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.
Friday, December 7, 2018
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, November 13, 2018
Vinyl Record Skip
My life vinyl record has been scratched and when played just keeps skipping and over and over and over the sound it makes is I miss you.
Tuesday, July 31, 2018
Wednesday, July 11, 2018
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.
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