Once upon a time there were 12 little boys. These little boys were very lucky indeed because they were all cousins. There were the four year olds, Jessie and Austin; the three year olds, Cody, Beau, Vince, Trenton and Slaytor, the two year old Tucker, the one year olds Christian, Jackson, and McKade and then a none year old Tanner.
One day as they were playing at Grandpa and Grandma Whiting's house they had a wonderful idea. They were going to have a camp-out!!!
"I know," said Trenton. Let's have it at my house. We have a big back yard and my daddy and mama won't care.
"Yeah!" said Slaytor. "That will be fun!"
"Cody and Beau and I all have our very own sleeping bags," said Jessie, "and I can bring the new blanket off my mom's bed if someone else needs some covers."
"I can borrow my dad's sleeping bag," said Austin. "It has blood on it from a bear my dad shot."
"Cool," said Slaytor with his eyes opened wide, "Where did he shoot it?"
"In his head," answered Austin proudly.
"I have my very own sleeping bag," Vince said. "Grandpa and Grandma gave it to me for my birthday. It has a Harvey David motorcycle on it,"
"Cool," Slaytor said excitedly. "What's a Harvey David Motorcycle?"
"I don't know," Vince answered. "He's somebody that my mom and dad likes."
The rest of the little boys just stood and listened. They didn't talk very much.
The next Saturday afternoon, Trenton was playing in his back yard with his little brother Jackson when everyone started coming.
Jessie and Cody and Beau arrived with three sleeping bags and the brand new quilt from their mom's bed. Jessie was wearing a large silver pan on his head. Cody and Beau carried large sticks.
Right behind them was Slaytor. He had his Ninja turtle sleeping bag under one arm and under the other he had a little cushion to his mom's new couch. In his teeth he carried a plastic bucket.
Following Slaytor was Vince and Christian. Vince had his Harvey David Motorcycle sleeping bag and a Barney sleeping bag for Christian. Christian was holding a little flashlight and a handful of string.
Austin and Tucker came next. Austin carried a very large sleeping bag that had the stains from the bear smack dab on it. Tucker carried his jacket and a candle and a smile from ear to ear.
McKade was the next to come. He was carrying his trusty bottle and a blanket, and one shoe that had fallen off.
"Hi Guys!" Trenton yelled as he ran to meet them. "You really did come."
"Trenton?" his mother called from the doorway. "What is going on?"
"We're having a camp-out at our house," Trenton called back excitedly.
"Did daddy say it was okay?" his mother questioned.
"Nope. Daddy doesn't know yet," Trenton replied. "Isn't he going to be excited?"
"Oh, I'm sure he will," his mother answered.
The boys busied themselves making their incredible camping spot. They decided that the very best place to sleep was underneath the trampoline. Trenton pulled off the blankets from his bed and with the brand new quilt Jessie had brought they laid them over the trampoline until they touched the ground all the way around. They didn't have anything to hold the blankets on top of the trampoline, so they all took off their shoes and laid them on the blankets to hold them in place.
It was getting dark, so they all climbed inside their huge tent and laid their sleeping bags and blankets out. It was getting darker and darker. Pretty soon it was so dark that they couldn't see each other.
"It's awfully dark in here," Vince said.
"Yeah," answered Austin. "I've got a good idea. Tucker has a candle."
"That's not a good idea," said Jessie. "We aren't allowed to use matches so we can't burn it."
"Oh yeah," replied Austin.
"Christian has a flashlight," Vince said excitedly.
"Good. Where is it?" asked Jessie.
"I don't know," Vince said. "I can't see."
"Let's all feel around," said Slaytor. "I bet we can find it if we just feel around for it."
All the little boys got down on their hands and knees and started feeling around for the flashlight.
"Ouch!" Slaytor screamed. "Somebody just stepped on my fingers."
There was a loud "thud" as Cody and Beau bashed into each other's heads.
"Cody! Watch out where I'm going!" yelled Beau.
"You need to watch out where I'm going," yelled back Cody.
"You guys," Jessie piped in. "How can you watch where you're going when you can't see? Just look for the flashlight."
"I found it!" yelled Trenton. Just then McKade began to cry.
"No you didn't," Austin said. "That's McKade's bottle. Give it back to him so he won't cry."
"Sorry 'Kade," Trenton said as he handed the bottle back to McKade who happily put it in his mouth and stopped crying.
"Here it is," Vince said as he turned on the little flashlight that made just the tiniest little glow.
"That doesn't make a very big light. Does it?" Slaytor said looking a little bewildered.
"Everybody just get in your bed," Jessie said, now being in authority.
All the boys snuggled down in their beds as Vince turned out the little flashlight.
"Did you hear that?" whispered Trenton.
"What?" whispered Vince.
"Sh-h-h," Jessie said.
"I think it's a bear," Austin replied.
They could hear something moving around in the dark night.
"Let's go kill it," Slaytor said standing up and picking up one of the twin's sticks. "Come on Jessie. We'll follow you. You go first."
"Why do I have to go first?" answered Jessie.
"Cause you're the oldest," Vince said.
"Oh. All right then." Jessie picked up his silver pan and placed it on his head and then picked up the other stick of the twin's. "Let's go kill it."
"Here," said Vince handing them the string that Christian had brought. "If you can't kill it, we can tie it up."
"Here," said Trenton, picking up the pillow that Slaytor had brought. "If he opens his mouth to eat us, we can shove this pillow in it."
"Good idea," Vince said. "You're smart."
"Thanks," smiled Trenton. Then we can fill Slaytor's bucket with water and drown him."
"They pushed back one of the blankets and sneaked out into the dark night each one holding on tight to the other.
"Ruff, ruff, ruff," Came a sound as a creature brushed up against their legs. "Ruff, ruff, ruff."
"Run," screamed Jessie.
"Run!" yelled Slaytor.
"Run!" cried Austin.
"Run fast!" Yelled Trenton.
And run they did. They ran so fast. Trenton threw open the sliding glass doors that led into his front room. In ran Jessie. In ran Slaytor. In ran Austin. In ran Trenton.
Early the next morning, Trenton's mama walked into the front room to find the four boys laying on the couch, laying on the floor and laying in the reclining chair.
"What are you guys doing in here?" she asked. "I thought you were sleeping out in your incredible camp."
"We had to come in," Trenton replied sleepily.
"Yeah," Slaytor said with a big yawn. We had to come in."
"Yep," Austin said stretching out his arms. "We had to come in."
"Why did you have to come in?" Trenton's mother asked puzzled.
"Cause the little boys were all scared," Jessie said as he turned over and faced the couch and fell back to sleep.
Trenton's mother walked out to the wonderful, scary camp and peeked inside. There lay Cody and Beau, Jackson, McKade, Tucker and Christian' all sound asleep. Trenton's dog Drake was sleeping nearby.
It had been a wonderful scary camping trip.
Wednesday, July 31, 2013
Thursday, July 25, 2013
Daren's Letter- July 25, 2013
Hi Honey:
It's one of those "if only" days. Our last conversation just keeps rolling around in my head. You sounded so sad. I should have stayed on the phone with you longer. I should have helped talk you through what you were feeling. That's what I usually did. But not that day. Not January 19, 2013. I heard the pain in your voice. I told you to just come home. You were suppose to be here in a week. "Come home and go on your cruise with Rainee. Your family is looking so forward to seeing you.' But then I had to include "Just come down and stay with your family. Don't go around your friends that you've done drugs with." I meant good honey. I just wanted you to come down and be my son and their brother. I just wanted you to enjoy being with us and not need your drugs. Oh God honey how I wish I would have stayed on the phone longer with you. How I wish we would have talked and talked and talked until we ran out of words. How I wish I would have said all the right things to you. But I didn't babe. I chalked it up to the times before when you would start to come off your last dose of pills and then feel depressed because you had taken them. It was more than that this time though wasn't it honey.
I know you didn't intentionally overdose. I know it was an accident. How do I know this? Because you never would have wanted to leave your sons. You loved them too much to do something so intentional that their pain might never go away. Your autopsy report states it was accidental. I know that. I think perhaps you didn't take anymore pills than you had taken before, but I think this time your body was just too weak to accept them. Your body was just too tired, too worn.
But maybe if I had talked to you more that night, you might not have taken that last dose that night. I know my darling boy. I know that it was inevitable that the day would come when you would take them and when your body would just say it was enough, too much. But just one more day. If I just had one more day with you. How we take for granted a single day in our lives. How we let one day go without appreciating all that is wrapped up in it. Yes my boy, maybe the day was inevitable that you would take those pills but maybe it might not have been that day. Maybe I would be sitting here this day and know you were in Alaska with your orange vest, your hard hat, and your work boots on. One day. How much is one day worth? More than words can say. For I would gladly sacrifice one of my own to have you hear with me right now.
I love you honey. I miss you so much. I need to stop this though. I need to wipe the tears off my face, blow my nose and pull myself together. Sitting here and wanting something I will never have again is useless.
I don't know how things work there where you are at. But I don't want you to feel bad for me. I don't want anything I feel to interrupt whatever it is you should be doing or feeling where you are at.
Just know that I love you with all my heart. Someday I will feel your arms hug me the way you use to do. I'll smell the scent of your cologne. And whose to say? I might even smell your cigarettes...Marlboro reds in a hard box.
Go have a cup of coffee with that dad of yours. Tell him I've written you and tell him I said to tell him I love him and miss him.
"I'll love you forever. I'll love you for always. Forever and ever my baby you'll be."
Mom.
It's one of those "if only" days. Our last conversation just keeps rolling around in my head. You sounded so sad. I should have stayed on the phone with you longer. I should have helped talk you through what you were feeling. That's what I usually did. But not that day. Not January 19, 2013. I heard the pain in your voice. I told you to just come home. You were suppose to be here in a week. "Come home and go on your cruise with Rainee. Your family is looking so forward to seeing you.' But then I had to include "Just come down and stay with your family. Don't go around your friends that you've done drugs with." I meant good honey. I just wanted you to come down and be my son and their brother. I just wanted you to enjoy being with us and not need your drugs. Oh God honey how I wish I would have stayed on the phone longer with you. How I wish we would have talked and talked and talked until we ran out of words. How I wish I would have said all the right things to you. But I didn't babe. I chalked it up to the times before when you would start to come off your last dose of pills and then feel depressed because you had taken them. It was more than that this time though wasn't it honey.
I know you didn't intentionally overdose. I know it was an accident. How do I know this? Because you never would have wanted to leave your sons. You loved them too much to do something so intentional that their pain might never go away. Your autopsy report states it was accidental. I know that. I think perhaps you didn't take anymore pills than you had taken before, but I think this time your body was just too weak to accept them. Your body was just too tired, too worn.
But maybe if I had talked to you more that night, you might not have taken that last dose that night. I know my darling boy. I know that it was inevitable that the day would come when you would take them and when your body would just say it was enough, too much. But just one more day. If I just had one more day with you. How we take for granted a single day in our lives. How we let one day go without appreciating all that is wrapped up in it. Yes my boy, maybe the day was inevitable that you would take those pills but maybe it might not have been that day. Maybe I would be sitting here this day and know you were in Alaska with your orange vest, your hard hat, and your work boots on. One day. How much is one day worth? More than words can say. For I would gladly sacrifice one of my own to have you hear with me right now.
I love you honey. I miss you so much. I need to stop this though. I need to wipe the tears off my face, blow my nose and pull myself together. Sitting here and wanting something I will never have again is useless.
I don't know how things work there where you are at. But I don't want you to feel bad for me. I don't want anything I feel to interrupt whatever it is you should be doing or feeling where you are at.
Just know that I love you with all my heart. Someday I will feel your arms hug me the way you use to do. I'll smell the scent of your cologne. And whose to say? I might even smell your cigarettes...Marlboro reds in a hard box.
Go have a cup of coffee with that dad of yours. Tell him I've written you and tell him I said to tell him I love him and miss him.
"I'll love you forever. I'll love you for always. Forever and ever my baby you'll be."
Mom.
Thursday, July 4, 2013
Daren's Letter - July 4, 2013
Hi Honey:
You know every time you read one of my letters, it's because I'm having a rough day and need to talk to you. I talked to your picture sitting on my dresser and told you that I love you but it wasn't enough. So here I am writing you.
Remember when you and your siblings were young, I would write you my letters that you and your brother and sisters would later name "dreaded letters." Dreaded because that would be my way of telling you I didn't approve of something you were doing. I figured if I wrote you a letter, I wouldn't have to listen to excuses or rebuttals. It worked then, but right now, this very minute, what I wouldn't give to hear one of your excuses or one of your rebuttals. Oh God honey how I'm missing you. This is my first 4th of July without you, and my first of not spending it with Vince and Christian.
I called them, just to hear their voices. They said they were planning on having a bar-b-gue there at the house, by themselves. They were alone and it broke my heart because I know they were thinking of you too. Their first without you.
Remember our 4th of Julys when you were young? We would always have a bar-b-que and then watch the fireworks. I remember you and Mark climbing up on top of the house to get a better view. We would set our own off in the street in front of our house and our little dog Poopsie loved them. You guys would light them and as they were twirling around on the street, she would grab them in her mouth and take off with them. By end of the night, she had seared whiskers, but she had fun searing them. Then, it seemed like those times would last forever, but they didn't. Did they Sweetheart?
Oh so fast, you all grew into adults with families of your own. At our Payson house, we would still have our bar-b-ques and the head count went from nine to thirty-nine. God how I loved every minute of those times. I wish I had bottled them and sit them on a shelf so today as I sit here on my bed writing this letter to you, I could open the bottle and enjoy them once again. "If wishes were fishes we'd all have a fry," your Grandma Sophia used to say. Or as your dad your dad would say "Wish in one hand and pee in the other and see which one fills up fastest." He had such a way with words. Tell him I am missing him today.
Two of my three men have slipped out of my life now. Mark is left holding me together. I don't think it has dawned on him that he is now the Patriarch of the family. I'll have to remind him of that one day when I feel like being mean to him. He misses you and your dad so much. You guys shared a lot of things together; more than most dad and brothers do. Not only were you family, but you were colleagues. It wasn't easy working together. Was it honey. I know back in the days, Mark wouldn't have thought the day would come when he would be missing having his dad and brother around to talk work-talk. But he does. I know because he tells me so quite often. If we all knew then what we know now.
Well my darling son, now that I've written you this letter, I feel better. I know it may sound stupid to some that when I write these letters, I feel they go out into the universe and that you can grab them and read them. How I wish you could write a letter there and send it out into the universe so I could grasp it and read it. I wouldn't even care if it were a "dreaded letter" of yours telling me what I was doing wrong and that you were disappointed in me. I would just like to pick it up, and know that you touched the paper and pen that wrote it.
I love you honey. I know that if I didn't believe there would be a time and place that I will be with you and your dad again, I would go crazy. It would be so unbearable to me. So I will hold that thought close to my heart and believe that one day, I will feel your arms around me in one of your bear hugs and say "Hi Mom." Until that day, please keep trying to place a message in my mind. Please keep trying to break down the wall that I have built that keeps me from feeling your presence.
"I'll love you for always. I'll love you forever. Forever and ever my baby you'll be."
Happy 4th of July Honey.
Mom.
You know every time you read one of my letters, it's because I'm having a rough day and need to talk to you. I talked to your picture sitting on my dresser and told you that I love you but it wasn't enough. So here I am writing you.
Remember when you and your siblings were young, I would write you my letters that you and your brother and sisters would later name "dreaded letters." Dreaded because that would be my way of telling you I didn't approve of something you were doing. I figured if I wrote you a letter, I wouldn't have to listen to excuses or rebuttals. It worked then, but right now, this very minute, what I wouldn't give to hear one of your excuses or one of your rebuttals. Oh God honey how I'm missing you. This is my first 4th of July without you, and my first of not spending it with Vince and Christian.
I called them, just to hear their voices. They said they were planning on having a bar-b-gue there at the house, by themselves. They were alone and it broke my heart because I know they were thinking of you too. Their first without you.
Remember our 4th of Julys when you were young? We would always have a bar-b-que and then watch the fireworks. I remember you and Mark climbing up on top of the house to get a better view. We would set our own off in the street in front of our house and our little dog Poopsie loved them. You guys would light them and as they were twirling around on the street, she would grab them in her mouth and take off with them. By end of the night, she had seared whiskers, but she had fun searing them. Then, it seemed like those times would last forever, but they didn't. Did they Sweetheart?
Oh so fast, you all grew into adults with families of your own. At our Payson house, we would still have our bar-b-ques and the head count went from nine to thirty-nine. God how I loved every minute of those times. I wish I had bottled them and sit them on a shelf so today as I sit here on my bed writing this letter to you, I could open the bottle and enjoy them once again. "If wishes were fishes we'd all have a fry," your Grandma Sophia used to say. Or as your dad your dad would say "Wish in one hand and pee in the other and see which one fills up fastest." He had such a way with words. Tell him I am missing him today.
Two of my three men have slipped out of my life now. Mark is left holding me together. I don't think it has dawned on him that he is now the Patriarch of the family. I'll have to remind him of that one day when I feel like being mean to him. He misses you and your dad so much. You guys shared a lot of things together; more than most dad and brothers do. Not only were you family, but you were colleagues. It wasn't easy working together. Was it honey. I know back in the days, Mark wouldn't have thought the day would come when he would be missing having his dad and brother around to talk work-talk. But he does. I know because he tells me so quite often. If we all knew then what we know now.
Well my darling son, now that I've written you this letter, I feel better. I know it may sound stupid to some that when I write these letters, I feel they go out into the universe and that you can grab them and read them. How I wish you could write a letter there and send it out into the universe so I could grasp it and read it. I wouldn't even care if it were a "dreaded letter" of yours telling me what I was doing wrong and that you were disappointed in me. I would just like to pick it up, and know that you touched the paper and pen that wrote it.
I love you honey. I know that if I didn't believe there would be a time and place that I will be with you and your dad again, I would go crazy. It would be so unbearable to me. So I will hold that thought close to my heart and believe that one day, I will feel your arms around me in one of your bear hugs and say "Hi Mom." Until that day, please keep trying to place a message in my mind. Please keep trying to break down the wall that I have built that keeps me from feeling your presence.
"I'll love you for always. I'll love you forever. Forever and ever my baby you'll be."
Happy 4th of July Honey.
Mom.
Sunday, June 23, 2013
A Letter to Danny - June 23, 2013
Hi Honey:
It has crept upon me again. Just when I think I have myself under control, the pain hits and the only thing that makes it feel better is to write to you.
Night before last, just as I was between the non sleep and sleep stage, I heard your voice. You said one word "Susie". I opened my eyes quickly and said "I hear you honey." That was all there was.
For so many years honey, we were so blessed with not having accidents or illness fall upon our family. Of course, we struggled with Daren's addiction and with the emotional illness that affects our family, but still, I knew my prayers each day were answered that God keep you and our children safe from illness, harm or accident. But then I got the telephone call telling me I had lost you, and then fourteen months later got another telling me I had lost Daren. It's as though the magic bubble that had surrounded us had shattered and the pain I had prayed so hard to evade, had found its way in. And now Honey, as I've been forced to face the reality, I'm afraid. I don't know if I can handle another telephone call and yet, I'm afraid someday I will.
I tell myself don't think about that Susie. Don't ask for problems. So I keep a book with me wherever I'm at and when the fear comes, I pick up a book and read to keep my mind off it. Do you know how many books I have read since I lost you? A whole bunch.
I will continue my prayers for God to watch out over you, our children and our grandchildren. That we all will be safe from harm or accident or illness and that we will all strive to do those things that would be pleasing to God. Now though Honey, I will also pray that God will bless me that I will have peace that everything will be as its should be and that I will know that. I know I have my band of angels around me Honey, but if you can, would you send yours to me also. I can't wake up and be afraid each day.
I miss you so much and I miss our boy so much too. Tell him to listen to me. Will you? I want him to hear me tell him I love him. I want him to see that as I drive along listening to Kid Rock sing "Born Free" I send him a kiss to let him know that I understand and that I love him beyond words.
Would you tell my mom hello for me? Would you tell her to send me some of her strength? It's funny Honey, but when I think of her, I still feel like her little girl. Here I am a sixty seven year old woman, but when I think of my mom, I'm just her baby again.
Well my love, I'm going to turn on my Kindle and read until I fall asleep. When you get a minute, come sit on my bed by me and if by chance you see a time when my brain is quiet for a minute, talk to me again.
Good Night Honey. Tell Daren his mom misses him so much.
Far Beyond the 12th of Never.
Susie
It has crept upon me again. Just when I think I have myself under control, the pain hits and the only thing that makes it feel better is to write to you.
Night before last, just as I was between the non sleep and sleep stage, I heard your voice. You said one word "Susie". I opened my eyes quickly and said "I hear you honey." That was all there was.
For so many years honey, we were so blessed with not having accidents or illness fall upon our family. Of course, we struggled with Daren's addiction and with the emotional illness that affects our family, but still, I knew my prayers each day were answered that God keep you and our children safe from illness, harm or accident. But then I got the telephone call telling me I had lost you, and then fourteen months later got another telling me I had lost Daren. It's as though the magic bubble that had surrounded us had shattered and the pain I had prayed so hard to evade, had found its way in. And now Honey, as I've been forced to face the reality, I'm afraid. I don't know if I can handle another telephone call and yet, I'm afraid someday I will.
I tell myself don't think about that Susie. Don't ask for problems. So I keep a book with me wherever I'm at and when the fear comes, I pick up a book and read to keep my mind off it. Do you know how many books I have read since I lost you? A whole bunch.
I will continue my prayers for God to watch out over you, our children and our grandchildren. That we all will be safe from harm or accident or illness and that we will all strive to do those things that would be pleasing to God. Now though Honey, I will also pray that God will bless me that I will have peace that everything will be as its should be and that I will know that. I know I have my band of angels around me Honey, but if you can, would you send yours to me also. I can't wake up and be afraid each day.
I miss you so much and I miss our boy so much too. Tell him to listen to me. Will you? I want him to hear me tell him I love him. I want him to see that as I drive along listening to Kid Rock sing "Born Free" I send him a kiss to let him know that I understand and that I love him beyond words.
Would you tell my mom hello for me? Would you tell her to send me some of her strength? It's funny Honey, but when I think of her, I still feel like her little girl. Here I am a sixty seven year old woman, but when I think of my mom, I'm just her baby again.
Well my love, I'm going to turn on my Kindle and read until I fall asleep. When you get a minute, come sit on my bed by me and if by chance you see a time when my brain is quiet for a minute, talk to me again.
Good Night Honey. Tell Daren his mom misses him so much.
Far Beyond the 12th of Never.
Susie
Sunday, June 9, 2013
Daren's Letter - June 9, 2013
And so my son, some days are better than others. Some are worse. I don't know why that is. I've tried to sort it out in my mind and have yet to reach a conclusion. When the pain comes; when I feel as though the knife has reached my heart and turned, I wonder why. What was I thinking. What was I smelling. What was I hearing that changed how I felt so quickly.
Yesterday I was busy. "Get up and get busy," your dad would say. "It will make you feel better." And I had been busy for the better part of the day, but then it crept in; the pain of missing you. So I downloaded songs by Kid Rock and Lynard Skynyrd, burned them onto a CD, called Frodo to come with me and you and I went for a ride. Did you notice the kiss I sent into the air when I played Kid Rock singing "Born Free." Did you attempt to wipe the tears I couldn't hold back?
I talked to you. I told you how much I love you. I told you that this thing called life is full of lessons, some of which we all will pass and some we will fail and need to take the class over again. Did you hear me tell you that you passed so many of your classes.
Did you hear me say "I hope so," when I played Lynard Skynyrd's "Simple Man." I had heard you said that song reminded you of me. It tells of a mother that tries to teach her son what is really important in this life. You learned much from someone honey. You learned to be kind, compassionate, giving and loving. I hope I played a part in those parts that made you, you.
I tried to call Vince and Christian. I just needed to hear their voices. But they weren't by their phones. I left them messages. I told them how much I loved them, that I missed them, and I was proud of them.
I don't understand this thing called grief. I keep telling myself over and over that I am not the first nor will I be the last to lose someone I love so dearly. And I know that Honey, but it doesn't matter. After I've lectured myself and scolded myself using the part of my brain that is logical, the part of my heart that hurts says "But that knowledge doesn't make it any better."
So I sit on my bed and write this letter to you because when I do, I feel my words are going out into the universe and into your ears, into your heart. When I write, I think you receive my letters. It is no longer just words or thoughts whispered into the air. It is words and thoughts written down, tangible, real. As real as my love for you.
So honey, I have my CD in my car. It's labeled Susie's Songs, but it's not really mine. They are your songs. Songs that meant something to you. Songs that you related to. And because they are a part of you, they will be a part of me.
I love you honey. I do find comfort in knowing you are at peace now. I know you no longer feel the pain your earthbound body was forced to endure. If I close my eyes and listen close, I can almost hear your laughter echoing heaven. I'll keep trying to hear it honey, because if I hear you laugh, then I will find some sense of joy in all that I do not understand.
Good night honey.
Sweet Peace my Boy.
Mom
Yesterday I was busy. "Get up and get busy," your dad would say. "It will make you feel better." And I had been busy for the better part of the day, but then it crept in; the pain of missing you. So I downloaded songs by Kid Rock and Lynard Skynyrd, burned them onto a CD, called Frodo to come with me and you and I went for a ride. Did you notice the kiss I sent into the air when I played Kid Rock singing "Born Free." Did you attempt to wipe the tears I couldn't hold back?
I talked to you. I told you how much I love you. I told you that this thing called life is full of lessons, some of which we all will pass and some we will fail and need to take the class over again. Did you hear me tell you that you passed so many of your classes.
Did you hear me say "I hope so," when I played Lynard Skynyrd's "Simple Man." I had heard you said that song reminded you of me. It tells of a mother that tries to teach her son what is really important in this life. You learned much from someone honey. You learned to be kind, compassionate, giving and loving. I hope I played a part in those parts that made you, you.
I tried to call Vince and Christian. I just needed to hear their voices. But they weren't by their phones. I left them messages. I told them how much I loved them, that I missed them, and I was proud of them.
I don't understand this thing called grief. I keep telling myself over and over that I am not the first nor will I be the last to lose someone I love so dearly. And I know that Honey, but it doesn't matter. After I've lectured myself and scolded myself using the part of my brain that is logical, the part of my heart that hurts says "But that knowledge doesn't make it any better."
So I sit on my bed and write this letter to you because when I do, I feel my words are going out into the universe and into your ears, into your heart. When I write, I think you receive my letters. It is no longer just words or thoughts whispered into the air. It is words and thoughts written down, tangible, real. As real as my love for you.
So honey, I have my CD in my car. It's labeled Susie's Songs, but it's not really mine. They are your songs. Songs that meant something to you. Songs that you related to. And because they are a part of you, they will be a part of me.
I love you honey. I do find comfort in knowing you are at peace now. I know you no longer feel the pain your earthbound body was forced to endure. If I close my eyes and listen close, I can almost hear your laughter echoing heaven. I'll keep trying to hear it honey, because if I hear you laugh, then I will find some sense of joy in all that I do not understand.
Good night honey.
Sweet Peace my Boy.
Mom
Saturday, May 25, 2013
Daren's Letter - May 25, 2013
So my darling, out of my need to know, I went to the medium. When she asked what I would like to happen, I told her, I would like to talk to you. She could have told me any number of things and I would not have known the difference but she was kind enough to tell me "Your son's energy level is very low. I'm having a hard time getting through to him. He's telling you "I'm so sorry, Mom."
Honey, I know that part of this thing we call life and death, comes a part where we need to account for our actions in this life. All of do. All of us will. But oh Daren, I don't want you to be sorry for me. I don't want you to feel guilt because of me. You see my darling, handsome son, I know you. I know you would never have done anything to intentionally hurt me. Any pain I was caused, was caused by your addiction and not by your soul, not by my son. You made me happy. You made me laugh. You made me feel secure. You made me feel loved. You don't need to feel guilt towards me honey. But if in the scope of things I need to tell you I forgive you, then my boy, I forgive you.
"He's mentioning a white rabbit," the medium said. "Do you know the significance of a white rabbit?"
Out of all of our 46 years together on this earth, you mentioned the white rabbit. Why? What is important about a white rabbit with a broken leg that you found tangled in a hedge and brought home to me. You were on your way to elementary school, when you found it. You brought it home and we took it to the vet and had its leg set. I have pondered the last ten days as to why this was so important to you; or is it because it is important to me?
During my life, I hope that I have done good deeds. I hope I have done many, but I'm not certain if any were done without some form of bitterness or complaint or "why me" attitude. The only one I can think of now that you mention it, was the white rabbit. It wasn't an inconvenience to take that white rabbit to the vet. It wasn't an inconvenience to pay $75.00 to get its leg set. It wasn't about me in anyway. It was about the white rabbit.
Were you trying to let me know that somewhere in my life, I did an unselfish deed, or were you trying to let me know how important it is to do unselfish acts. Our white rabbit will no longer just be a memory to me, Sweetheart. It will be a learning aid that I will try and use throughout the rest of my walk in this life. From this day forward, the memory of the white rabbit will become the parable of the white rabbit.
The medium didn't charge me for her intervention. "You wanted to talk to your son, and I couldn't make that happen," she said.
You weren't able to use your energy to speak with me, but you pulled as much energy as you could muster together to remind me of the white rabbit. It must be so very important.
The medium said you were surrounded by spirits that were protecting you. I don't understand what it is all about. I won't pretend to. I will take solace in knowing that wherever you are, there are those who love you enough to surround you with their love; to protect you as I would if I could be with you.
I love you Dare. I miss you more than words can say. Thank you for bringing home the white rabbit; for enabling me to do something Christ-like. "For if you have done it unto the least of these, you have done it unto me."
Sweet Peace My Darling Son.
Mom
Honey, I know that part of this thing we call life and death, comes a part where we need to account for our actions in this life. All of do. All of us will. But oh Daren, I don't want you to be sorry for me. I don't want you to feel guilt because of me. You see my darling, handsome son, I know you. I know you would never have done anything to intentionally hurt me. Any pain I was caused, was caused by your addiction and not by your soul, not by my son. You made me happy. You made me laugh. You made me feel secure. You made me feel loved. You don't need to feel guilt towards me honey. But if in the scope of things I need to tell you I forgive you, then my boy, I forgive you.
"He's mentioning a white rabbit," the medium said. "Do you know the significance of a white rabbit?"
Out of all of our 46 years together on this earth, you mentioned the white rabbit. Why? What is important about a white rabbit with a broken leg that you found tangled in a hedge and brought home to me. You were on your way to elementary school, when you found it. You brought it home and we took it to the vet and had its leg set. I have pondered the last ten days as to why this was so important to you; or is it because it is important to me?
During my life, I hope that I have done good deeds. I hope I have done many, but I'm not certain if any were done without some form of bitterness or complaint or "why me" attitude. The only one I can think of now that you mention it, was the white rabbit. It wasn't an inconvenience to take that white rabbit to the vet. It wasn't an inconvenience to pay $75.00 to get its leg set. It wasn't about me in anyway. It was about the white rabbit.
Were you trying to let me know that somewhere in my life, I did an unselfish deed, or were you trying to let me know how important it is to do unselfish acts. Our white rabbit will no longer just be a memory to me, Sweetheart. It will be a learning aid that I will try and use throughout the rest of my walk in this life. From this day forward, the memory of the white rabbit will become the parable of the white rabbit.
The medium didn't charge me for her intervention. "You wanted to talk to your son, and I couldn't make that happen," she said.
You weren't able to use your energy to speak with me, but you pulled as much energy as you could muster together to remind me of the white rabbit. It must be so very important.
The medium said you were surrounded by spirits that were protecting you. I don't understand what it is all about. I won't pretend to. I will take solace in knowing that wherever you are, there are those who love you enough to surround you with their love; to protect you as I would if I could be with you.
I love you Dare. I miss you more than words can say. Thank you for bringing home the white rabbit; for enabling me to do something Christ-like. "For if you have done it unto the least of these, you have done it unto me."
Sweet Peace My Darling Son.
Mom
Monday, May 13, 2013
Daren's Letter - May 13, 2013
Hi Sweetheart:
You've been heavy on my mind the last few days. Mother's Day was a little empty without getting your call. I miss you honey. I'm so glad I was chosen to be the one you would call Mom.
My gosh Honey we walked a bumpy road. Didn't we. Looking back and with 20/20 hindsight, had God given me the chance to bow out of the problems that your addiction presented me, I would do it all again because of the man you were beneath the addiction.
There are times my darling that I feel guilty. I know. If you were here, you would tell me I have nothing to feel guilty about. Your siblings will do the same. But all the "what ifs" seem to creep into my mind. What if...
When you moved to Alaska, I was so happy to see the pictures Haley and Jereme posted on Facebook. Pictures that showed you and your boys with your fish you'd caught. You put on weight and would joke that you were becoming a real "Whiting" because you had. And the rest of us would joke that it was time you realized what carrying extra weight was all about and be able to empathize with the rest of us. But you looked so wonderful in the pictures. Gone was the gaunt, even though your being gaunt still left you so handsome. But when you got to Alaska, you looked so healthy and happy and well. And that presents one of my "what ifs".
It was after we moved there with you, you searched out your drugs again. What if your Dad and I had not come to Alaska, had not moved in with you. Did our presence unearth feelings that you had started to bury. Was it a memory that we carried with us that would haunt you again. I know my darling boy. You are telling me "Stop it Mom." But the truth is, your emotional foundation had been weak. It had been for many years. I guess you now know the complete truth. Had we not moved to Alaska and moved in with you, would you have continued growing and holding your addiction at bay.
I can't change anything now honey. I can't change your dad dying. I can't change it was you who found him and tried to resuscitate him. I can't change a darn thing. Oh God Honey. Had it be in my power to do so, I would. I would change so much. "If wishes were fishes, we'd all have a fry, your grandma Sophia would say. But I can't change a thing, so I just sit here with my regrets and wonder what if.
And so to preserve my own sanity, I will sit aside my "what ifs." I will replace them with my memories. I will remember my young tow-head little boy, my handsome grown son. I will remember how much you loved me and how much I love you. I will remember how you loved my Spanish rice, lemon jello, apple cake, potatoes and onions and everything else I cooked. I will remember you telling me that you wanted me to bequeath to you my recipe box and you didn't want me to rewrite my apple cake recipe even though it was so worn it was hard to read in places. I will remember your telephone calls asking my advice on anything from doing your laundry to a girl you were dating. I remember you loved the smell of Gain laundry soap. I will remember your words of wisdom you handed down to your sons. "Wrap your hammer before you slam her." That one is a classic along with your teaching Vinnie the secret to a good worker is "head down, ass up" because that is how a real hole was dug.
I'll recall your taking me out to dinner at the Italian Restaurant on College Road and how you ate my pasta and I ate your beets.
I'll remember how long it took you to shower. (That you passed on to your sons.) And how good you always smelled.
I'll remember your quick wit. And I will remember how much you loved your family. I will remember your blue Chevy truck and hunting elk up Dry Fork Canyon.
I will be happy that everyone of our telephone calls were ended with you saying "I love you, Mom." and my saying "I love you."
I'll love you forever, I'll love you for always. Forever and ever my baby you'll be.
I'm glad you have peace now my darling boy.
Mom.
You've been heavy on my mind the last few days. Mother's Day was a little empty without getting your call. I miss you honey. I'm so glad I was chosen to be the one you would call Mom.
My gosh Honey we walked a bumpy road. Didn't we. Looking back and with 20/20 hindsight, had God given me the chance to bow out of the problems that your addiction presented me, I would do it all again because of the man you were beneath the addiction.
There are times my darling that I feel guilty. I know. If you were here, you would tell me I have nothing to feel guilty about. Your siblings will do the same. But all the "what ifs" seem to creep into my mind. What if...
When you moved to Alaska, I was so happy to see the pictures Haley and Jereme posted on Facebook. Pictures that showed you and your boys with your fish you'd caught. You put on weight and would joke that you were becoming a real "Whiting" because you had. And the rest of us would joke that it was time you realized what carrying extra weight was all about and be able to empathize with the rest of us. But you looked so wonderful in the pictures. Gone was the gaunt, even though your being gaunt still left you so handsome. But when you got to Alaska, you looked so healthy and happy and well. And that presents one of my "what ifs".
It was after we moved there with you, you searched out your drugs again. What if your Dad and I had not come to Alaska, had not moved in with you. Did our presence unearth feelings that you had started to bury. Was it a memory that we carried with us that would haunt you again. I know my darling boy. You are telling me "Stop it Mom." But the truth is, your emotional foundation had been weak. It had been for many years. I guess you now know the complete truth. Had we not moved to Alaska and moved in with you, would you have continued growing and holding your addiction at bay.
I can't change anything now honey. I can't change your dad dying. I can't change it was you who found him and tried to resuscitate him. I can't change a darn thing. Oh God Honey. Had it be in my power to do so, I would. I would change so much. "If wishes were fishes, we'd all have a fry, your grandma Sophia would say. But I can't change a thing, so I just sit here with my regrets and wonder what if.
And so to preserve my own sanity, I will sit aside my "what ifs." I will replace them with my memories. I will remember my young tow-head little boy, my handsome grown son. I will remember how much you loved me and how much I love you. I will remember how you loved my Spanish rice, lemon jello, apple cake, potatoes and onions and everything else I cooked. I will remember you telling me that you wanted me to bequeath to you my recipe box and you didn't want me to rewrite my apple cake recipe even though it was so worn it was hard to read in places. I will remember your telephone calls asking my advice on anything from doing your laundry to a girl you were dating. I remember you loved the smell of Gain laundry soap. I will remember your words of wisdom you handed down to your sons. "Wrap your hammer before you slam her." That one is a classic along with your teaching Vinnie the secret to a good worker is "head down, ass up" because that is how a real hole was dug.
I'll recall your taking me out to dinner at the Italian Restaurant on College Road and how you ate my pasta and I ate your beets.
I'll remember how long it took you to shower. (That you passed on to your sons.) And how good you always smelled.
I'll remember your quick wit. And I will remember how much you loved your family. I will remember your blue Chevy truck and hunting elk up Dry Fork Canyon.
I will be happy that everyone of our telephone calls were ended with you saying "I love you, Mom." and my saying "I love you."
I'll love you forever, I'll love you for always. Forever and ever my baby you'll be.
I'm glad you have peace now my darling boy.
Mom.
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