You’ve been gone two weeks now. And, it really, really still does not seem real.
But, maybe it is starting to sink in a bit. Yesterday, exactly 2 weeks since the day you left us, I was worthless. I just wanted to sleep all day. I barely moved off of the couch. Last night, I had the most fitful dreams and sleep as I have had since you passed away. Is my mind finally beginning to believe that we will not see you again until we, too, pass away and join you in Heaven?
I’m so glad that you always said, “I love you.” And, that we said it back.
I have tried to think of words that were left unsaid … and because you were such a good and prolific communicator, I don’t think there were any. At least among those of us who love you most.
Should that be “loved” rather than “love”? I started to change it or at least put it like this, “love(d)” … but then I decided love is right. Just because you aren’t physically on this earth with us any longer, it doesn’t mean we don’t still love you, because we surely do. And always will.
I am so glad that you were a good communicator and made us better communicators. If you didn’t know we were proud of you and that we loved you very much, it is because you were not listening. The same thing goes for us. If we aren’t aware of how much you loved and appreciated us, we weren’t paying attention.
Frozen in Time
Like with your grandfather who died at age 49, just a few years older than your 43 years, you are frozen in time. Forevermore, you will age no more. The rest of us will get older and older and you’ll stay young (at least to those of us who think 43 is young).
I’m obviously just musing here with this post. Letting thoughts pour out of my brain and onto paper. They say it is good therapy. Maybe yes. Maybe no. But, for me, probably so. I write to get it out of me.
So, from what have you been spared by dying young? In your prime? What will you miss?
Well, of course, you will miss the time that would have been spent with Kim and with us. You won’t get to throw the ball or play tug with Ellie Mae any longer. You won’t be able to call or hug Mom and Scott or fellowship with your friends.
What You’ll Miss
But, there’s a lot of other stuff you will miss that actually gives my heart peace. Your ex-wife can no longer use you as her whipping boy. What a relief that is. She is (I initially wrote “was.” I changed it to present tense. She still IS evil. She just can’t use it against you) the cruelest person I believe I have ever met. You are now spared from her. And, for that, I am very, very happy.
When Dad and I were driving to the hospital, hoping you would make it, but feeling like you probably wouldn’t, there were two things I said to him. “If he doesn’t make it, he will be forever at peace and for that, I am very grateful.” And the second thing I said was, “Sara can’t torture him another minute.” Pretty sad that that was my second thought when thinking about losing you.
I’m really sad that she’ll probably come out ahead financially because you died. She doesn’t deserve that and neither do your offspring after the way you were treated by them. It frustrates me that someone so evil can benefit from you dying. One day I hope I can find it in my heart to forgive … but, even though I am usually good at forgiving, I don’t have it in me just yet to be at peace with that woman and her actions.
There is no telling what those children of yours are going to do before they reach adulthood. So far, they’ve pulled some very scary stunts, like taking guns out to threaten neighbors who they don’t like. With permissive schools and parents who don’t parent … there really is no telling what those children will do. l hope against all hope that they will not someday shoot up a school, but truly, it is my worst fear. They’ve been taught to hate and to manipulate and they’ve learned those lessons all too well.
Thank God, no matter what stunts they pull, you won’t have to see it. For that, I am very grateful.
Speaking of the Offspring
I do hope one day the kids will find peace. I know you and Kim attempted to take them to church where they could learn about Christ, but their mother made sure they scoffed at that.
I think one day, maybe not soon, but one day, those children will come to the realization that, in spite of your faults, you loved them as unconditionally as any person ever could or will. It was so unlike you to forgive and forgive and forgive and forgive, no matter how awful they were to you.
Right after you died, I wrote a piece, just to get it off of my chest, about how much your own actions toward your children reminded me of how God loves us. Your love for those kids was absolutely unconditional. Just like God’s love for His children. Sometimes I wished you could turn your back on them. It would have been so much easier emotionally on you.
I’m not as big a person as you. I hope for the best for those children while assuming the worst. If I never see them again, I’m just fine with that. In fact, it is my preference. They’ve been ruined by the person raising them. Sad, but true.
My loyalties were with you, When they treated you terribly, then I was mad at them. Your loyalties were with them. When I got irritated at them for doing you wrong, you got mad at me! Maybe that’s just how it is. We protect our children.
Who You Were
Aaron called you a Gentle Giant and I love that definition of you. You were as soft-hearted a person as there ever was. You loved deeply.
Your faith was strong. I have never personally known anyone who tried harder to live the life God wanted you to live. I saw you struggle so often, trying to understand what it was God wanted you to do. I just bet when you got to Heaven, you heard the words, “Well done, my son, well done.”
At the same time, PTSD and a strong (understatement) desire to be treated with the same respect as you showed others could cause some real anger issues. Unfortunately, the PTSD meant that you could go from 0 to 1000 in a split second. That’s a disease I would wish on no one. I have often said I would much rather have my stage IV lung cancer than PTSD.
You struggled with it so long and hard. You tried everything to control it and you mostly did. For that, you are to be commended.
You know, I have never asked God why He chose me to have lung cancer. I have asked Why He has let me live long past the norm with it. But, not why He chose me to have the disease.
By the same token, I have not and do not expect I will ever ask Him Why he took you away from us. My faith is strong enough to believe that He knows Why, His Plans are always perfect. As noted above, I already think I know some reasons “why” …
There is one thing that I have questioned God about many times, though. I have no answer and I don’t think I will ever understand until I die and can ask Him face to face. Hopefully, you now do know the answer. Why oh why did he allow Rodney to abuse you when you were a child? Why oh why did you not tell us right away?
We were trying to do the right thing and you ended up hurt so deeply that the pain never left, the anger never dissipated. If I am sorry about anything at all in my life, it is that we gave shelter and refuge to a child molester … even though we had no idea at all that he was or that he would ever, in a million years, hurt you.
So, you’re now at Peace. Perfect Peace. We’re not so much … those of us who love you and who are left behind. But, I console myself with your peace. As your mom, that’s so very important to me. Knowing that you are at peace gives me peace. And, I think that’s why I haven’t yet been inconsolable about your leaving us for Heaven two weeks ago. (That and I’m not sure I have yet accepted that you are truly and irrevocably gone.)
I love you. I always have. I always will.