Dear Brian,

I am thinking of you and Paxton a lot today for some reason.  It has been a sad day today.  I saw a movie that had a baby that looked so much like Paxton.  Even had on a shirt identical to one that he wore a lot and he was the same age.  I still see you both everywhere.  I  catch myself looking for both of you in crowds and sometimes when I see babies that remind me of Paxton I want to just stay close to them and soak in their sweetness.  Sometimes in stores I follow their moms down a few aisles just so I can see him a little longer and feel him close to me again.  

I've set Sunday afternoons aside as the time I give myself  to cry.  Dad watches the race downstairs and I have some private time to myself.  So that I don't "break" in front of people or in public anymore I designated a day when I know I can be alone and I come in the office and I can miss you both all I want and out loud if I need to.  I allow myself time to just sit with my grief, cry and be sad. And sometimes I just sit here and think of things I remember because I want to keep you both fresh in my mind.  I had you a long time but Paxton has been gone way longer than the two years and eight month that I had him so I am so afraid that I will forget.  Not him, of course but the essence of him.  His silent sweetness, his funny little ways, our little games and how much they amused him, his first words, the sound of his voice and the "baby" way he pronounced words. That sweet baby smell, his giggle, what he felt like snuggled up to me asleep.  Little sweet or funny things he did like pretending to sneeze when he was so little and laughing when I said "Bless You!" because he knew it was a joke.  And how we used to play hide and seek and he'd lead me to the linen closet and shut me in and then pretend to look for me until he would open the door and "find" me right where he'd left me.  

These are the precious things that I never want to lose but I am so afraid that I will.  

I know there were a million little things that you all did or said that I was sure I'd never forget - but I did.  So I know its possible and so I try to remember all the little details that I can so that they will stay fresh in my memory and he will stay alive in my heart.  

So today is Saturday --not my day and yet I'm sad and grieving fiercely today. Not sure what's up with that unless it is the baby in the movie. 

Sometimes those little coincidences, like dreams, seem like little gifts from God.  Little snippets of you or Paxton that I find in crowds or in movies that give me a little private visit from you. I will take them.  And I am thankful to God for them even if they do make me sad afterwards.

I think lately about how everyday I'm a little closer to being with you all again.  Until then I will see you in my dreams or at the mall or in the babies I see on movies and I will think of you all and miss you still everyday.

 

What I would tell Brian if I could talk to him one more time...

My grandson asked me this past week if I had one more chance to talk one on one with Brian - what I would say... Just a few days before he asked me that, on his 49th birthday, I had wondered that same thing myself.  I decided I would give that question some thought and entertain that answer here as I did about three years ago.  

Brian,

First and foremost I would absolutely want to make sure that you knew that I love you with all my heart.  I would want to make sure you know that I didn't say I loved you, but that I love you --present tense- and always will.  Death has no impact on my love.  That would  be the first and most important thing I'd want to tell you.  But I would also want to tell you that I have never entertained the belief not for a single moment that this happened as they said it did.  I knew you 41 years before that day and I knew who you were in your heart.  I knew you were a sweet, kind, mindful conscientious child.  I knew you were a good and loyal brother to your siblings, and I remember how you could never hardly even fight back in a scuffle with your older brother because you were afraid of really hurting him.  I knew that you were a good and loyal husband to Kristen and when she left you pregnant with another man's child - I watched you walk my floor all night till 5:00 am for weeks and weeks second guessing every unkind word you'd ever said that may have caused her to want to leave.  You hurt over her, cried over her, loved her and you just wanted her to come home.  You immediately forgave her and you held no animosity toward her - you just wanted her back.  I remember me being mad enough to want to strangle her and still you defended her.  When I begged you to get a lawyer and fight for the kids - you angrily refused, saying you could never take your children from their mother, and you would never do that to your wife.  "She is my wife!"  You yelled.  You were hurt.  You were devastated.  But you never really even acted angry at her.  All you wanted was her to get past this and come home.  

You were angry at the other man and even got into a fight with him when you were totally blind-sided to find out that they were actually married before you were even aware the divorce was final.  All the while you had thought she'd eventually come back.  You lost your home, your wife, your children and the life you had known in less than 24 hours.  

You later grew to literally hate her as much as I ever knew you to hate but you also knew you had to keep peace or have your children kept from you.  So, you stuffed it down and made nice.  You were kind and accommodating to them both as they totally ran your life and extorted money from you to support their drug habit for the next 15 years. Then when Ashley came to live with you, most men would have put a quick stop to that child support but not you, you continued to pay her because you said she only wanted the money, and you wanted the child and you knew if you continued to pay her, she would leave Ashley alone and let her stay with you and if you stopped the money, she would fight to get her back and of course, you were right.  

You put up with untold misery out of them both for the next 15 years --for your kids. So no, it never crossed my mind that you could have done this.  Your kids were your life - all three of them.  Again, I knew who you were in your heart.

Though you had a quick, hot temper, you were always on the side of right.  You were conscientious, you had moral integrity and always looked out for the underdog.  You were soft-hearted to a fault and could never, never hold a grudge. That is who you were.

I'd just want to tell you how proud you'd be of your kids today.  And I'd tell you what a good little mother Ashley is and how she's going back to school and wants to take college courses for a degree in early childhood education, she cooks like a pro and has a home of her own, two beautiful little boys and a great husband that she says reminds her of you.  She is in church regularly, does regular bible studies and goes to cub scout camp-outs with her son.  I'd love to tell you about how much she misses you and how much she now looks back and appreciates all of the things you ever did for her and she tells me all the time how much she realizes now what she was too young to see and appreciate then.  She tells me how she wishes her husband could have known you because she is so proud of the way you raised her, the things you taught her and the stable, loving home you gave her.  She says you were the most positive influence in her life and the only stability she ever really had.  And she would give anything if you could see her now and know that all you tried to teach her was not in vain.  

I'd want to tell you that Alex has a new baby girl and he is doing very good now too.  Took him a little while but whenever it happens, it's right on time.  He has his own place and is a stepdad to three little girls.  He seems happy and though he doesn't talk to me as much about his feelings.  (He's a guy) He wants to make you proud and I can see your influence in him as well.  He has a good heart and he misses you and I know now that he has a baby of his own he, like Ashley will think of all that you were to him.  He will realize the sacrifices you made and all that you tried to do for them.  He will see now, what he couldn't see as a teenager and will miss you all the more.

I would also have to tell you that it has occurred to me, that your kids have straightened up and turned their lives around, I truly believe not "in spite" of losing you but perhaps "because" of it.  You were always too soft and let them get by with far too much.  They walked all over you and you rescued them and never made them stand accountable for their actions.  I truly do not believe that they would be where they are today had you still been here to rescue them.  Sorry, but I honestly believe that is true.  Hopefully, that is some good that has come out of all of this horrible bad.

My heart hurts for you still -every single day.  Not one day so far has gone by that you were not the first thing on my mind in the morning and the last thing on my mind every night.  It has been seven years now and though I'm settled with the idea that you are gone, I have good days and I can laugh again, the grief and pain are just as alive today as they were seven years ago.  I am glad that I did not know that would be the case seven years ago.  I would not have made it.  And if I am honest, some days I still wonder if I will.  I used to pray I'd get through just one more day and pray I'd get through this grief and now I realize that this grief albeit, a tamer version of it, will be with me forever, just as the love I have for you will and that's okay.  Grief is the price you pay for love.  In fact, I think I could almost define it now as "love".  At first it feels awful and rips a huge, ragged, bleeding hole in your heart and you just want it to go away because you relate it to the worst pain you can imagine but later it slowly evolves into your way of loving the someone you lost.  So now it feels as if I were to lose the grief, it would be wrong like I'd be giving up the love I have and so I'll keep the grief.

I am glad to know that you are home.  You came to me in a dream about four months after you all died and told me you were "Going Home!"  And you had the biggest smile on your face.  You were young and light and looked happier than I'd ever seen you look.  And I believe with all my heart that you are home and that you are smiling that huge smile everyday now with no more pain, no more earthly torment, no more disappointments, hardships or heartache.  You are where we all long to be and I for one, am so envious.  I want desperately to be with you. And that desire gets stronger every day.  I too, want to be home and as much as I love and miss you every single day - I truly would not call you back to the mess of this world even if I could.  I would love to go to you, but I would not want you to see and experience what is going on in our world today.  You could not stand it. 

I always thought that the first thing I'd ever say if I could talk to you would be to ask you what on earth happened - but funny when I saw you in that dream, for the first time in months - that really did not even cross my mind.  It did not seem to matter.  "Going Home" was all that mattered.  It was as if that just said all that needed to be said.  I was at peace and satisfied as if that answered all of the questions that had tormented me day and night for months.

I look so forward to the day when I will be with you again.  I miss you all every day and I love you.  

Mom

Small Snippets

I dreamed about the baby last night--something I always wish I could do.  Then when I do I'm sad and weepy for days afterwards. But I also remember how sweet and precious it was to get to be with him for even that little while.  And still it's worth it to me. 

It wasn't much of a dream really only spanned probably less than two minutes time but enough to bring to life those overwhelming feelings of deep, deep love like I felt in the dream I had before he was even conceived.  He was younger in the dream maybe 18 months old and was standing in a baby bed.  Music was playing and he was "singing" along loudly.  No words.  But like he really used to do - just baby jibber-jabber but in perfect tune and with the correct inflections.  He was amazing in that.  He loved sounds, voice pitches, conversation inflections and music of all types and though he didn't hardly even talk at almost three he was never shy and always very vocal. 

In the dream he was singing along with the music and then he quit and I was trying to encourage him to keep singing because it was so sweet and I was pantomiming the words to to him to try and get him to start singing again and he watched me a minute and instead of singing with the music like he had been doing he laughed and started pantomiming back at me.  It was so funny and so just exactly like something he would do.  And that was all that I remember of the dream.  I've been so afraid of forgetting --not him, but the little details of who he was.  It felt good to know that I had not forgotten his essence, his quirky little personality traits that were so uniquely him.  And good to realize that my heart remembered that deep, deep love I felt for him.  It was so good to see him and be with him even for that little while and feel that love even if I will pay for it for days with the overwhelming sadness that will provoke. 

It has made today very hard but still it was such a gift.  I don't dream of any of them often - not often enough but even less of him and I hate that but I guess in God's infinite wisdom, He knows it would keep me deep in the darkness, living in the past with less motivation to move forward. 

 I only had him for two years and eight months.  It is so hard to believe that a child could carve such a deep rut in my heart after such a short time so that even after five years I look at his pictures and still cry.  I find it hard to believe that after only Two and a half years with him that the thoughts of him still dominate so much of my every day or that the pain of losing him could still be this raw.

Fifty eight years I had lived without ever knowing him and I've now been without him five more; twice as long as I had him.  Two and a half years short years is such a small percentage of 66 years and logically I don't even see how 2 and 1/2 years could impact my life in such a way.

I love and miss you my little man.  Always. Always.
  

Lost

Fifty nine months and 6 days ago life as I knew it ceased to be.

At sixty-one I did not feel I had any time to lose.  At that point the average life expectancy for a woman was seventy-eight years old.  Since I was still working and not able to retire until 65 four years of that would be spent commuting in ridiculous traffic for threes hours a day and working on my job nine.  So from 65 to 78 I had maybe 7 good years and that is best case scenario.  At that point in your life, you really have no time to waste.  And here I sit here wondering how many days have gone by that I have no recollection of?  How many hours have I now spent sitting and staring into space; doing nothing and watching the hours of my life drift by?  Five years I have been existing like someone already dead that just hasn't fallen over yet.

These were the years we had worked and waited for.  We were going to travel and finally after 40 years of working and raising a family, get to enjoy a little of our lives before they were gone.  And here I sit day after day without the energy, stamina or desire to "do" anything.  I am wasting what time I've got left - living in a state of limbo - not dead - not living.  Just waiting.  I realize I'm doing this and I hate it but I cannot seem to find what it takes to pull out of this.  I seem to have lost my zest for life.  I've always been a goal-oriented person.  I make lists. I set five year goals, one year goals, monthly and daily goals. But now I have no goals.  Waking up that is my big goal.  What do you do when you have no direction? What do you live for if you have no dreams, no goals, no desires and no hope.

We do enjoy days together from time to time.  We talk a lot.  Unfortunately, "this" is mostly what we talk about.  We laugh and joke and I am certainly thankful for that.  But life isn't the same --not just in my family but in my head, in my spirit and in my heart.

I feel I am drifting aimlessly.  Sailing without navigation, without so much as a map and worse still without a destination.

I want to live life again.  I do.  I just can't seem to find my way out of this.  Writing used to be my life and now I try to write and I get lost and ramble.

How do you find your way back? Can you find your way back?  If so, pray tell how?

This is the result of being a survivor?

About as I always imagined.

Survivors - I always wondered at those people that build bomb shelters and stockpiled weapons, food and supplies - what would they have to live for in a world decimated by a nuclear bomb?  Why on earth would they want to survive?  Me --I've always said I hoped I'd go out with the first blast.

Now I really know how true that is.

Another Wave...

I have told you of several really weird and unexplainable things that happened early on like the incident with the pendulum on the clock, Siri asking if I wanted to ask her: "Where is Brian?" etc. All of that happened early on and there has been nothing odd or unexplainable since.

However, until a couple of months ago when another weird thing happened.  My phone battery had depleted while I was in the car without my charger and the phone went completely dead.  I had to wait till I got home to plug it in and let it charge a while before it would even boot up.  When it finally did and I picked it up to use it there was an email on the screen as if it had just come in.  I opened the email and it was from --Brian; from five years ago --on his birthday!  It said:

"He's saying: "Here comes another one." He's talking about a wave."

Well this didn't make sense out of context so I had to go back through five years and thousands of emails to find and read the email string that lead up to this to see that he is referring to a video he sent me of Paxton at the beach.  I'd sent him one saying that I couldn't understand what the baby was saying in the video and this email was his answer to that.  But it was just those words:

"He's saying: "Here comes another one." He's talking about a wave."

Well I have referred as have many others to grief coming in waves and I have also referred to this being like a shipwreck with me being overcome by the waves so this was unnerving to say the least.  Here comes another one?  Oh God, I hope and pray not --but let me tell you, it totally rattled me.  I tried to blow it off and try and get on with my day but the weirdness of the fact that out of literally thousands of emails that sit on my email account - an email from five years ago, from my son that died five months after that, on what turned out to be his very last birthday shows up on my phone screen as if it were brand new and unread - was strange enough but "this" being the actual message of that email?  Beyond weird.

Well I finally settled down about it and chalked it up to a freaky weird coincidence when two days later it happened again.  Same deal.  Email shows up on my phone screen like a brand new email.  I open it.  It is from Brian.  Same exact email now a second time.  The following week I get an error message on my screen that said:  "your text could not go through."  Well...I had not sent a text.  I opened the error message and it lead me to the actual text it was referring to... and it was the last text I ever sent to Kara; asking "Are you okay?"  She was not.  I had been texting both of them alternately all morning with no answer and that was my last text to her before I sent someone to the house to check on them.

But again "this" a few months shy of five years ago! And believe it or not - that too, actually happened a second time a week later.  And this past Monday - I got the email from Brian now a third time!  This has never happened with any other emails as long as I have had a smartphone. Never.  And now out of thousands of archived emails - this one email has come up on my screen as if it had just been received - three times! And I have also never had an error message come up like that and did not in fact even get that error message the day or days shortly after I sent it.  But I get it twice almost five years later and within days of the emails from Brian???

That is crazy and I really do not know what to make of it.

The Train

I had a revelation last night.  A revelation about a dream that I dreamed over 50 years ago.  One might wonder how you could or would still think about or recall a dream you had 50 years ago.  But that was one I will never forget.  It was a scary, terrifying recurring dream that I had for months.  Some might say it felt like a premonition.  I did.  So the dream tormented me for years wondering what the dream was trying to warn me of.  Months and months I was afraid of falling asleep afraid I'd have the dream again.  It was clear that it had an evil connotation to it.  Problem was I did not know of what.

I dreamed I was way off somewhere walking down an old dirt road that ran alongside a railroad track.  Suddenly the road disappeared and there was only track and the track at this point started over a long train trestle that crossed over a wide rocky river below.  I surveyed the bridge and knew that I needed to be on the other side.  No train in sight I set out across the trestle ever conscious of the raging white water below.  About the time that I had reached the halfway point of the trestle I heard it.  The low long whistle of a train.  I look behind me and quickly calculate that either way will take me longer to reach than the time it will take the train to reach me.  I look up and see the single huge round engine light off in the distance flashing between the trees as it barrels toward me at an alarming speed.

I look down at my only other option.  It is not a good one.  Big wide river, swift water rushing loudly over an endless sea of huge rocks.

I look up the train is closing in fast.  I know running back is useless it will over take me long before I reach the end of the trestle.  Down - white water, rock and certain death awaits.  These are my choices.  I can feel my hands are clammy.  My breath coming now in shallow spurts.  I am shaking, panting, terrified and I do not know what to choose and truthfully it doesn't matter.  Both choices result in the same outcome but I stand there frozen and I can't choose.  I realize that "not choosing" is choosing but I can't move.  I hear the steel of the train's wheels strain and squeal with a loud screeching noise as the engine reaches the trestle.  I am running.

Suddenly I'm awake.

Thank God.  Sweating.  Heart racing.  Shaking uncontrollably.  It was just a dream.

But it was not just a dream.  It was such a terrifying dream that I did not want to go back to sleep for fear of being taken back there again.

I was disturbed over the dream for days and days.  And just as I began to let go of it and feel I could rest again.  I had the dream again.  Exactly like before.  Again I woke up just in time.  Again I was seriously disturbed for days.  Weeks.  And this continued on for months.

Last night for the first time I realized that I now know the choice I made.

Four years ago I had that choice before me in reality.  I wanted to choose to jump into the rolling waters and not face the blunt force of the train but I stood frozen and so the full force of the 100-car freight train plowed through my life...