If I had know the last time was the last time…

Dear Papa,

Two days from now will be exactly 6 years since the last time I heard your raspy voice. The last time I was able to look into your eyes and see your love and pride toward me. The last time you gave me life lessons, heart-felt talks, and chided me for skipping class to spend time with you at the hospital. The last time I heard those words, the words you spoke to me, my sisters, and many of our friends everyday around 5:00pm. The last time I saw your scruffy smile, patted your bald head, and the last time I got a big bear hug with your whiskers scratching my cheek. The last time you told me how proud you were of me.

There were so many lasts on that day Papa, and had I known they were going to be lasts I would have never left that room. I would have held your hand all day and night. I’d have skipped class for the rest of the week just to have you talking to me for a little bit longer. I would have told so many more times how much you meant to all of us, and how much we all loved you. I would’ve watched Judge Judy with you until we were both sick of her. I would’ve listened to story after story that I knew were tall tales, but would’ve laughed with you nonetheless.

I wish I’d known that day what I knew today. I could come up with a million and one things to say to you, and then if you give me another 30 seconds I could think of a million and one more.

Megan’s wedding is getting so close, and I wish the same for her as I did for myself. That you could be there to see it. Papa, I’ve been collecting pictures of them for a slide show she wants and I wish you could see how happy she is now. She’s still your little Mean-Mi, but when Josh makes her smile she just glows. I wish could see your reaction to how much she’s changed in the last two years.

We all miss you so much. As soon as February comes around we all think about you a little more than we do every other day, because honestly we always think about you…We just get a little more sad around this time, because the memory of losing you still hurts so much.

I really wish I could forget the sound of the machines in the hospital, or how cold the floors were when I fell to the ground in tears, or the sound of the hospital chaplain as he read your last rights, or the look on Mama’s face as she held your hand while you slipped away from us. What I wish I could forget most, is watching those lines on the heart monitor going from reassuring spikes to a long flat green line…I wish I could forget watching your heart stop beating, because that heart was one that was so full of love, and I know it had so much more to give.

I know you would hate all of us still crying over you, but you really have no idea what you were to all of us. I just wish my phone would ring again, and your voice be at the other end…I know I wouldn’t want to hang up, but to hear “I love you baby, bye” again…there are no words.

I love you Papa, Bye.

To my dear sweet baby girl

My dearest Hannah Grace,

I wrote to Papa the last time I updated this blog, but last night your daddy and I got to talking about you, so I thought I’d write to you this time.

My sweet girl how we still love, miss, and think about you.

You probably joined all those kids from CT, along with the family members we all have up in Heaven with you to greet your baby cousin Kyle at the gates. Your Aunt Kim and Uncle Chris have been so strong ever since they found out about little Kyle’s condition. Its heartbreaking to lose such a precious gift, but that little baby gave such a gift to so many people, its amazing.

Your daddy and I were talking about him, and it got us to talking about you. There’s very few times I’ve seen your daddy cry, but every time we talk about you, it brings tears to his eyes. He was so excited that he was going to have a daughter. When we talk about you, I call you Gracie. I think of you with brunette hair in pig tails wearing a frilly pink dress that one of your grandmother’s bought or made you. He calls you Hannah. We know that you went to Heaven because God needed Braiden. Your brother, oh your brother. Hannah he’s such a little joy. He’s got this beautiful smile, and his laugh is such an uplifting melody. He’s been sick this week, but is doing much better.

As much as I love you, I don’t know what I would do without your brother, and if you had come to us, we would have put off having another child, and I wouldn’t have that baby boy. I know that you are in him somewhere though. Maybe its you he talks to early in the mornings, listening to you impart big sister wisdom on him. That would explain why he thinks he’s so sneaky. Or how he knows who’s wrapped around his little finger and who isn’t.

My dear sweet Gracie. We haven’t forgotten you sweet girl. We still shed tears over your loss, but we also smile because we know one day we’ll get to see your precious little face.

Now go back to running around Heaven’s front porch with your cousins and all those sweet children from CT. I know all your great grand parents, and other family members up there are watching and smiling at the carefree spirits of angelic children.

I love you sweet heart.

Your Mommy

Needing someone to talk to…

Dear Papa,

I created this blog thinking that I’d use it for maybe sharing recipes, or maybe parts of the book I’m writing (and currently taking a break from), or just venting to the world about stuff, but I think I do enough of that on Facebook, so today I decided that I’m using it to write letters to you. I know people reading these will probably think that I’ve lost my mind, but honestly talking to you always made me feel better about things when you were here, so even though I can’t sit next to you and tell you things that are on my mind, I think I’ll still get the same feeling of talking to you.

Its been a while since I broke down from missing you. I haven’t been able to stop by your gravesite and talk to you. I haven’t really focused on anything except work, school, parenthood, and being a wife here lately. Those things seem to consume all of my time. Its not that I haven’t thought about you, or wished that were still here, I just haven’t let myself dwell on it, because when I do it hurts to realize after almost 6 years how much I still miss you.

Yesterday Tim and I were cleaning out the guest room. We’re trying to get the house completely organized so when Christmas comes it’ll be easier to put away the umpteen million presents your spoiled rotten great grandson will get this year. I went through boxes of photos, clothes, toys, sorting them all out between good will, attic storage, what needs to be put somewhere else in the house, and things for my sister in law. I was going through a box of winter clothes and I came to this sweater that I’ve worn once. I worn it on a cold day in February. I went home and took it off and put it in a box. That box moved to my apartment, back to my mama’s, to Tim’s parents house, and then to our house. That sweater has not only my tears soaked into the sleeves, but Mama’s, Nana’s, Katie’s and Megan’s tears all soaked into the shoulders. I saw this sweater in this box and I picked it up and held it to my chest. I heard the songs I was barely able to sing, felt the tears I tried to hold back and look strong for mama and the girls, could see the smiles I smiled thinking about the good times, and I saw you….dressed in camo overall’s with a green shirt covered in bucks, your eyes closed, pictures of your girls in your hand, your hands over your mid section with your “monkey bitten” index fingers showing and I’m sorry Papa, but I cried. I stopped unpacking clothes and I just held that sweater and cried. I only wore it that day I was forced to say good bye to you. That day all of those people told me that it would be ok, you were in a better place, you would never leave me, and you wouldn’t want me to be sad. The fact is it was impossible to not be sad. One of the people I loved most in the world was gone, and I selfishly wanted you to come back. When I got home from the funeral that sweater went in a box and until yesterday it stayed there. It soaked in a few more of my tears while I sat on the guest room floor hugging it tight remembering you and how much I miss you. Tim sat on the floor and just held me, because he knew without me saying a word why I was crying. Then, like the little light of life that he is that amazing great grandson of yours came and hugged my neck and patted my head and said “Its ok, Mama”

Papa I wish you had met him before you left. He’s amazing. He’s so happy. His smile will light up the whole world. He’s finally starting to talk, and is so smart. Papa you would love him so so much. I now he’d be even more spoiled than he already is if you were here. I wish you were here to bounce him on your knee, or to walk to power line pointing out deer, rabbits, birds, flowers, and showing him the different animal tracks. He’s probably already have his own deer stand by now and a special tree where he could put it. In a couple of years I’m gonna start teaching him how to shoot, just like you taught me. I’ll probably cry when he hits hit first bullseye, just because I’ll remember how happy you were when I did. Those are times I miss with you the most. When it was just you and me at my gun competitions. If I shot the ring next to the center and it didn’t break the bullseye, I’d get so mad at myself, and you as patient with me as you were, would tell me how to calm down and get it the next time. You made me the girl who outshot all the boys. You’d be proud to know that it eats my father in law up when I outshoot him no matter what gun I’m aiming (My husband too)

I graduate College in May. Six months away, and I graduate college with a Criminal Justice Degree. Remember how proud you were when I graduated High School? I wish you could be there to hug me like you did when I got that diploma, because this one is so much more important, and I’ve worked so hard. I have a 4.0 in college! Can you believe that? Of course you can, you believed any of us could do anything no matter what.

Megan’s getting married in June. You’d love Josh. He’s the guy Megan needed to be her soul mate. He’s calmed her down just enough to where she’s not completely wild…but we’re all still scared to be the one who wakes her up in the mornings

Katie misses you and we cry together a lot. I know you wouldn’t want us crying over you, but it shows how much you mean to us. We don’t know what else to do sometimes, but cry. She’s been teaching Braiden a lot. She’s the reason he’s learning so much at such a young age.

Mama I think misses you more than any of us. She gets lost sometimes. When she talks to me I feel like no one could really make her feel better except for you. I know there are times when she just wants her daddy’s arms around her. Just like there are times when I just need my Papa’s arms around me.

Nana talks about you a lot. Danny’s living at home now, and I know you would love to be there for that. Even though you would have to sleep on the couch or with Nana and all her snoring glory I know you would love having him at home with you though. He loves Braiden and asks Nana “Where’s baby?” when he’s not there.

You’d be so proud of all of us. We all stick together and help each other financially, emotionally, and in every other way possible. We’re there for each other no matter what just like family is supposed to be.

I think what I miss most are your hugs. The ones where you squeezed too tight, and rubbed your whiskers against my cheek and you said “MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMHMMMMMM I love you” I always felt loved, safe, and cherished when you did that.

If my phone rings at 5pm I always wish I could look at the caller ID and see your number come up. Just to hear your voice….to hear you say “I love you baby, Bye” again. I took those phone calls for granted. I got used to them and just always thought they’d keep coming. After almost 6 years of missing that phone call I realize how stupid I was not to record every single one.

All of this because I found the sweater I wore at your funeral. I love you so much. I miss you even more than that.

I love you Papa,

Bye.

Forgiveness is so hard to do when you’ve been hurt….

So the past week has been a pretty rough one on me emotionally. While I had a great weekend spending time with friends (and even made a couple of new ones) My weekdays have been full of tears and heart break. 

 

My father sent me a text, as he randomly has since he told me I and my sisters we were no longer a priority in his life, that his new family came first and we would have to grow up and get over it. The text he sent me said “I love you and miss you very much”

 

For the last few weeks God has been working on my heart and telliing me to forgive. He’s been telling me to let go and be free of the pain. With that in mind I replied to my father’s text telling him that I love him and miss having a father in my life. I said “I forgive you for the things you said and did, but I’m not ready to put me or my son in the position to be hurt again. Just know that I love and forgive you.”

 

He said “What hurt would you be setting yourself up for? Me or Marie have never done anything to intentionally hurt you” I told him I didn’t want to fight, and I just wanted him to know he was forgiven and I have to give my heart time to make the decision to be in his life again. I’ve heard nothing else from him.

 

The pain of knowing that I’m not even good enough for my own father eats away at me all the time. It kills me to know that he’d rather be a father to his new kids, and a faithful husband to his new wife…What was wrong with us that he had to find something new and disgard us the way he did? And then why does he try to make us feel like its our fault that he did it? I thought by forgiving him I would feel so much better, but in the end it just felt like it hurt me more than holding onto my anger. The new hurt has caused reason for new forgiveness, and now I’m not sure I can give it to him.

 

Another heartbreak I’m facing is watching the woman who aborted the daughter I was going to adopt post pictures of her new born son…Saying how in love she is with her little boy, and how happy she is to be a mother. This woman who gave up her first daughter she had, aborted the second who had parents ready to love her when she came into the world, and now her third baby is a son and she loves him more than life itself. Almost exactly 4 years ago she was posting the graphic details of what the doctors did while they vaccummed that little girl’s fetal body out of her mothers womb. She posting a blog about the pain she went through and how alone she felt. I had to find out I wasn’t getting my daughter through a myspace blog that I was blocked from that a family member sent to me the minute she saw it posted. 

 

Now my newsfeed has pictures of her new born son that she loves so much, and I can’t help but think “How long before she gets tired of this one?” “What’s so different about him that he gets your love and the daughter who’s living with someone else, and the one who went to Heaven far too soon are no more than mistakes you say you made?” 

 

I’ve prayed, I’ve cried, I’ve completely broken down and I still don’t know how I’m going to forgive these two people. One walked out on me, the other gave me a precious gift and then took it from me in the most horrible way. 

 

There are people with bigger problems in the world I know. There’s wives sitting at home while their husbands fight a war. There’s people out of work who cannot feed their families. There’s mothers praying their babies are born healthy and happy. There’s children praying that their parents will remember they need them. There’s so many things I have to be thankful for, and I am so blessed for that. Even in all these blessings I can still feel the hurt that these two people caused, and without knowing it they keep rubbing salt in the wounds. 

 

I’m not asking for your prayers, because I know there are people who need them far more than I do. I can make a list of people I’m praying for instead of myself because their needs are far greater than this. I’m not asking for anything from anyone, I needed to get this out because there’s someone out there who knows what to say to me. I don’t know who it is but someone knows what to say to me, and there’s someone who needs to know they aren’t the only one with the problem of forgiving old hurts.