Thursday, December 24, 2015

A Letter to Danny ~ December 24, 2015

Merry Christmas Honey:

I'm sitting here watching the lights sparkle on the Christmas Tree, listening to my collection of Christmas music and missing you.  Four years have passed since you left, and four years isn't enough time to get over missing you.  I'm just remembering how patient you were with me when I insisted in putting up five Christmas Trees and even had lights on your old farm tractor.  "What a loon," you said yet proudly showed it off to family and neighbors.

Remember, our first Christmas Album was Johnny Mathis.  We listened to it over and over during the Christmas Season until I found Roger Whitaker.

I'm thinking of the few special moments honey.  Moments when everyone had left on Christmas Eve; when the food had been devoured, when wrapping paper and ribbons were what was left of the hours upon hours of shopping, hiding, wrapping and displaying, when you had had one more piece of your mince meat pie, when the night was dark and quiet and it was just the two of us.  There might have been a total of two hours then, two hours between Christmas Eve and Christmas morning when it would just be you and me sitting on the love seat, my leaning against you and you with your arm around my shoulders, watching the fire crackle in the fireplace.  "That's craziness," you would say and I would reply "Yep," and we would go off to bed to wait until morning when we would open our own packages from each other.  As I sit here right now, how I miss those two hour increments.  What I wouldn't give for just two more.

I hope if I can instill anything in our children and grandchildren, it will be not to take a minute, an hour, a day, a smile, a laugh for granted.  And for them not to count the importance of a day by it being a happy one.  Even the worrisome, sad, the hurtful, the mad, are important.  The worrisome, sad, the hurtful, the mad are those days by which they will grow.  It will be the happy ones where they will gain strength to grow again by whatever means.

Johnny Mathis is singing "Let it Snow", there's no mince meat pie since it was only you who liked it. There is food to be prepared and presents to wrap for tonight, and when it is all done, I will sit and miss you; our two hours.

I love you honey.  I miss you.  I hope when I start to drift off to sleep tonight, in the corner of my mind I will hear you whisper. "What a loon."

Longer than the 12th of Never.


Friday, October 30, 2015

Fallen Angel

He chose to walk into the darkness
As the storm blew in his face.
The road he chose to travel
Lead him to a darker place.

He forgot who he once was.
Along the way he was misplaced.
The stranger in the mirror
Owned a stranger's face.

His heart was beat, abandoned
When the demons took control,
But the heavens heard his cries
As he quarreled with his soul.

And it's someplace in the distance
I now see him smile and hear him sing.
I know my son is happy.
My fallen Angel has his wings.

Sunday, October 11, 2015

Daren's Letter- October 11, 2015

Hello Sweetheart:

I can't believe it's 2015.  When you died, I thought life would end or at least stand still.  I couldn't possibly see how it could go on without you in it.  But guess what honey?  It does and it has dragged me along with it.

You know sweetheart, your addiction was such a demon in both of our lives.  I know how much you struggled and you knew how much I did.  Unfortunately, it was stronger than the both of us put together.  That is what addiction is.  It is a strong, unrelenting force that doesn't care about the addict or about those who love him.  Yes, my darling boy.  You were an addict but...I wonder.

You have six siblings and between you all, there are twenty-four children.  Those thirty people watched what you went through.  They were there on the sidelines watching, wondering, hurting, being frustrated.  They saw you fight and they saw you lose.  But as I laid in my bed thinking about you again last night, I realized something once again.  You were a teacher.  There on that stage of addiction, you were teaching those other thirty people about it.  You were teaching them that it could deprive you of all you hold dearest; your family, your true friends, your dreams, your hopes, your future and eventually, your life.  They stood there watching and your lessons seeped into them.  And because you taught; because they learned, they will not go down that road.  You were their teacher, and you were their savior.  Thank you darling.

I don't know about this life.  That is the truth.  Everyone has their beliefs, but no one really knows what this life is about.  As I ponder, I can't help but feel that whatever road we are on in this life, is one we chose to travel on before we came.  I think that road has exits, but I think even when those exits are taken, somehow, someway we manage to get back on the road we were meant to be on, to learn those lessons we were meant to learn.  And with that belief, I think of you.  Was the road you traveled the one you chose in the pre-existence to travel on?  Was it not happenstance?  Was that hard and rocky and muddy road you walked one you chose to walk so you could be a teacher?  Are the homeless, the broken, the drunken, the lost actually teachers also.  Should we all take a step back and look not with our eyes, but with our souls and see what the lesson is we should be learning from them. For there surely is one.  Is that why we should not be judgmental, because if we are, it makes us unable to see what lies beneath those teachers.  It makes us unable to learn.

Your addiction was not the total of the man you were my darling boy.  You were amazing.  You were kind, caring, helpful, giving, loving and one of the funniest people I have ever known.  Your sense of humor made many of my days much brighter.  No my son.  Your addiciton was the part of you that would help guide your own sons and the children of your siblings away from that that tortured you.

As I sit here, not quite two years since you left me, I am overwhelmed with love and gratitude.  I thank my God that you were mine. I thank my God that I got the whole package that was my son.

I love you Sweetheart and miss you every day.


Wednesday, September 9, 2015

Happy Birthday Robert

It amazes me how people, complete strangers, come into your life, snuggle in and claim a place.  So it was with you. I didn't know back in the 80's there was tall, skinny, lanky redheaded guy waiting on the horizon of my life waiting for the time to come in, and claim his place in my own life and in my heart.  But there you waited and when the time was right, you met my daughter, and loved her and married her, probably not knowing how true it is that you weren't just getting her, you were getting her whole family, good and bad.

Back then, you lived in your little apartment you shared, drove your little blue car, and wore those god-awful little shorts some men wore back in the 80's, with white crew socks pulled up your calf.  I'm sorry sweetheart, but you did not make a fashion statement.  You and Shannon started going together and you both shared in each other's lives.  I remember her going to work with you as you cleaned floors at a supermarket at night and how you worked together at the Chevron Station on center street.  You quickly became a part of the Whiting's crazy family get-togethers and from that point on would always participate.  I remember one Christmas Eve in Provo, as I was out getting things ready for our annual Christmas Eve party, I came home to find you had cleaned my house for me; scrubbed the kitchen floor and everything.  That was the BEST Christmas gift in the world.

I'm recalling little things today, like sitting in the Fox theater with you and Shannon watching Superman.  Why have I bookmarked that little point in my life?

When you came into our family, you inherited Whiting traits.  It was then you found out how much you loved to fish, camp and hunt.  You would spend a lot of time with us in the mountains and would grow to love these things like we did.  I remember being with you and Danny as we road-hunted up Schofield Canyon.

You stepped into our family and stepped up to the plate,  not only in the good times, but also when things were pretty tough.  You stood out on our driveway with Mark, both of you holding baseball bats ready to take on some pretty tough guys who were out to get Daren.   You and Shannon were a wonderful support for me when Danny suffered his "great depression".  I always knew if I needed you, you would be there.  There were many times I called.  There were many times you came.

Along with your great traits there were also some not so great.  You were the most accident prone person I had ever seen in my life.  It was as if you saw an opportunity for an accident and ran over and inserted yourself in it.  One day as I watched out my kitchen window, I saw you get on your horse.  Instantly, I knew an accident was about to happen.  Sure enough, your horse reared up, you fell off the back and it fell on top of you.  It was amazing you walked away with only a broken wrist. Then there was the time you put your finger in the cement mixer.  Not one of your better choices.  I made certain to keep our Worker's Compensation Insurance in place.  I knew if I happened to let it lapse, you would get hurt.

You went to work for us when Danny started installing cable television lines in Park City.  Part of the job included making certain when we left a job site, it was in as good or better condition as it was before we went on the property.  Danny could count on you to see that done.  You were a perfectionist in so many ways.  Later, you worked for us in installing natural gas pipe lines.  You were always a dependable worker.  When we would have our company parties up the canyons, you were always there helping out.

I was a lucky mother-in-law.  I got to be in the delivery room with you when Shannon delivered your three little girls via Cesarean.  Oh how funny it was when she gave birth to Ashley.  At first you were there gently rubbing her forehead.  As the procedure proceeded, your gentle rubbing became a pat. Pretty soon Shannon called out "Mom-m-m-m".  I looked down to see you pounding on her head.  I reached over and took hold your nervous hand.  Shannon made certain I was there with you when Katie and Kacee were born. How you loved your three beautiful little girls.  There was never a question of that.  They were your pride and joy.

The road of life is strange.  You think you all on the right one and that you have your convoy of people following behind when suddenly one takes an exit and you find the journey not the same anymore.  When two people start bringing out the worst in each other instead of the best, it is time to take an exit.  You and Shannon divorced.  I may not have liked your actions sweetheart, but I always loved you.

In "Life According to Susie", I don't believe God decides you've lived long enough and decides its time for you to die.  I believe before we came to this earth, we knew what we were coming for; that it was us, not God that decided what path we would take, what our purpose would be and ultimately the time we would exit this life.  I believe, the God I believe in is there loving me and supporting my decisions and hearing me cry out for help and helping me with conditions.  If for instance, my life's purpose was to learn compassion for the poor and so I decide to come to live life being poor; that is my decision.  I come into life with that purpose.  If however, down the road, I find that struggling paycheck to paycheck is too hard, or being without is too hard or various other "too hard" things and I cry out to God to help me by winning the lottery, God will not answer my prayer the way I want it because it will go against what my original purpose of life was for.  The God I believe in is always there to love me and help me as long as what I ask doesn't go against my life purpose.  I don't believe it is God that decides when we will die.  I believe we decide that before we are ever born.  I believe you decided when you would leave this earth.  I believe Danny decided when he would and that Daren decided when he would.  I don't believe that on 9/11 God spared me and my family when he didn't spare all the others that died that day. That would, it seems to me, be a cruel God.   My God isn't cruel.  I believe it wasn't our time to exit this life yet.

I don't believe that when my own dad chose to exit this life when I was nine years old, that he didn't love me enough to stay.  It was simply the time he had already decided upon as his exit point.  He had fulfilled whatever his life purpose was.  I believe Danny and Daren chose to leave when they did. They had fulfilled their life purpose and had decided upon that time as their exit point.   And I believe my dear one that you chose the day you left because you had fulfilled your life purpose.  I could get upset with you.  I could rail against you and ask why you were so selfish as to leave your beautiful girls.  Why you would leave them with the pain, guilt, hurt, that you left them with.  But the truth is.  I don't know.  I don't know what you had decided to learn when you came to this earth.  I don't know if you stayed longer, if it would have caused more harm than good in the overall scheme of things.  It would be silly for me to speculate that I know or understand more about you and your life than you do.  So my dear one, I accept your decision.  I accept you knew what was best for you and in the long run for your girls.  But your passing like with everyone's has left pain.  But it has only left pain because you were loved.  And you were only loved, because you loved.

Happy Birthday Robert.  I'm so glad you were born.  I'm so glad that when you painted your life, you included this old woman in it.  I'm so glad that the last words I said to you, were "I love you."  I bet there aren't many men who can say they had their mother-in-law; their ex mother-in-law at that, speak at their funeral.  Oh wait a minute.  You didn't get a choice in that.  Did you?  Too bad!  Bad planning on your part.

I hope wherever you are at today (and I believe it is somewhere pretty spectacular) you are sitting at a lake's edge or along a river bank with Danny and Daren, fishing pole in hand with a rib steak ready to go on the grill.

I love you dearly.

From your mom by choice.


Sunday, May 10, 2015


She looks into the face of her newborn baby.  She doesn't see the wrinkled skin, the nose somewhat flattened and perhaps the head a little misshapen from the journey into this world.  No.  She sees the most beautiful baby in the world.

Lost in a special part of her mind that is governed by her heart are the times morning sickness forced her to pay homage to a porcelain god, the protruding stomach, swollen feet, stretch marks and the walk of a duck.  They were just hurdles along the path leading to this precious gift she now holds in her arms.  Hurdles that would sleep until once again awakened to appear along another path to motherhood.

She will sing lullabies, and in the dark of night listen for the gentle sound of breathing and thank her god when she hears the steady rhythm.  She will laugh over a bowl of carrots on top of the head and a little face covered with birthday cake.  She will cry over a fevered brow and a skinned knee, being careful that this precious one she loves will be oblivious to her tears.

Her hand will reach out to aid the first step which will one day lead along a path that will end at the school door.  She will feel the small hand slip from hers as she relinquishes her care to that of another and as she turns, the tears will come again.

How she waited impatiently for the tiny sound of "ma ma" to come from the lips of this precious spirit placed in her charge...and then it came.

"Mama.  I need a drink of water."
"Mama.  There's a monster under my bed."
"Mama.  I'm hungry."
"Mama.  I don't know how I got gum in my hair."

She will participate in car pools, be a room mother, bake cookies, bandage knees and other skinned places, teach fingers do not belong in noses, and to be kind to friends.  She will explain that missing teeth do not make a child ugly regardless of the little boy down the street calling you a jack-o-lantern. She will teach A-B-C's and 1-2-3's and "Itsy Bitsy Spider." And when the long day has come to an end, she will kneel beside the bed and teach her child to pray.

She assures her young girl that no, she is not ugly, she is not too tall, too short, or too fat or too thin.  Yes.  She too had blemishes and yes, they eventually will go away.  She explains that clothes, the makeup, the house one lives in, or the car they drive is not as important as they seem right now.  That someday, the cheerleaders will also have babies that need diapers changed.

The sound of "ma-ma" rings in her ears.

"Mom.  I need a new dress."
"Mom.  I need a ride to the mall."
"Mom.  Did you get my gym suit washed?
"Mom.  I"m hungry.  What's for dinner?"
"Mom.  I did have my homework done.  I don't know what the teacher is talking about."
"Mom.  Can I take the car?"

Her heart stops for a moment as she places the keys in the hand that she held and supported through the first steps.

She watches headlights shine through the window and with each set that doesn't pull into the driveway, she prays for the safety of this one she loves.  And when the lights finally pull in and the car shuts off, she sighs and smiles and prays a silent "Thank You."  She now will sleep.

Lost in the part of her mind, governed by her heart, she will forget the nights without sleep, the roll of tissue floating in the toilet, the bangs cut clear to the scalp, the mud tracked on the carpet, the dented fender and her cashmere sweater loaned to a friend.  These are just the hurdles of motherhood, tucked away to sometime reappear as memories that will bring the smiles. And the sound of "ma-ma" rings in her ears again.

"Mama.  He loves me."
"Mama.  He wants to marry me."
"Mama.  I'm going to have a baby."

And the tears come.

She watches her daughter paying homage to a porcelain god.  Her stomach is starting to protrude.  Her feet are swelling.  Is that a walk of a duck?

The time comes.  She watches her daughter locked in the pain of motherhood and wishes she could take the burden on for her, but knowing that she can't reaches down and kisses the forehead of this special spirit that she loves so much.  Her daughter reaches up and takes her hand and holds on tight realizing how many times she has depended upon those hands.  She looks into the eyes of her mother and understands.

And the tears come.

Friday, April 10, 2015

A Letter to Danny ~ April 9, 2015

Hi Honey:

I was just wondering.  At the times when I miss you the most, is it because you are so near to me and yet I can't see you?

I'm missing you today honey.  I always do, but some days more than others.  Memories run through my mind like a movie set on rewind.  It's funny the regrets I have.  It's all the little things.  Things I said in the heat of argument or frustration.  Times I didn't reach over and hold your hand.  Times I took for granted your just being there with me.  Times I chose to stay home and clean house instead of going fishing with you.  I'm sorry honey for all the little things.

When I think of you honey, its the little things I think of most.  It's your saying "Your eyes are sure green this morning" or "Hey pretty one".  Yes honey I even miss "Would you get me a Pepsi."  I miss the feel of your hand taking mine as we drive down the road.  I miss laying my head on your shoulder and placing my hand on your chest above your heart  I miss your calling me snuggler.

I had no idea honey.  I wonder if others do.  Do others know how important the little things in this life are.  Do they have any idea how those little things add up to make a life.  It's really not the big things.  It's not the house you live in.  It's all the little moments that make up life in that house.  It's not the car you drive, but the memories made in the trips in that car.  It doesn't matter if you are eating steak, or tuna sandwiches.  It's the sharing the meal together that is what's remembered; that is important.

If only, I tell myself.  If only I could relive our lives together.  I would hold on to each little thing.  I would hold each tight to my breast and not let it go; not let it be forgotten.

I recall our little glass coffee pot that sit over a candle to keep our coffee warm and how we would sit it on the coffee table and by the light of that little candle would have apple pie and coffee.  I remember the smell of your aftershave and the dust on your hat after coming in from work.  I remember the moles on your back and your hair hanging on your neck before you said you needed a hair cut and went to "have your ears lowered"  I remember your elk skin gloves and your can of Copenhagen.  How you kept your driver's license turned in your wallet so your picture didn't show.  You hated that picture.  How you would come in smelling of diesel fuel and gasoline from working on your equipment.

Millions of little things honey.  Millions of things that bunched together and created our life together.  Thank you honey.  Thank you for the little memories that I have of you.  They make me smile and they make me cry, but only because I love you so much.

Save a place for me honey.  Wherever it is you are at is where I want to be.

Far Beyond the 12th of Never.


Thursday, March 12, 2015

Daren's Letter~ March 12, 2015

Good Morning Sweetheart:

(Do you have mornings where you are?)  I've been thinking about you this morning and the thoughts have brought smiles to my face.

I was remembering when we moved into the house in Moose Creek.  You had so graciously given up your bed to your dad and me.  You had made a bed in the living room and was trying to get some sleep. Your dad on the other hand had decided to repair the latch on the bedroom door at the same time.  At that point of time, he wasn't thinking quite clearly.  There you lay, and the pounding began; hammer against door frame.  You pulled your covers over your head and turned away from the noise. The pounding continued.  You put the pillow over your ears.  The pounding continued.  Then, you pulled away the covers and the pillow and you had the most miserable look on your face.  I was folding clothes...quietly, but when I looked at your face, I burst out laughing.  You shook your head, smiled and then went in the bedroom to help your dad fix the latch.  Thank you honey for your smile and for helping your dad.

Mark, Dawna, Trenton and I went for a ride up by Kamas last Sunday.  As we were riding along, I remembered a hunting trip we went on when you were a young man.  We had Mark, Robert, Donny, Darrin Welch and some others with us then.  You were all riding in the back of your dad's truck, looking for deer.  All of a sudden everyone spotted this buck out in a field.  Your dad slowed down, but before the truck came to a stop all of you were out of the bed and tearing towards the deer.  I remember looking in the rearview mirror and all I saw were a bunch of long legs marathoning it across a fence and through the field.  You all looked so funny.  That poor deer.  It was gone in a flash, but I'm sure you scared the heck out of it.

You were always such a good sport, no matter how silly your sisters and I tried to make you look. The Easter at Haley's house when we made you put a pair of panty hose with a ball in the toes on your head and try to knock over a object without using your hands.  You just had to swing your head and try and make the ball in the toe connect.  Then when we had you and Perry (both far over 6' tall) jump through a hoola hoop while running a race.  You both had to bend about in two to get that hoola hoop around your head and then under your feet.  You were so much fun honey.  You have made me smile so much in my life.

I have peace in my heart honey, knowing that you are happy where you are at now.  I know that as much as your dad drove you crazy at times, there was a point sometime before you both came to earth that your dad said "I'll leave earth first, so I'll be there when 'Ole Dare gets there."  I'm sure that was his plan honey.  I'm quite certain the door latches don't need repaired there.

Well my darling boy.  I will end this note to you.  I just wanted you to know that you still make your mom smile.  My memories of you make losing you bearable.

I love you honey.  You are a light in my eye and warmth in my heart.

Forever and ever my baby you'll be.


Tuesday, March 10, 2015

A Letter to Danny - March 10, 2015

Hello Honey:

I'm sure you know how much I have been missing you lately.  I don't think I will ever get over not having you here; not having your common sense around me.

I have been thinking a lot about life honey.  Once upon a time when I was young, I thought I was smart.  Then, everything seemed either black or white, wrong or right.  I know I developed my way of thinking from several factors, two of them being society and the religion I was born into.  It has taken me all these years to find out, that way of thinking is incorrect.  Nothing is that simple.

Who deserves to be called wrong or right, good or bad?  No one knows, so how can we place an erroneos label on another.   For example:

Our son suffered with his addiction for most of his life.  His addiction caused him to make perhaps choices that made life harder for him and for those who loved him.  But was he a bad person?  A lot of people would label him as so, based on what drugs brought out in him.  But did they really know him.  Do they know that because Daren went through the battles with his personal demons, his six other siblings didn't fall into the same trap that he had fallen into.  Do they know that his twenty-three nieces and nephews also made the choices to not follow in Daren's footsteps as far as drugs were concerned?

I know honey, you are there with Daren now.  I know that you and he now know the purposes of so many things; Daren's life included.  And honey, I feel it with all my heart, that this boy, this man who walked this life as an addict perhpas wasn't "bad" as some might label him, but instead had made a very difficult decision to make a sacrifice in this life; a sacrifice to be an addict so he could be a teacher.  I have said many times, the greatest teacher I had in my life was Daren.  He didn't teach me from a classroom.  He didn't teach me from a pulpit.  But he taught me none the less.  He taught me unconditional love.  For I did love him unconditionally.  He taught me patience.  He taught me understanding.  He taught me compassion.  He taught me so many things that exemplify Jesus Christ.  Is this the work of a "bad" person.  I think not.

Honey, the same can apply to those in our family who suffer from mental health problems.  Should they be labeled as "bad" because their illness might create problems that others do not suffer.  Are they less than "good" because of the hand they were dealt?  I have watched our daughter suffer so much.  Yet, when someone needs her, she is there.  She doesn't hesitate to share her talents, her money, her time.  Is this the work of a "bad" person?  Again, I think not.  Yet there are those who would label her as not good enough.

I will be careful in labeling anyone honey, for my children have taught me that to place a label on someone when you do not know their purpose in this life, is unfair.  None of us know the purpose of another's life.  Are they the students of life, or are they the teachers?  

In a court of law, an accused is either defined guilty or innocent because of all the evidence that is put before them.  They cannot be judged guilty, unless there is proof to their guilt.  Unless the unknown is made known.  Until we as people can know the unknown, we shouldn't judge anyone else.  We shouldn't label them as good or bad, because we really don't know the whole story.

So, when you see our son again, give him a hug for me.  Tell him that I am so thankful that I was entitled to be his mom.  Tell him I appreciate the lessons he taught me and because of his being so-called "bad" helped me to be better. My life was blessed because of him.

And my darling husband, my life was better because of you too.  You too were my teaacher.  I am better as a person by being your wife.

I love you honey.  Far Beyond the 12th of Never.


Monday, January 19, 2015

Daren's Letter ~ January 19, 2015

Hi Honey:

Has it really been two years?  Your dad always said when you look ahead, the future seems so far away, but time goes by so quickly.  Time has gone by quickly honey, but it seems like only yesterday that I lost you.

"You died without an enemy.  You were the light in my eye, the darling of my heart."  This is what Abigail Adams, John Adams' wife said about their son who died from alcohol.  When I read it, it was so the way I feel about you.

I went to your house at Christmas time.  Christian invited me over.  He took good care of me honey; just the way you would have wanted him too.  He made me dinner of crab legs, salmon, baked potatoes and Red Lobster biscuits.  He attempted pie dough from a recipe I gave him, but I had to tell him when baking pies, you really do need measuring spoons and measuring cups.  I will see he has them next year.  He had the tree up I gave to him and Vince, all decorated in the mountain man ornaments.  I walked into the bedroom and opened the closet and saw your shirts hanging there.  Your well-worn orange Mark Whiting Construction shirt was the first to catch my eye.  I held it close and tried to capture your scent on it, but I couldn't.  Christian gave me all your old Levis.  I cut the legs off them and will turn them into quilt blocks and then into a quilt for your boys.  Tucked between the Levis were your old camo shorts you wore so often.  I couldn't cut them honey.  They had to remain whole and old and worn.

Vince stayed in Utah for Christmas.  He is still here honey.  Mark is teaching him the ropes of Utah construction the way you would have if you were here.  Vince says dirt is in his blood too.  Rainee made certain he was taken care of for Christmas.

The three of us, Vince, Christian and I make it through each day but I look at them and I can see the loss in their eyes.  They miss your dearly my boy...they love you dearly.  But then you are easy to love.

Christian and I talked about how much you hate lemon pie; when you said it made you mad for anyone to like it.  But you loved my lemon jello even though when you tried to make it you said it was like lemon rubber bands.

I'm glad I didn't know the future honey.  I'm glad I didn't know you would be leaving me.  You always said you would, but I wouldn't let myself believe you knew what lay ahead.  I'm glad I didn't.  It's hard enough to look back and see myself without you, than it would have been to look ahead and imagine myself without you.

Life goes on, and I can't imagine sometimes how.  How can it go on when part of your heart is missing, when part of your world has collapsed.  But second after second, minute after minute and soon a day is yesterday and I wonder how I have made it through another one without you and your dad.

It does comfort me to know you are together.  Perhaps so very long ago before our family time began, it was pre-arranged for your dad to go and be there to meet you.  I don't know for certain honey.  I can only imagine, only what-if.

You have left no enemies honey.  You are the light in my eye.  You are the darling of my heart.

I'll love you forever.  I'll love you for always.  For ever and ever my baby you'll be.

Sweet Peace My Darling Boy.