is no doubt you will be a wonderful man, because in my eyes you are perfect.

Always, and I mean always look up to God. Don't just pray to him when things are hard, seek him in your life, build a relationship with him. So please, be a Godly man, not a worldly man.

Be yourself. You have always had a charming and captivating personality, keep your sense of humor. Always laugh at yourself. You are funny and love to see others laugh. You are a trendsetter. I hope you stay that way! When you were little, you refused to wear white socks, they had to be bright and colorful, take that same thought out into the world.

You are an attractive, smart, humble, kind and even stubborn young man. That stubbornness you have, your dad says you get from me will get you far in life, but it can also hold you back. So be smart enough to see when you need to compromise and admit when you are wrong.  There are times it is ok to not be stubborn.

Stay true to yourself my son, do not let others dictate where you stand on something that matters to you. After all, being a man is doing the right thing even when others are against it. Be true to yourself, be who you are, be brave enough to say what you think and feel. The best advice my father gave me was “never compromise who you are because of someone else’s beliefs.” I think this holds true for you as you start this next chapter of your story.

Forgive and forgive quickly. Life is short as I have learned. Spend more time being happy than angry.

Be your brother’s keeper by taking care of you neighbor. I tried to teach you to give to those in need even if they don’t seem to need the help. It isn’t for us to question and wonder if they are being honest, that is between them and God. However, it is up to us to help them. Always listen to that little voice telling you to give, even if you have nothing to give.

Don’t lose faith in mankind. We are all imperfect and flawed and at times even ugly. Try to always find the good in others.

As I sit here and reflect over the last eighteen years with you, I realize the time I have as a mother influencing you is drawing to a close and the next phase will be you making decisions on your own. My life as a mom has been a ride of  beautiful chaos and I would not trade a moment of it. 

The football and baseball games, the first and last day of school photos, the days of a houseful of teenage boys after a Friday night football game, the endless loads of laundry, the running to and from events and practices, the nagging of getting homework and studying done, the special Oreo cookie requests when I go grocery shopping and the way you yell Maaaaa as you enter the back door to tell me about your day are also coming to an end.

I know nothing different other than being this hands on mom where the moments of chaos bring me craziness, yet happiness. What you feel, I feel.  When you cry, I cry. When you had a broken heart, I felt your pain and would have given anything to take it away. When you struggle, I struggle. When you laugh, I laugh. When you are happy, I am happy.

You see son, being a mom is more than nagging you and feeding you. You are a part of me.

I am your biggest fan, your biggest cheerleader, your loudest voice and your biggest advocate.

So as I struggle to let go of you over the next few months please bear with me as I am letting go of a part of me, a part of my identity. I know you are anxious to get out of here, but I am not as anxious to let you go. I wish I could go back to the days of rocking you to sleep as I hummed you a lullaby, or the days of you crawling up on my lap to give me hug and a kiss. I truly wish I would have given you more of myself over the years. So please learn from me son. It is ok to work hard, but take time to stop and enjoy the view as you are climbing mountains.

I am sad to let you go out into this world, but I am excited to watch you write the chapters for the story of your life.

Be a good person and do good things in this world. You can change the world and the world is yours.

"I'll love you forever
I'll like you for always
As long as I'm living
My baby you'll be."

I love you always!

Mom

Thank You Papa

It is an insane thought to some that at the age of 43 I am still a daddy’s girl; that I could still need you the same way I did when I was younger. The truth is that I do still need you, and that will never change.

There are countless reasons why you are so important to me, and there are an equal amount of lessons that you have also shown over the years.

Thank you for falling in love with our mother all of those years ago. As us children watched you and mom over the years, through the good and bad, you showed us what it meant to love unconditionally, fully and most importantly selflessly.  You taught me to love in a manner that was faithful and true, and that your word was what mattered. As we watched mom fall gravely ill prior to her passing, we watched you show us that act of selfless unconditional love yet again. I watched you work hard at your full time job to come home and care for mom for whatever she needed. You never complained and never did you allow mom to feel like a burden to you. I can still vividly remember you never leaving her side in her final days, your love was so strong that in her final breaths, mom managed to kiss you one last time as you said I love you to her. I remember thinking that I hope mine and Jeremy’s love would be that strong for us at that stage of life.

Thank you for marrying Kim. You showed me that you can love again after the loss of love.  You love Kim in the same manner that you taught us growing up. You love her deeply and genuinely. You showed me to not fear falling in love again after a loss and that love can be beautiful again.  

Thank you for teaching me your work ethic and the importance of working hard for what I want. When I was a young girl, I can remember that it seemed as if you were always on the go. Not because you were out running around and drinking, but because you were busy working what seemed like two full time jobs just take care of us. You sacrificed yourself to provide your family with what we needed and at times with what we wanted. You often did without things you wanted so we could have what we needed.

Thank you for teaching me that even a penny has spending value. Though I really did not care for that lesson at the time, it resonates with me today.  Do you remember that one? I swept up a penny as I was doing my chores and threw it away. You then had me dig it out of the trash and not from the top either. You shook the trash can so I had to dig a bit for it. I remember thinking are you kidding me? But today, I pick up a penny and put it in a jar.

Thank you for showing me that it is our job to take care of our neighbor. Years ago we were  in Toledo and there was a man in a van who had no gas to get home. You didn’t question him at all when he asked you for cash, you simply pulled out your wallet and handed him your last twenty dollars. I remember asking you why you gave it to him. You said because he needed it and if I didn’t help him, who would? I then asked what if he didn’t get gas and your reply was simply that it isn’t for me to question him or judge. It is simply my job to help. To this day, that sticks with me and I do the exact same things, and at times maybe I shouldn’t but as you said, it isn’t for me to question.

Thank you for teaching me to stand up for myself and what is right. You would always say to me to stand up for what you believe in, even if others think it is wrong, but NEVER compromise who you are in the process. You taught me that with every action, there is a reaction and with every decision there is a consequence.

Thank you for teaching me to have a voice.

Thank you for being my safety in life. I would look forward to holiday dinners at grannies because that meant you got a day off work. I can vividly remember climbing up on the couch and snuggling with you in the living room just to be with you while we were there. I would just sit beside you with my head on your chest listening to your heartbeat as you talked and laughed with your brothers. On those days,  I was happy, content and most importantly safe. I knew whatever happened, I had you.

Thank you for showing me to have a sense of humor in life. Even if it is a goofy sense of humor that we have, at least we have one.

Thank you for supporting my boyfriend choices in my younger days even if you didn’t agree. When I had a broken heart from those “bad choices” you never said I told you so. You simply hugged me and gave me the there are more fish in the sea talk.

Thank you for never leaving my side. When Tommy went into his coma, you sacrificed losing your job to be with me every waking moment. For almost a week you drove me to and from the hospital on that hour trip each way daily and you never complained. In fact, you held me up when I couldn’t stand. You spoke for me when I couldn’t speak and you certainly did this through the process of his death as well. I am not sure how I would have gotten through that stage of life without you there.

Thank you for never being embarrassed by me. Let’s face it, I have made some crappy decisions and there are times you as a parent could have been ashamed, but you never were. When I became pregnant as a teenager, you never said a cross word to me. You sat me in your lap, and held me as we both cried and told me it was going to alright. Again, I laid there with my head on your chest and in that moment, I knew everything was going to be ok.

Thank you for loving my husband as if he were you own. It means so much to me to know that the two men I love the most have a great relationship and genuinely love each other. I know that without question, you love him in the same manner that you love your children.

Thank you for being the best Grandpa to my kids. At times, prior to marrying Jeremy, you filled the dad role as much as the grandpa role. All these lessons you taught me in life, you taught them as well. The lesson I think you taught the oldest ones is loyalty when you love someone. That when you love someone, you don’t walk out. 

Thank you for teaching me to not be a typical girl. You taught me how to fix cars, change a tire, change the oil, install a dishwasher, and how to jerry rig anything under the sun. You taught me to think outside of the box when I am trying to problem solve or repair something.

Thank you for accepting my friends as your own children as well. You made campouts with the girl’s from town fun and eventful. You would scare us like no tomorrow with your masks and lord knows what else you used to terrorize us. When you caught us girls toilet papering the neighbors trees and soaping their cars, you waited until you we were done to let us know you had been following us. You then gave us all the lesson as you made sure we removed the toilet paper and soap from the neighbors  trees and cars that it was still vandalizing someone else’s property even as innocent as it was. You explained to us girls that people work hard to pay for their houses and cars, we are not to be disrespectful by doing what we did.

Thank you for being my calm in my storm. It seems that when I can’t figure out what to do, say or even how to feel, you do. I know that I can call you anytime you will answer me. Sometimes you just listen, sometimes you give your advice and sometimes you hang up the phone to come see for yourself that I am ok. I know in the times I may feel alone, I am not. Most recently, you watched me deal with the loss of Nancy. You listened to me as I sobbed and couldn’t figure out why this happening, and you just let me go through every emotion I had as I just lost my lifelong best friend. I know your heart was as broken as mine because she was like one of your kids, but you still found a way to help me through. You came to the funeral home and sat with me and the sea of people that were there. There were many times I got pulled away, but you sat right where you were so I could find you. You wanted me to know that I wasn’t alone in this grief. You then came to the funeral and as we were exiting the church, you thanked her mom for allowing you to be a part of Nancy’s life all of those years.

Thank you for soothing me when I needed it. I remember calling you when your youngest grandson had his car accident. I was composed until I heard your voice. There were sirens all around me as I was on the phone with you and as I was going over everything that happened, I found a sense of calming as you reassured me everything was going to be ok.

Thank you for teaching me music soothes the soul. Whatever I am feeling I am bound to find a song that I can relate to the stage of life I am in. I will never forget sitting in the front middle of the van on the motor on our way to Texas and listening to oldies with you, especially Elvis. You would sing Elvis often and on Sundays, we would listen to Elvis gospel. I remember you explain to me the song “In the Ghetto” to me and what it meant. You love that song as much as you love “My Way”. That same value in music has been taught to my kids, and now their kids. 

Thank you for showing me to take care of people in their time of need, even if that means you do without. This was the lesson that was the hardest to do in my childhood, however, today it is probably the most monumental. It was Christmas time, and a family friend had a house fire where they lost everything. They had kids around our kids’ age, so you asked us kids if we would be willing to give up our Christmas gifts to them. We still had toys to play with but they lost their toys in the fire, so of course we said yes knowing how important it was to you to help someone out.

Thank you for being humble and showing me that gloating is not how you handle compliments and good deeds. Whenever one of us kids say thank you for something, you do not reply you are welcome as most people do. You say “That’s My Job” in reference to the Conway Twitty song you have played for each of us. To this day, I hear that song and cry, out of love of course.

So I would like to simply say thank you papa. Thank you for showing me what a good, loving, strong, compassionate, selfless and devoted dad really is. I truly would not be the person I am today had it not been for you “doing your job”

I love you papa!

Fourteen Days After

It has been fourteen days since you unexpectedly left us and it seems we are all reeling from our shock, pain and grief. The funeral has come and gone and personally I do not what way to turn in dealing with this gaping hole left in my heart. We are all different people who had a different relationship with you. We are all grieving the significant loss of you my friend in our own way. Your amazing children are grieving the loss of their mother and wondering how life would be if you were here, your beautiful mom is grieving the loss of her daughter, your siblings are grieving the loss of their sister, your family is dealing with their loss, your love is grieving the loss of his love, the what could have beens, your friends are dealing with the loss of their close friend and for some grieving the loss of their best friend, and I am dealing with the loss of my lifelong best friend. We are all feeling differently, yet the same in so many ways. You impacted us all, even strangers in a way none of us could have been prepared for.

There have been so many things that have happened just in the last two weeks that I wanted to tell you about. Like the day of your funeral, we had a baseball game in Antwerp that we literally went to straight from the church. The lilacs were in bloom there, so I went over to this person’s yard and walked around that bush smelling the lilacs. I am sure that they thought that I was crazy, but I made a promise to enjoy the fragrance of lilacs to you, so I did. I am sure you were up in heaven laughing hysterically at that sight. Then, I went to call you yesterday on Brayden’s prom day just to be reminded I would get your voicemail, or worse yet, a disconnection sound. This new normal is something I didn’t think would happen, at least for a long time. We had so much time ahead of us, so many great things as we grew old together. So instead of calling you or texting you, I find myself talking out loud, wherever I am hoping that you may hear me.

I miss you, there is no other way to say it. I miss your corky personality that always would make anyone around you laugh. I miss the way you would smart off the way only you could. I miss hearing you nag me to do something I really didn’t want to do and if I said no, you went straight to Jeremy to get him on board so he would convince to do whatever it was you wanted me to do. I miss the late night calls and texts, I miss the days when it was us against the world. I miss hearing your voice, hearing your laugh, getting a headlock in place of a hug at times. I miss you.

There are moments where this pain is too much to bear. I try as hard as I can to stay busy and help others with their grief, so maybe, just maybe I won’t have to accept this reality. I always tell everyone I am fine when asked how I am, when in reality I am not even close to fine. Last week after work I stopped by and seen you, went by your old house in town and then went to the accident scene. I almost fell a part, almost. Maybe part of me thinks if I do not let myself grieve, then this will not be real, that you really won’t be gone. The last time I felt a pain even comparable to what I am feeling now, you were there to wipe my tears and tell me everything was going to be ok. But my reality is you are not here to do that, you leaving is the reason I and so many others are in tears.

I tend to feel more sadness than happiness these days. When I think of you a smile will come across my face, then I am reminded that your leaving is why I am so sad and a frown returns. I have to drive by the scene of your accident once a week to get to work. The timing for me is surreal because the sun is rising at the location where your earthly journey ended. As cliché as it sounds, that is where I feel I need to really say goodbye, to end our journey together there. On those days, or days of extreme grief, I try to envision you in all of your heavenly glory, and that will often bring a comfort to me as I struggle. I know you have to be one of the most beautiful angels up there.

I find myself shutting others around me out, pretending to be ok. As crazy as it sounds, in some ways, I feel like I am betraying you by allowing others to comfort me, to wipe away the tears for you.  I say that it is crazy because I know we both had other friends, even other best friends, but you have always been my go to person and I don’t know how to open that door for someone else let alone allow someone else to do the things you would do for me. That is just unthinkable right now. My poor husband has no idea how to help me, because like everyone else I have shut him out too. I imagine it is painful to watch your wife, your love spinning out of control and there is nothing you can do to comfort her because quite frankly, he has no idea what I need because I don’t even know what I need. He knows as well as anyone what we meant to each other, but he is dealing with his own grief with losing you, so why should I burden him with mine.

We were so alike, yet we were different is so many ways. I am a planner, a thinker. You were a free spirit, a take life as it comes person. You truly taught me to enjoy life and not plan every little detail. I have found myself reflecting so much on our memories and right now so many things are clouded with this overwhelming grief. I think about how much we have changed and grown over the last 35 plus years. One of your biggest lessons you strived to live and tach, is one that we are now dealing with, which is forgive those you love, embrace today because we never know what tomorrow holds.

God how I wish I had a tomorrow with you.