Dear Brian

June 19, 2017

Dear Brian,

I just got through reading your Journal to Paxton yet again.  It breaks my heart just as much two years and ten months later as it did that first week when we found it.  Still what a Divine Gift that was.

As I read back over it the words you leave to Paxton are like knives to my heart as you say things like you are writing these things down so that Paxton can come back and read at any time the things that you had to share with him; the musings and life advice. With every line I read I hear a man that adores his wife and child; plans on the baby growing up someday and reading this and knowing how much he mattered to his parents.  I hear a man that sounds as if he plans to continue writing this for years to come.  Every line stabs at me as I read how much Kara wanted a baby, what a good mother she was, how happy you all were, how hard you worked on your house, how proud you were of it, how smart Paxton was and how you wanted to give him a general idea of what life was like when he was born, what he was like at each stage of his growth and a record of each of his little milestones.  You wanted to tell him how you met his mother, how much you loved his mother and how much the two of you loved and wanted him. 

As I read it in retrospect I want to scream – “He will never read these words.  He will never know your love or your intention.  He will never need your advice.  He is two and a half – and he will never be three!”  I want to protest and stop time where you are on these pages and never let August 23^rd 2014 come.  Just to see the year 2014 written out makes me turn literally sick.  As I read the dates you mention in these pages my heart pays careful attention. It is November 2011 as you begin you are 38 years old – I pause and count up the time you have left on that date.  You go back in time now to the date you and Kara met – February 6, 2009 my heart lightens as I remember how happy you were at finding her and I remember exactly when you broke the news to me and your dad that you had asked her to marry you only days later.  I remember distinctly looking straight at her and asking “Are you crazy?”  You were not amused.  But you looked at me and said: “I know what you’re thinking and yes, she knows I’m in debt and that Alex has been in trouble and I know how crazy this sounds Mom, but I let her get away one time and I am just not going to make that mistake again.”  You mention your wedding date July 11, 2009 and my mind flits back to the events of that day.  I typed up your vows that you were to read to each other.  Hers were silly and falling right in line with the goof- ball you had portrayed to her.  Yours would melt my heart.  I thought that day – how yours and hers were going to be so vastly different and how yours would surprise her – but they would not surprise me.  I knew how serious you really were about this and what this marriage meant to you.  And while it was true that you certainly had a silly side and were constantly joking and cutting up – I knew what she did not, that most of the time it was a smoke screen to hide years of hurt and heartache not only from those you were with but from yourself.  It was a light-hearted attempt to detract from the tragic life of hurt that had plagued you for years. Intended to make you laugh and forget.

January 26, 2013 – I read and quickly calculate that you have one year and seven months to live.  You mention to Paxton that he was born on December 10, 2011 – I go back…to the hospital the night of his birth, Kara is in labor, you are a basket case.  You cover it trying to fidget with the medical items in the room like a 12-year old boy and you pace.  They take her down for an emergency C-section and I quickly assess the panic that crosses your face for just a split second before you hug Kara and tell her everything will be okay. 

You tell Paxton then that you moved into your new house in February of 2012 and I remember the pride and excitement you both had at having a home that you made your own with the blood, sweat and tears of weeks of intense hard work as you both side by side patched a thousand holes, hung doors, replaced plumbing fixtures, painted over bright red enamel paint that spanned the 20-foot cathedral ceiling, I remembered feeling so proud of both of you but maybe especially Kara – at her age – digging in and working night and day beside you to lay custom tile in the kitchen, put in new countertops, hang and stain new cabinets.  She was learning as she went and never complained but actually seemed to enjoy it and she actually saw the beauty in the two of you doing this together.  I was amazed.

Your next entry is December 2, 2013 – My breath catches and my heart skips a beat as you inch closer and closer to the date. You mention Paxton is about to turn two.  It is 8 days from his birthday – his last birthday.  You say it is creeping up on Christmas –the last Christmas; the last Christmas you will ever see; the last Christmas I will ever enjoy.  December 2013 was our last Christmas with our complete family; my last Christmas with the baby; Kara’s last Christmas and the last Christmas her family will ever enjoy.  Then I remember two events from that Christmas – the baby yelling out “NANA, I MISSED YOU!” when I never heard him put two words together.  And then I remember what I said when everyone left that day.  As the last one got in their car to go, I turned to your dad and I said, “I will never do this again.”  I had my feelings really hurt because I had worked for weeks to decorate and plan, cook, shop and wrap for Christmas and everyone stayed about 45 minutes and ran out the door saying you all had plans to go to a movie – I was devastated - movies play 364 other days out of the year.  Christmas comes once a year.  Jamie and Marie had driven over 400 miles and spent 45 minutes with us.  And after weeks and weeks of planning and days of working - I was alone on Christmas day hurt and angry.  And I said, “I know you think I don’t mean this – but I’m serious I will never do this again.”  And prophetically, I never will.

June 22, 2014 – your last entry.   I realize I am sitting here “accidently” rereading this and writing “this” exactly three days shy of three years since that last entry.  Countdown.  Two months and one day.  You tell Paxton some of the funny stuff he does and what he is like at this age, you mention things you do together and talk about his new puppy.  Then you cut to the chase – you talk to him about God, you tell him again how great his mother is, you relay life lessons about women, marriage and patience.  You tell how much he means to you, and you talk sweetly of your special time with him and how much you value that time.  I realize as I read from an almost three-year perspective that though you thought you were writing this for him – you were in fact under God’s instruction – writing this for all of us. 

I am both sad and extremely thankful.

Birthday and other gifts to hold onto...

Today is my baby boy’s third birthday… a difficult day to say the least. 

The last video that I took of him while I was babysitting him at his house was right before my birthday and he was singing “Haddy Dirday to you”.  I had never even heard him say Happy Birthday much less sing it and in tune.   But he did and then blew out pretend candles and applauded himself by yelling Yay! at the end.  What a birthday gift.

It was like the rare gift of hearing him run to me last Christmas yelling “I missed you!”  Everyone in the room stopped in their tracks.  He had hardly said an intelligible word let alone a sentence and obviously knew the meaning of what he said and yet he had just turned two.  "Haddy Dirday" came eight months later.  Clearly, he did not talk at two.  But it was a gift to me as it was to be our last Christmas with him. 

For Brian’s 40^th birthday he gave me a gift.  He wrote me a beautiful letter telling me all of things I had done right and how much he appreciated all I had done raising him; a rare gift to any mother.  I cried for days.  It took him 40 years to write it – but it came just in time and now I have it to cling to forever. 

And like Brian writing that Journal to Paxton - he had never mentioned that he was doing that and we were all shocked but in view of the circumstances of how this was left for him to bear the blame - what a great gift that was for us to find.  My oldest son was upset that we wanted it read at the Memorial Service - he said that it was personal and written for Paxton and we had no right to share it publicly.  I told him "on the contrary son, that journal was written for us; all of us that knew him and loved him."

For Donald’s birthday this past year Brian did something he had always wanted to do.  He bought tickets and took Donald to the Nascar race at Talladega.  He’d never done anything like that before.  They had a great day and shared a common bond and made precious memories that are priceless now.

Last fall as a surprise for Donald – Brian and his oldest son came while we were gone and raked up all the leaves and sweet gum balls in our yard.  We have a large yard and believe me that was no small task. It was a good six hours work with two people working at it - and they did that unknown to us.  We came in late and did not see it until we woke up the next morning.  It was like Santa Clause had come to a 60 year old man! 

And for Kara’s last birthday we gave her the Michael Kors purse she had been saving for.  She was so surprised and delighted and squealed that it was the best thing anyone could have gotten her.  Comet could not scrub the smile from her face all day long.  It was the most I have ever enjoyed giving someone a gift.  We actually enjoyed it far more than she did! 

Our last Thanksgiving was at their house – the first time ever anyone had fixed Thanksgiving dinner for our family besides me and it was her first big holiday.  She was so proud and enjoyed it so much.  I wouldn't take anything now for that memory.

I think of so many strange things that happened over the past year or so.  Things that I look back on now and know were a gift.  Things we can hold and treasure forever. 

Haddy dirday little man – I will forever treasure the gift of your love and the short time we had with you changed my life.  I love you always.  Nana

Things I wish I could say...

To the Sheriff’s Department --

If these were your children my guess is that you’d have done a more thorough job of investigating all of the possibilities and you would not have jumped to this conclusion in the first fifteen minutes.

I’m betting you would have thought a motive was important if either of the three of them had been your child.

This was not an exercise in curiosity.  We really needed to know what happened to our children.  That is not an unreasonable request.

Making up stories did not give me closure.  It negated everything that you had ever told me. I believe what you said about the investigation even less than I already did.

To Kara’s Mom –

We have more in common than you might think.

Our children loved each other and we shared a grandchild.  We share the most profound grief a mother can ever know.

We are family.  I care about what happens to you and what you think and how you feel.  I wish desperately that we could sit down and just talk.

I loved your daughter and more importantly so did Brian – with all his heart.

He knew Kara was worried about you and he had just told her to call you and tell you to pack your things and just come live with them – He told her you would always have a home with them as long as you wanted.

To Kara –

You were a great wife and a great little mom.  I was so proud of you and you were a perfect addition to our family and we all loved you so much.

I appreciate the time that you let me have with your baby.  You were never selfish with him and I was so blessed to have you.  It was because of you that I had the joy of him.  You will never know what the videos you made for me mean to me.  They are my lifeline; especially the last one where you are coaxing Paxton to say: “Hey Nana, I love you.”  I watch it over and over.  It is priceless.  Thank you so much for thinking of me and giving me that to hold onto.

You made Brian happy.  For that I will always be eternally grateful.

He wanted you to have the business you had always wanted because he said that you had always supported his dreams and he wanted to help you realize yours.  He planned to sell off some of his tools so that he could build you a nail/make up salon downstairs so that you could see your dream of a business of your own where you could use your talents and still never have to leave Paxton.

To Brian –

I wish I had hugged you goodbye the last time I saw you but I didn’t and I will always regret that.  Hugging always made you a little uncomfortable and I opted not to for your sake – I wish I had followed my heart.

I love you and miss you so much it hurts.  You can never know what the letter you sent me last year meant to me and you can never know what finding your journal to Paxton has meant to all of us.

No matter what they say, I know and have always known that you did not do this. I knew you and I knew who you were in your heart.

Oh my God, what on earth happened?

To Paxton –

You were the light of my life and truly a gift from God.  I don’t know how I am going to go on without you.

I wish I could just hold you one more time but then I know that would not be enough either.

I will remember always the gift you gave me last Christmas when you spoke the first complete sentence I’d ever heard you say when you saw me come in and yelled across the room at the top of your lungs: “Nana, I missed you!”  It melted my heart and made me cry right on the spot.  They were the sweetest words I’d ever heard.  I miss you too baby boy – so much until it physically hurts.

I love you so much and I think about you every single day and truly, do not know how I will live without you.

Brian's journal to Paxton

It seems as if they just take turns at me and that considering that there is so much to try and absorb - I don't feel I will ever get to a better place.  Everything is multiplied by three.


Shortly after the Sheriff's Department released the house to us - my daughter retrieved their phones and their computer.  Hoping to try and find some evidence that what they were claiming could somehow make sense to us.  What she found certainly did not do that.


It was a Journal that Brian had been writing to Paxton since before he was born. His last entry was from June.  None of us knew anything about this little journal but what a gift!


Today's post is going to be an excerpt from that Journal.
Excerpt from Journal written to Paxton Miller by Brian K. Miller.

Ok, big gap here…today is Dec. 2, 2013. We are creeping up on Christmas time and even closer to your 2^nd birthday. Time flies if you’re just reading through this. You, my boy, are a whole lotta fun at 2 years old. You are extremely hyper active…but that’s just fine with us. You can literally run for hours without tiring. You love to be outside as much as you can be. It’s sad that it’s winter right now, because you really get annoyed at being cooped up in the house all day.

You have a little girlfriend that lives next door named Alisa. She is 6 years old, but comes over every day its nice outside and asks to play with you.  And let me tell you, you are quite taken with her. We have pictures of you hugging on her. I believe she is the highlight of your day. And she’s a really cute blonde kid. And she is very good with you.
Um…let’s see, you have been talking a lot lately. You are starting to put sentences together. Like-“oh no, what do I do?” You know your alphabet. You can name all the letters even if they are in the wrong order. You can count to 12. You know your colors very well and like to point them out going down the road. We hear what color everything is in the car. You surprisingly know a lot of shapes. You can recognize shapes that you can’t quite pronounce yet, like octagon and pentagon.

You are getting your room redone in the Cars movie theme…shhh, you’re not supposed to know this yet. You love that movie and Shrek.  You also watch “Despicable Me”, and a lot of “Veggie-Tales”. Your mom keeps trying to break your “binky” habit, but I sneak out and buy you a few more now and then. Again, shhh.  You love to have pretend conversations on the phone and you’re very convincing sometimes that there just might be someone on the other end of the line. You love to sing. We can’t quite make out what you are singing, but you seem to know. You love music, and are very outgoing. You speak to anyone you see.

I try to take you outside at night for a walk to get you to sleep as much as possible. That’s your favorite time with me. I just got you to sleep that way tonight. You are a bed jumper. Every time you are in our room, you crawl onto the bed and proceed to try and touch the ceiling with your head. You have tumbled off a few times, but no big damage. We put an air mattress out in the middle of the living room floor for you to play on sometimes. You will take a running start across it and then spring onto the couch flipping onto your head, upside down with your feet up in the air against the back of the couch giggling.

You insist on throwing your diapers away yourself. And you are getting pretty good at going up and down stairs, while holding my hand because I insist. You love your hot wheels cars, and you have so far, about 80 of them. You like to go through your books in your room and read them. You like to let the dog (Minnie) lick your lips as a kiss, then say “oh how sweet”. It cracks me up. And you are very good to her, with the exception of the few times you try and pick her up by her back legs and swing her around the room.  

And you are very close to me and your mom. When it’s time for bed you go lay down pretty good, but insist that I lay down with you, at least for a few minutes. I can’t tell you how much I love that time. I can put all of my daily worries away for that few minutes, and just enjoy you lying right up next to me, sometimes pulling my arm around you as you fall asleep. Definitely the best part of my day. 

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