Daren's Letter - January 30, 2014

Hello Honey:

I got your messages on my blog.  Thank you Sweetheart for using what I write to let me know you are still with me.

I hadn't planned on writing a letter to you on the anniversary of your death.  I wasn't going to write anything on Facebook either.  I had made the decision to mourn on my own that day.  Rainee was in Georgia when she texted me and asked the address of my blog.  A woman she was with wanted to read it, so I gave it to her and then went ahead and entered into it.  Had she not texted me, I wouldn't have received your message.

I started to cry when I saw what you had done.  On the letter I wrote to you on December 26th, you had underlined and changed the fonts to green on the words "Merry Christmas"  "Christmas Ornaments" "Flannel Jacket" and "Caribbean Cruise".  On the letter of January 9th you had done the same thing to "loved ones" and "peace and love."

They stayed that way until this morning.  When I went into my blog today, your changes were gone.  I found it interesting that when I went to the list of all the things I had written, there were two items that were listed as "Drafts" dated January 9th.  I don't do drafts, so I know that it was on that day; the day I was hurting so badly for you, that you made the changes in your letters.  You let me know you are with me. 

When your dad died, you knew I had such a hard time not being able to feel him, or dream of him.  You would tell me it was because my mind was too busy.  So, you found a way to get around my crazy mind.  You went to where you knew I would see.  You went to my writing. 

I love you so much Dare.  I miss you more than you can believe, but because you love me, you have made your being gone bearable now because I know you are looking over my shoulder. 

Tell your dad, I love him and miss him.  Of course, he knows it because he is looking over my other shoulder, but I like to tell him anyway.

I don't know what my destiny is on this earth.  I don't know when it will be my time to shed this body and fly to where you are, but I do know my darling son that when that time comes, you will be there to meet me.  So I will just imagine that you are living in some far off country and I haven't the means to visit you right now.  So I will write you my letters and tell you what is going on in my life.  I will say I love and miss you and I'll be happy when the time comes that I can afford to come to where you are. 

And on your letters I will mark WWAPSWAKGBTOWOT which means:
Written with a pen
Sealed with a kiss
God bless the one
Who opens this.

Sweet Peace my Darling Son.

Mom

Daren's Letter - January 9, 2014

Dear Daren:

I was told you see me when I write in my journal so I am hoping you are looking over my shoulder and reading what I am writing now.

Some days I don't handle your being gone, honey.  The last two days have been extremely hard.  I can't bear your not being here.  I can't face the fat that I wasn't with you the day(s) before you died.  I hate it so much that the last time I talked to you I didn't talk longer.  I didn't hear your voice longer and now you are gone and I have lost my chances.

I know you are okay where you are at.  I know you are at peace from your demons you fought here; demons of addiction.  I know you are with your dad and our other loved ones that have passed on.  I know you are in a place of peace and love, but I must be selfish because I would rather have you here with me.

I'd rather be able to talk to you.  I'd rather be able to see you walking down the isle  of Safeways.  I'd rather you be eating my cooking.  I'd rather be telling you that you need to give up your drugs, that you have so much potential and that I believe in you.

I'd rather be doing anything than sitting here writing a letter to you; a letter I don't know if you're reading or not, sitting here missing you so bad my heart feels like  it could break in two. 

"Get your mind quiet," you told me when your dad died.  "Get your  mind quiet and you will be able to feel him near.  He's with you, Mom.  You just won't let your mind be quiet enough to hear him or feel him near you."

I couldn't master it when your dad died and I can't with you now.

Everyone tells me to "believe."  I do believe.  It's not that I don't believe in Heaven.  It's not that I don't believe you and your dad are "in a better place."  I don't want to hear that "time will  heal."

I want you and I can't have you.  I can't have my baby, my sandy-haired boy, my handsome son.

Oh God honey.  Read over my shoulder.  Know there's this lady curled up on the couch writing a letter to you that loves you more than she loves life itself.

I'll try to quiet my mind.  I'll try to feel you; sense you.

I'll try baby.

Daren's Letter - December 26, 2013

Merry Christmas Sweetheart:

You were with us this year, even if we couldn't see you or hold you.  You were with us on December 3rd, when I took my mountain man Christmas ornaments to your boys and a tree to hang them on.  They were your favorite ornaments, so I gave them to Vince and Crush to keep.  You were with us when we ate the meatloaf and mashed potatoes and settled down on the couch to watch television until the wee hours of the morning.  You were with us on Christmas Eve when your crazy family gathered together and ate too much, laughed enough, and remembered having you with us last year.  Last year you gave Crush a flannel jacket, so I bought him another this year and signed your name to it. 

You were with Vince and Rainee and her family on their Caribbean cruise.  The night before they left, Rainee dreamed of you.  In her dream you told her you and your dad were with them.  You told her to watch for the signs, so she did.  When they went to board the ship, right in front of them sat a large storage container.  In the upper left hand corner it read "CAT", the same emblem your dad always had on the caps he wore.  As they walked through the buffet line, it was announced "Someone just requested we play some Lynnrd Skynyrd.  One of your favorite songs was "Simple Man" by Lynnrd Skynyrd.  Then as Rainee looked up, the gentleman in line in front of her was wearing a tee shirt with the words "Born Free" across it.  Kid Rock's "Born Free" is your song.  I listened to it every time I went for my walks in Utah. 

So my darling boy, knowing you were with us...beside us made getting through this holiday season easier.  I know you are just a breath away although I can't see you, or hear you or touch you.  I know you are with your boys and with your siblings and with your mom. 

I posted on Mark's Facebook that I recalled the time I found you and Mark curled up sleeping behind the Christmas Tree.  You were bound and determined to catch Santa.  And the times you would send Haley out to see if Santa had came yet.  You knew the rule was "No one up until the street lights went out," so you would send her out to get in trouble.  I am so thankful for my memories, honey. 

Honey, it was my first Christmas without you...one of the many firsts I'm about to experience without you, so to know you are beside us...with us made it bearable this year.  I love you so much and I miss you more than words can say, but you are here aren't you.  I can almost hear your laughter.

Sweet peace my darling boy.  Someday I will be with you and your dad again.

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

Mom

Daren's Letter - November 18, 2013

Hello My Boy:

Sitting here in Alaska in the early morning, listening to the quiet and thinking of you.  I don't worry about you and hell honey.  I don't worry about it at all because I know God knows what kind of man laid behind the actions of addiction...a mighty fine one.  Remember when I wrote this poem for you?  I wrote it after one of our conversations; one of the times you called me your angel.

I was standing there at the judgment seat

watching as my life rolled past my view.

It was too late to change my ways

there was nothing left for me to do.

 

The path to the left led straight to Hell

and I knew my time had come.

I'd danced the dance, now came the time

to pay for what I'd done.

 

Then I heard a voice behind me;

one I knew so well.

It said "Let me take his place Lord.

Let me do his time in Hell."

 

"Let me do his time in hell Lord

He's my baby still you see.

How am I to know his failures 
are not the cause of me.

 

"He was perfect when you gave him.

Please wash him clean again.

Put his sins upon my shoulders.

'Cause I'd walk through hell for him.

 

"Please let me bear his burden.

Let me pay his toll.

Put his sins upon my shoulders

and let heaven keep his soul."

 

When I turned I saw her by my side

right where she'd always been.

Trying to teach me to do the right

but beside me when I caved in.

 

Her love was unconditional

although I did my part,

to throw her love back in her face

and trample on her heart.

 

I watched her tears begin to fall;

tears that I knew so well.

As she begged God to allow her

To do my time in hell.

 

I awoke to find the morning sun

I felt tears upon my face

and knew I had another day

to try to earn my Lord's good grace..

 

The first thing I did was called my mom

and heard the voice I knew so well.

I said "You needn't worry Mom,

Neither of us will go to hell.

 

 

The thing I didn't realize back then Honey was that you were already doing your time in hell; your hell on earth.  I only hope my darling boy, that I helped make your time there a little easier. 

 

I love you so much Daren.  Your leaving has left me empty.  Please Honey, let your presence be felt among those that you love, your family, friends, whoever.  Let them feel you when they pick up that joint, when they pour out the pills, when they fill up their glass, if they pick up a syringe or cut a line.  Whisper in their ears that its not worth it.  Ask whoever is there with you to help them so they won't do their time in hell on earth.

 

I love you honey.  Sweet peace my darling boy. Tell your dad I love him too.  I miss both of you more than I can say.

 

 

Mom.

 

 

 

 

=

 

 

 

 

 

 

Pre Chorus:
I watched as her tears begin to fall,

 

 

 

 

Outcro

 

I woke to the light of morning sun.

I felt the tears upon my face.
And knew I had another day

to gain my Lord’s own grace.

The first thing I did was called my Mom,

and heard the voice I knew so well.
I said “Don’t you worry Mama,

neither of us will do my time in Hell.”

Repeat Chorus:

 

 

 

A Letter to Danny- November 13, 2013

Hello Honey:

Guess what?  I'm back in Alaska.  I flew in yesterday and as I walked out of the terminal headed towards baggage claim, I lost my breath.  The last time I made that walk, I was coming to pick up the pieces of my heart when Daren died.  The time before that, when I made that walk I was coming because you had left me. 

Two years ago today, I woke up thinking it would be a normal day.  I was at Mark's house getting things done so I could come home to you the next day. I didn't know that would be the day when my world would tumble down around me. 

We were watching Harry Potter; Mark, Dawna, the kids, and I, when the phone rang.  It was Haley telling me you had died.  I remember crumbling to the floor.  Then, I called the hospital and asked for the emergency room.  I was crying as I told them to put the phone up to your ear.  I needed to tell you that I loved you.  I heard them talking to you on the other end of the phone, telling you it was me on the phone.   I told you I loved you.  The nurse came back on the phone and told me she was sorry. 

Two years ago.  It seems like yesterday, and yet it seems like forever.  Time is so strange.  I remember you telling our kids that a year seems like such a long time when you look forward, but is just a twinkling of an eye when you look back on it. 

The old saying "Time heals all wounds," isn't really true.  Two years haven't healed me.  I'm just learning to deal with you not being with me.  You learn to deal...you don't heal.

I won't be sending up balloons today Honey.  I will do that on your birthday.  I will spend the day remembering you, our life together. 

You are with me all the time Honey.  When I wake, when I drive, when I write, when I clean, and right before I fall to sleep you are there; in my mind and in my heart.  You're with me when I look at the autumn leaves, when it rains, when the wind blows and today in Alaska when there is an ice storm.  The last ice storm I was a part of, I was with you; living in our little cedar house in Salcha, Alaska.  Schools and business had been shut down because of it, so you and I settled and kept warm and enjoyed just being together. 

I think if scientists could look into my heart, into my skin and into my soul, they would find part of your DNA there because you are such a part of me. 

I love you Honey.  Always have and always will.

Far Beyond the 12th of Never.

Susie

Daren's Letter - October 28, 2013

Hello Babe:

It's October here and with it came memories flooding in; memories of you my boy.  Twenty-eight days have slipped by and now it October is leaving. 

You had planned on being here this year.  You were going to go hunting elk up Dry Fork Canyon.  How I loved the times your dad and I shared with you up there.  How I have loved the times I shared with you everywhere.

Did you hear the song Mariah sang for you.  I shared it on Facebook.  You were so loved by so many honey. 

It's been over nine months and the emptiness is still inside me.  It's like a void is there that can't be filled up.  Like the best is in the past and I can't reach back and grab it and pull it up to now. 

Memories is a two sided sword.  In one way, when I drift back into them, the pain is so sharp, so real that I want to block them out.  Then in another, I'm mad at my brain that I'm not able to recall every single word, every action, every thought that had to do with you, so I could play it in my mind like a movie on a screen.  So I could have you with me again.

Yesterday, I pulled out my old camcorder and watched you and Mark on the trip you took to Canada and Arkansas hunting geese.  I watched and listened as you talked and laughed and acted up like you always seem to do when you get together.  Over and over and over again, you expressed how thrilled you were being there spending that time with your brother out in the country you both love so much.  But even being there doing what you loved so dearly, a time came when the demons ripped away at you.  They wouldn't let you be.  You left dinner and Mark found you passed out.  He took  you back to your room and got you settled into bed. 

What do I do honey?  What do I do to help you help others now?  I wrote your story and sent it up to Sheree's so Lindsay and Mariah could use it in their drug awareness program.  I can only do so much here honey.  I'm going to need your help.  I will keep trying to get your story out, and then you need to whisper into someone's ear that is in need of help; tell him/her to listen and to not be sucked into addiction as you were.  I will do my part honey, but I do need your help. 

When I think of heaven, I think of the very best that was here on earth, multiplied over and over again.  So, when it comes to you and your dad, I imagine you both are together on the very best elk hunt you could have ever imagined.  You have set up a wonderful camp with a tent that doesn't leak.  You have a campfire burning with a pot of coffee sitting over the coals.  You are probably with your Grandpa Don Whiting.  He always loved you so much.  You were his first Whiting grandson to carry on the Whiting name.  I can picture the three of you sitting there, enjoying the sounds of the night, the warmth of the fire, and the stars in the heavens.  Your Grandpa and Dad are telling you stories of their time on earth, of the people they loved, and the lessons they learned.  Of course, they will both tell you that you had a pretty great mom, and you will smile and tell them that I was your angel.  That's what you always said.    Now my darling son.  You are my angel. 

I love you honey.  Words can never express how much, or how much I miss you.  I absolutely hate not having any control. 

I'm going back to Alaska on the 12th of November.  I will be there to not celebrate your dad's death on the 13th.  I talked to Vince and he told me he was glad I was coming up.  I could fix Thanksgiving for everyone.  He told me I could give him an early Christmas present.  He wants me to copy my recipes into a recipe book for him.  Remember honey.  You wanted me to leave you my can that had all my recipe cards in it.  I told him he could go over to Shannon's and get the can, but he said he wanted me to rewrite them all.  A bossy boy you raised there.  So grandma will do it for him.

Well my boy, I feel better now I have written you.  The pain has become bearable again.  Give your dad a hug for me.  Tell him I love him with all my heart and miss him like crazy.  Give your grandpa a hug for me too.  He was a special person in my life.  Have you seen Grandma Sophia yet?  Did you apologize for the times when you and Mark were young and you would have Rainee go out of your room to tell Grandma Sophia you didn't like her.  Luckily, she didn't kill the messenger. 

Have you seen Aunt Mary and Uncle Ray?  Have they been coming home to find a sink full of trout the way they did when they were here?  You kept them in fresh fish. 

I know your Aunt Emy and Aunt Fran and Uncle Chris were happy to see you again.  They all thought you were pretty special.  You were. 

Honey, have you talked to my dad?  You probably know the answers to all the mysteries we had surrounding him.  Has he told you what his experiences were like here on earth.  Did he tell you he knew Baby Face Nelson and Al Capone?   Did he explain to you why he burned down those churches in Harco, Illinois and what the eight years in prison were like because he did.  You already know the answers to all the questions I've had for so many years.  Tell Daddy I remember the correct way to rake leaves just like he taught me.  Tell him I love him.

Well my darling boy, take care of everyone that I love there where you are, and I will take care of all you love here where I am. 

Until I get to feel your arms around me and hear you say "I love you, Mom" again, you will stay in my heart, my mind and my memories.

I love you honey.

Mom.

A Letter to Danny - September 18, 2013

Hi Honey:

It has happened.  Just like overnight it came; that soft golden hue that only comes with autumn.  How you loved this time of year.  You use to say that everything was better: your food tasted better, your home felt better, your clothes felt better once the dog days of summer gave way to the golden hue of autumn. 

The leaves are starting to change.  I noticed the red upon the mountains a few days ago and soon quaken asps will shed their leaves of green for those of yellow.  They were your favorite trees.  You would always say you could find a deer or elk hiding in their cover.  How you loved your hunts.  Hunting was your passion.  I remember telling my friend that if they took out licenses to hunt piss ants you would be the first in line. 

I remember the second year we were married and you were getting ready to go hunting with some of the guys that worked for you.  You asked me if I would see if I could find a coat for you; an orange one.  The weather was so cold that year.  We had a lot of snow as I set out in search of one that would keep my man warm.  Now, I laugh at what I brought home to you.  It was a very warm, very orange, very ugly, one-piece, orange cover-all.  It would have kept my man warm, but it would also had made him look like a giant orange marshmallow.  My heart was in the right place, just my hunting dress style was a bit off.  Needless to say, I had to return it.  Thank you for not making me feel then as silly as what I feel now. 

Being raised with just my mom, hunting was something we didn't do.  Until I married you, I had the Bambi Syndrome; thinking hunting as mean and cruel.  But when I married you, you showed me a man that loved to hunt, that respected the animals that he brought down, that was thankful for the meat that was put on our table.  I think in some past life, you were an American Indian; that was the type of love and respect you showed for the earth and the animals on it.  I learned to like to cook what you brought home...except for that goose. 

It was a beautiful bird as I prepared it with sage dressing.  It was only after I put it in the oven and the aroma drifted through the house that I started to vomit, and vomit, and vomit.  Of course, it wasn't really the bird itself that caused my distress.  It was the fact that I was pregnant with our second baby and morning sickness hit me with a vengeance.  I think the scent of roasting goose got into every fiber of our house.  I could smell it in our couch cushions, in the drapes, everywhere.  Of course, when a woman is pregnant, their sense of smell is so horrifically strong anyway.  After the goose was cooked (that's funny) you didn't even like the taste of it.  We had invited your dad over for dinner though and for a night of playing poker, and he loved it.  We sent it home with him and I never roasted another one.  There are two things, that after 47 years I still shudder about eating.  One is goose and the other is Dinty Moore Beef Stew. 

Remember our hunting trip out on the southwest desert the first year we were married.  We were hunting antelope and you fixed dinner over an open fire; dinner that consisted of a can of Dinty Moore Beef Stew.  I was pregnant with our first baby at that time and with one bite, I became so sick.  When I think of it, I can still smell the smoked taste of that stew and feel my stomach start to rumble. 

I miss those days honey.  I miss the days after when I wouldn't go with you hunting, but would stay at home with our babies while you went.  I enjoyed getting you ready to go.  I would plan your meals and purchase the food, and stock the trailer and watch you don your orange and take off.  While you were gone, I don't think I cooked a meal.  The kids and I would hit all the fast food joints in town until the night you came back home again. 

You were my life honey; you and our kids, and you still are.  Love doesn't die, does it.  It stays settled right in your heart.  As I sit here on my bed in the middle of the night, the love I had for you for all those years is still nestled inside me.  I'm learning to deal with my grief from losing you.  It doesn't go away, I just learn to deal with it.  It's boils and steams inside me until the pressure reaches the point that the tears come and I open my computer and write to you.  Then it is held at bay for a while longer.

I miss you honey and I will love you,

Far Beyond the 12th of Never.

Susie