Friday, December 7, 2018

Birthday Remembrances

Your birthdays are hard for me as a mother.  To have born a child and not have him is beyond words.  My heart aches all of the time but especially on those days where people celebrate.  People say to remember the good times and be thankful for the time you had as if that will take away the ache.  It doesn't.  Of course I'm thankful for the good times, hell I'm thankful for the bad times.  I'd give anything for more time.  As I was driving home from work it hurt so badly I thought for a moment I'd like to turn into oncoming traffic and end the ache.  Sometimes it's just so damn hard. 

I am so grateful for videos, pictures, your friends, their memories, and most especially for all the music you ever put down in recording.  To have your voice still, to see your face still, I'm so grateful.  I remember your beautiful feet.  Never have I seen such beautiful feet.  You could have been a foot model!  And your hands.  Your wonderful hands.  Your talented hands.  How I miss your hands.  Your smile.  How I miss your smile.  Mumzie - I miss you calling me mumzie.  I miss your geeky way of being fascinated by all things science and world creation.  I miss your marijuana arguments.  How happy you'd be to know medical marijuana has been legalized in Utah.  I miss the way you loved having girlfriends and the joy they brought into your life.  You could never believe such beautiful girls could like you.  You were so unaware of how handsome and cool you really were.  Everyone wanted to be around you. I miss you being an uncle.  How you loved Miles, Keira, Beck and Bob.  You were the best Uncle Fries. 

Remember learning to drive a clutch?  I remember stalling out several times at 1600 S and Main Street in Orem.  You were so frustrated.  I still smile about that day.  I remember you earning $100 for going a year without any tickets or accidents.  A feat your brothers never did.  I remember the beautiful lawns we had because you made patterns that varied every time you mowed.  Ever the artist.  I remember sending you to Camp Wild and Trek.  You hated that you had to go.  You came back with fond memories of Camp Wild but how you hated Trek.  I felt so badly for putting you through that one.  Remember your break up with Lexi?  That about killed you.  You called me to drive up to you.  You sobbed.  But you were always confident in my recommendations and when I told you it was a time for change for you and a musical change for the positive you immediately started writing the songs that we all love so much.  You became so upbeat.  Remember baseball?  Remember getting all of the outs in one inning off one play?  Remember guitar lessons and your teacher saying you were better than him?  Remember the Christmas treasure hunt for your guitar?  Best Christmas ever.  Remember being Mr. Peanut for Halloween?  Best costume ever.  You always challenged me at Halloween.  Remember Christmas at the beach in Hawaii?  Maybe that was the best one ever???  Remember the night you taught me about unconditional love?  You wouldn't quit until I got it.  How your brothers are thankful for that one.  Best lesson I ever learned.  Remember Muse and The Velour and the Conversationalists and Super Moon and Lake Island?  Remember getting Gemma into the Conversationalists?  Remember the concert in our front room, the way you decorated with white lights?  Remember Dad and me catching you and LeAnne on the blanket at Nielson's Grove?  Remember the trip with Jonny to Oregon?  Remember the trip to Oregon when Miles was born?  Those pictures are so precious.  Remember sleeping with Dakota in the kitchen in Fargo?  Remember the day we put her down how we bawled like babies in the back of Terry's truck.  It was you and me kid.  I was so thankful to have you with me.  Remember the nights I'd come into you and Ben's bedroom in Cedar Valley and sing songs to you before you went to sleep?  Remember your first nursery in Fargo?  It's the only nursery I ever made.  None of the other boys had one.  The stars and moons?  I'll never forget the day you were born.  You were the only child for whom I didn't go into labor.  It's like you were content.  You didn't need to go anywhere.  You were always a home body.  Is that why you left us?  You wanted to go home?  God I miss you Elijah.  I miss you so much.  My holidays lack joy without you. 

Ana Miller posted a picture today of you as a baby.  I didn't have the picture.  It's a picture of you smiling at me as a baby.  It's just you and me.  Oh how I love you.  Oh how I miss you. 


You're my sun.

Monday, November 19, 2018

I know you would be disappointed

Sometimes my heart feels like it is breaking inside me.  This time of year is so hard.  For a while I was feeling excited, like I wanted to decorate the house for Christmas because it made me think of you and how excited you would be to get a tree.  I told Dad we should decorate on your birthday like you wanted.  Then, as I went into the store and heard Nat King Cole sing "Chestnuts roasting on an open fire" I practically lost it.  That was the song I always played Christmas morning.  It reminded me of my childhood.  Now, I hear those Time Life Christmas songs and my heart just aches.  You'd be so disappointed.  You knew life went on everyday.  But Elijah, you'd never known death of a loved one.  My heart physically hurts.  Sometimes the ache is so deep and so hard I wonder how I can continue to live with such pain.  You'd be 26 this year in a couple of weeks.  You died at 23.  Everyday since then my heart hurts a little every day.  It hasn't stopped.  Some days it's bearable.  Other days, like today, it hurts so much physically, emotionally, and mentally that I can't believe I am still breathing.  I know if your brothers were around they'd be so sad to see me still aching so.  It's just not right that a child goes before a parent.  Nothing in the world prepares you for that.  Nothing.  Nothing in the world buffers the pain.  Nothing. 

Tuesday, July 31, 2018

Wednesday, July 11, 2018

Will I burst?

Everywhere I go - memories of you.  Sometimes I think I will just burst.

A Bed For My Heart



This picture was posted to me by Rebecca (Hurst).

The artwork is called Melancholy by Albert György in Geneva, Switzerland.  John Maddox posted this powerful photo with the following quote, "We may look as if we carry on with our lives as before. We may even have times of joy and happiness. Everything may seem “normal”. But THIS, “Emptiness” is how we all feel... all the time." 

It's nice when someone gets that my life has changed forever and how.

Emptiness in so many ways.

Life is so different now Elijah.  I'm sorry I'm so sad.  I'm sorry if I disappoint you.  I just hurt.  It doesn't go away.

Sunday, June 3, 2018

You have a great family who loves and misses you

Elijah,

This is the time of year for us.  Remembering the day you died.  We seem to be right back to June 2, 2016 everytime.  There's no way around it.  We just have to go through it.  Not having you with us is so very, very hard.  You were such a beautiful person.  Are you still out there?  If God exists and you are, will he ever let you come to us?  If you have come to us and we're just the ones not seeing or feeling, what do we have to do to connect?  I wish someoen could know and show me the way.  Why do some people get to see those that have gone beyond?  Is that real?  I want that.  Instead, we all go to places that are sacred to us and spread your ashes.  Yesterday you became a part of the Mountainview Baseball Field at shortstop and home plate.  You know, in the whole time you played baseball, I never saw it from your vantage point.  It was beautiful. 

Your ashes are now in Capital Reef National Park.  Dad climbed a couple of places to spread them.  Ryan put your ashes with a 300 year old tree in Portland.  Michael, Keira, and Miles spread them at the studio where Michael recorded your cd.  Ben drove to Indianapolis to spread some by a tree at the Simon Cancer Center.  He finally saw where you fought a hard fight; where people tried so hard to save you.  The place that allowed us to have another year with you.

Josalyn Pierce sent me a quote I will try to live by Elijah. "I don't want your legacy to be that your death permanently broke me.  Your life, your love, and my love for you will sustain my survival."

I'm in a survival mode especially this weekend.  I know you'd want me to live, really live like you wanted to.  I just can't do that yet Elijah.  My heart hurts so very much still.  I'm sorry if I disappoint you but I'm a mother without her baby boy and that is so very hard.  I love you forever, I like you for always.  As long as I'm living my baby you'll be.

Love,
Mom

Saturday, June 2, 2018

Was it yesterday or forever ago?

Two years today.  Two years of everyday sadness and living.  How does this happen?  Why don't I just break?  How is it even possible that I live, breathe, work, laugh sometimes, play, eat, vacation all while having a gaping hole in my heart.  I awaken to thoughts of missing you.  I go to sleep wondering if you are out there.  Do you see us?  Do you ever check in?  Or, are you just gone- only living in my aching heart?  I used to believe this fairy tale that life is eternal, that families are together forever, that we grow, we continue to learn, and we continue.  I have no evidence you are anywhere.  You've been absent for two years.  No visit to let me know you're ok.  No feeling of nearness.  Nothing but empty loneliness.  Church hurts.  It's a place where they speak of miraculous healings, of visitations of spirits gone from the earth.  I've experienced none of these things so it hurts to feel unworthy of them.  All I can do is breathe and keep going until I can't.  It all seems so totally impossible.

I look at the trees in full bloom.  I recognize that everyday the earth's fruits change.  Trees live a long time but sometimes Mother Earth sends disasters that cut their lives short.  Other trees take their place.  Why shouldn't it be so with people?  None of us are born to live forever.  I understand that.  What I now understand is that while living we have deep cuts that leave scars and like trees that drip maple syrup from holes cut in them, I will drip tears from the hole in my heart until my roots whither up and I leave this earth.