Kobi,
I've had a lot of people come up to me lately and say things like, "I bet you can't wait for a whole new year." I smile and say, "Yeah, 2017 wasn't great." But I don't mean that at all. Not the part where I said "2017 wasn't great." Because it really wasn't. It was the worst year of my life. I don't agree with the part that I am ready for a new year. While it was the year you were taken from me, it's at least a year you existed in. It's a year I have memories with you. It's a year where your life was celebrated and your death was included in every murder statistic of the year. You were taken in 2017, but you were also remembered.
I'm not ready for your murder to be old news. I'm not ready for the lack of events to celebrate your life. I'm not ready for your story to become an unsolved thing from the past that just gets filed away. I'm not ready to leave you behind. I'm not ready to start a new year that you won't get to exist in. A year that you will have never lived in. I'm not ready.
So please, don't talk to me about how great a new start or new year is going to be for me. Because I lost 2 people that I love dearly this year, and I don't know how to move on to a new year without them in it.
I miss you so very much. I love you even more than that.
Sissy
Wednesday, December 27, 2017
Sunday, November 19, 2017
Full Speed Ahead
Kobi,
I'm sitting up in bed playing on my computer, drinking a glass of wine, tears streaming down my face. I miss you. I feel like someone had their foot down to the floor on the accelerator because it doesn't seem possible it's already time for our first holiday season without you.
Yesterday, I was sitting on my couch drinking hot cocoa with the kids, watching "A Year Without A Santa Claus." Your movie. You had more Christmas movies than me, and I have kids. You loved Christmas. You loved watching the girls' faces light up when they walked out to see the presents and when they opened up their favorite gift. I always just loved having you here. I got you for a full 48 hours, and I loved every minute of it. I never thought you'd be an ornament on my tree. A memory we choke back tears talking about. I won't get to bake cookies and fudge to send home with you, and I should be on the phone with you about now talking about what time you are getting in on Wednesday. I never imagined this life for us, Kobi. I still regret not talking bout the what if's with you. Because I wish I knew how to cope now. I needed you. I still need you.
I'm trying to be fine. I'm trying hard because I know everyone thinks I have a timeline of grieving and then I have to cross over that imaginary sanity line. It's not that easy. I'm working through the stages in a whirlwind and at random. But no matter what, my head is still crowded with how. I don't think that's something you ever shake off. It's not something you learn to live with. You just try to push it to the back of your mind and try not to lose your mind completely when it surfaces. I keep picking out presents for you. It's hard not to shop for you. It was one of my favorite things. I loved making you smile. This year I get to bring you flowers to place by your head stone. Green Christmas lights around the base. And many, many of my tears. I keep hoping that every time I see another story about another murder or robbery that it's connected. That we've finally found your murderer. That I can finally tell this person what they did, because they don't really know what they took from this world.
They don't really know how incredibly broken I am.
I'm sitting up in bed playing on my computer, drinking a glass of wine, tears streaming down my face. I miss you. I feel like someone had their foot down to the floor on the accelerator because it doesn't seem possible it's already time for our first holiday season without you.
Yesterday, I was sitting on my couch drinking hot cocoa with the kids, watching "A Year Without A Santa Claus." Your movie. You had more Christmas movies than me, and I have kids. You loved Christmas. You loved watching the girls' faces light up when they walked out to see the presents and when they opened up their favorite gift. I always just loved having you here. I got you for a full 48 hours, and I loved every minute of it. I never thought you'd be an ornament on my tree. A memory we choke back tears talking about. I won't get to bake cookies and fudge to send home with you, and I should be on the phone with you about now talking about what time you are getting in on Wednesday. I never imagined this life for us, Kobi. I still regret not talking bout the what if's with you. Because I wish I knew how to cope now. I needed you. I still need you.
I'm trying to be fine. I'm trying hard because I know everyone thinks I have a timeline of grieving and then I have to cross over that imaginary sanity line. It's not that easy. I'm working through the stages in a whirlwind and at random. But no matter what, my head is still crowded with how. I don't think that's something you ever shake off. It's not something you learn to live with. You just try to push it to the back of your mind and try not to lose your mind completely when it surfaces. I keep picking out presents for you. It's hard not to shop for you. It was one of my favorite things. I loved making you smile. This year I get to bring you flowers to place by your head stone. Green Christmas lights around the base. And many, many of my tears. I keep hoping that every time I see another story about another murder or robbery that it's connected. That we've finally found your murderer. That I can finally tell this person what they did, because they don't really know what they took from this world.
They don't really know how incredibly broken I am.
The girls were really worried Christmas wasn't going to happen this year. So we went and bought a tree to put up. They like the colorful lights and I like the white, so we compromised and got one that does both. They were over the moon about it.
Of course, I had to add a touch of you. You kept this concert stub from the concert we went to together. I thought it would look better out instead of sitting in a box, and I added our picture.
We are always thinking of you and loving you. These next few weeks are going to be tough. Hold my hand.
I love you and miss you, every single second of every single day.
Sis
Monday, November 13, 2017
You Said You'd Be Okay
Kobi,
Sometimes I get mad at you. Yes, mad at you. I know that probably makes me a terrible person to get angry at a dead person. But I can't help it. I told you I was worried. I told you the crime rate was sky rocketing in Indy and that you should come closer to home. I told you that I needed you, and that meant you needed to be safe, always. But you brushed me off. You told me you would be okay and that the area you lived in was safe. I know you, and I know you didn't really think about it. You assumed you would be fine, and that the crime wouldn't find you. But it found you. They, found you. And you can't change the outcome, anymore than I can.
Sometimes I'm angry that you didn't out run them. You were fit, and fast. But I know you can't run faster than bullets. I know you held on for as long as you could. You fought hard to stay here for these girls. You gave it your all. I just wish I had fought harder to convince you to come home. I was worried that you would be too unhappy if you were further from your friends and your team. Yes, we were your world, but you needed them too. You were always very social, and it's what made you, you. I'm trying to forgive a lot of people in this situation. You'll have to be a little understanding, if one of those is also you.
I needed you. I still need you.
Love you,
Kay
Sometimes I get mad at you. Yes, mad at you. I know that probably makes me a terrible person to get angry at a dead person. But I can't help it. I told you I was worried. I told you the crime rate was sky rocketing in Indy and that you should come closer to home. I told you that I needed you, and that meant you needed to be safe, always. But you brushed me off. You told me you would be okay and that the area you lived in was safe. I know you, and I know you didn't really think about it. You assumed you would be fine, and that the crime wouldn't find you. But it found you. They, found you. And you can't change the outcome, anymore than I can.
Sometimes I'm angry that you didn't out run them. You were fit, and fast. But I know you can't run faster than bullets. I know you held on for as long as you could. You fought hard to stay here for these girls. You gave it your all. I just wish I had fought harder to convince you to come home. I was worried that you would be too unhappy if you were further from your friends and your team. Yes, we were your world, but you needed them too. You were always very social, and it's what made you, you. I'm trying to forgive a lot of people in this situation. You'll have to be a little understanding, if one of those is also you.
I needed you. I still need you.
Love you,
Kay
Saturday, November 11, 2017
They Aren't Broken
Kob,
It's been really hard to be a parent through all of this. It's been even harder to be a good parent. And there is a big difference. I've been doing my absolute best, but sometimes I yell about things I wouldn't normally yell about, and they very rarely have anything to do with what's actually happening in front of me. I'm not that angry about the kids shoving wrappers in their pretend oven. I'm not really that upset that they keep running around in a circle. It's me, directing it somewhere, and at anyone because it needs to get out. Somehow, someway.
These past couple weeks have been filled with parent teacher conferences for the girls. Yesterday, we went to the twins conference. It was filled with glowing reviews about how incredibly sweet, kind and well behaved your nieces are. They play well with others. They have great sense of humors, and they are on track with all of their skills. It's not at all what I was expecting. I got into the car and starting bawling. Casey asked me what was going on and I said, "I haven't broken them."
I have been so consumed with my grief that I was worried I had messed my kids up in some way. I could hear you saying, "Sweetie, you're a great, Mom. It's going to take a lot more than that to mess up all the great things you and Casey do for them." I hope so. I hope that all my sadness, frustrations and anger at your loss do not ruin them. I am trying to keep that from happening, but I miss you so badly.
I need my best friend. I need my sounding board. I need you.
I love and miss you more than you know.
Love,
Little Sis
It's been really hard to be a parent through all of this. It's been even harder to be a good parent. And there is a big difference. I've been doing my absolute best, but sometimes I yell about things I wouldn't normally yell about, and they very rarely have anything to do with what's actually happening in front of me. I'm not that angry about the kids shoving wrappers in their pretend oven. I'm not really that upset that they keep running around in a circle. It's me, directing it somewhere, and at anyone because it needs to get out. Somehow, someway.
These past couple weeks have been filled with parent teacher conferences for the girls. Yesterday, we went to the twins conference. It was filled with glowing reviews about how incredibly sweet, kind and well behaved your nieces are. They play well with others. They have great sense of humors, and they are on track with all of their skills. It's not at all what I was expecting. I got into the car and starting bawling. Casey asked me what was going on and I said, "I haven't broken them."
I have been so consumed with my grief that I was worried I had messed my kids up in some way. I could hear you saying, "Sweetie, you're a great, Mom. It's going to take a lot more than that to mess up all the great things you and Casey do for them." I hope so. I hope that all my sadness, frustrations and anger at your loss do not ruin them. I am trying to keep that from happening, but I miss you so badly.
I need my best friend. I need my sounding board. I need you.
I love and miss you more than you know.
Love,
Little Sis
Just Dreaming
Kobi,
Last night you were in my dreams. I woke up crying. It was all too much for me to take.
For the majority of the dream we were trying to find a way to revive you. We were running through the cemetery with all of our gear and equipment and reading books. We were trying everything we could to bring you back. Till someone said, is it really a good idea to bring someone back who is riddled with bullet holes? And for some reason, that made us stop. I then started to lead a raid on a house in Indianapolis filled with who I thought may have killed you. We ran through arresting several suspects, and then I punched one in the face.
After those 2, already consuming parts of my dream, I walked in to a concert, and you were standing there, I looked you up and down, remembering how you look perfectly, and I said, "You're still here?" You said "Yes"and you smiled that big smile of yours.
I woke up to Ally crying for me, I rolled away from Casey and cried as quietly as I could.
I wish I could bring you back. I wish I could walk up to anywhere and see you standing there. I wish this was all just a really bad dream. I ache to talk to you so very badly.
I love you Kobi Lee.
Sis
Last night you were in my dreams. I woke up crying. It was all too much for me to take.
For the majority of the dream we were trying to find a way to revive you. We were running through the cemetery with all of our gear and equipment and reading books. We were trying everything we could to bring you back. Till someone said, is it really a good idea to bring someone back who is riddled with bullet holes? And for some reason, that made us stop. I then started to lead a raid on a house in Indianapolis filled with who I thought may have killed you. We ran through arresting several suspects, and then I punched one in the face.
After those 2, already consuming parts of my dream, I walked in to a concert, and you were standing there, I looked you up and down, remembering how you look perfectly, and I said, "You're still here?" You said "Yes"and you smiled that big smile of yours.
I woke up to Ally crying for me, I rolled away from Casey and cried as quietly as I could.
I wish I could bring you back. I wish I could walk up to anywhere and see you standing there. I wish this was all just a really bad dream. I ache to talk to you so very badly.
I love you Kobi Lee.
Sis
Monday, November 6, 2017
Anger
My best friend,
I tried to call you again today. Every time I do this I feel a little more insane, a little more out of touch with reality. How crazy does one have to be to keep trying to call someone so obviously dead? But apparently I'm all kinds of crazy these days. Today, I was getting mad at a box because I kept trying to pull it out from underneath the bed to put more Christmas toys in it, and it just kept getting caught on the bottom of the bed. I got upset, and starting kicking the box. I thought I was angry at the box until I began sobbing and yelling, "It's not fair." I realized that it wasn't about this stupid box at all. It was all about you. Most of my emotions are these days. I'm emotional. I'm sad, I'm angry and I'm broken. I'm so incredibly broken. I hurt in places I didn't even know existed.
I know loss. I have lost a lot, we had lost a lot together. Losing someone to suicide isn't easy. All that guilt and pain. It's even harder when that loved one is your parent. That's a whole different kind of abandonment. That's an entirely different kind of hell. But losing someone to murder is a very different experience. Someone took you away from me and it didn't have to happen. You didn't make the choice. You didn't go on your own accord. You were scared. You suffered. It wasn't a car accident, or an illness. Your body didn't fail you. And some day, I'm going to have to truly believe that I didn't fail you either, but I'm not there yet.
I'm angry. Angrier than I ever thought possible. I didn't know I could be this mad. I have no where to focus it. Currently, I'm placing it in all the wrong places. But not even knowing who to be angry at, makes it hard to point it in the right direction. So for now, I'm angry that we are so lax in our gun laws that these thugs can just buy them on the streets. I'm angry that an apartment complex didn't have better security and lighting. I'm angry that I wasn't on the phone with you that night, of all nights. I'm angry that I don't get to have you in my life. I'm angry that my girls won't have you in their lives. I'm angry that I can't talk to you, when I need you the most. I'm angry that you aren't here, and you should be. I'm so incredibly angry.
You know, we had been texting and calling each other since we got our first cell phones in 2004. The year you went off to college and Mom wanted to make sure she could call you wherever you were. That's 13 years of calling you. 13 years of being able to pick up a phone and have you on the other line. 26 years of having you in my life. I don't think that habit is going to fade anytime soon. God, I never thought we'd be here. I thought I was just paranoid and worried because I was your sister, and that's what sisters do. How did we get here? I wish I knew.
Love you more than you know,
Your best friend
I tried to call you again today. Every time I do this I feel a little more insane, a little more out of touch with reality. How crazy does one have to be to keep trying to call someone so obviously dead? But apparently I'm all kinds of crazy these days. Today, I was getting mad at a box because I kept trying to pull it out from underneath the bed to put more Christmas toys in it, and it just kept getting caught on the bottom of the bed. I got upset, and starting kicking the box. I thought I was angry at the box until I began sobbing and yelling, "It's not fair." I realized that it wasn't about this stupid box at all. It was all about you. Most of my emotions are these days. I'm emotional. I'm sad, I'm angry and I'm broken. I'm so incredibly broken. I hurt in places I didn't even know existed.
I know loss. I have lost a lot, we had lost a lot together. Losing someone to suicide isn't easy. All that guilt and pain. It's even harder when that loved one is your parent. That's a whole different kind of abandonment. That's an entirely different kind of hell. But losing someone to murder is a very different experience. Someone took you away from me and it didn't have to happen. You didn't make the choice. You didn't go on your own accord. You were scared. You suffered. It wasn't a car accident, or an illness. Your body didn't fail you. And some day, I'm going to have to truly believe that I didn't fail you either, but I'm not there yet.
I'm angry. Angrier than I ever thought possible. I didn't know I could be this mad. I have no where to focus it. Currently, I'm placing it in all the wrong places. But not even knowing who to be angry at, makes it hard to point it in the right direction. So for now, I'm angry that we are so lax in our gun laws that these thugs can just buy them on the streets. I'm angry that an apartment complex didn't have better security and lighting. I'm angry that I wasn't on the phone with you that night, of all nights. I'm angry that I don't get to have you in my life. I'm angry that my girls won't have you in their lives. I'm angry that I can't talk to you, when I need you the most. I'm angry that you aren't here, and you should be. I'm so incredibly angry.
You know, we had been texting and calling each other since we got our first cell phones in 2004. The year you went off to college and Mom wanted to make sure she could call you wherever you were. That's 13 years of calling you. 13 years of being able to pick up a phone and have you on the other line. 26 years of having you in my life. I don't think that habit is going to fade anytime soon. God, I never thought we'd be here. I thought I was just paranoid and worried because I was your sister, and that's what sisters do. How did we get here? I wish I knew.
Love you more than you know,
Your best friend
Wednesday, November 1, 2017
6 months
Hey best friend,
I'm not even sure what is left to say. I miss you more than I could put into words. I love you more than I could put into words. I simply can't express the immense amount of grief I am in currently. To think that it's been half a year since I have spoken to you seems absolutely insane. I told someone the other day that it feels like I'm confused. You know, that feeling you get when you are legitimately confused about something? It usually only lasts a moment, but it's been 6 months for me. 6 months of wondering what is going on in my life. I'm in a haze. A constant, turbulent haze. I read the articles still. I look at your obituary. I go back to when I was standing in front of your casket just staring at you. I have to make it seem real. Because the other morning I woke up in the dead of night and grabbed my phone to call you. I needed to talk to you. I needed to make sure you were okay because I knew I hadn't talked to you in a while, but in that moment, I didn't know why.
I still look at my phone when it goes off and expect to see your name. I still expect to see you here on Thanksgiving and Christmas. I still expect to be able to call you when I'm so upset I can't even breathe. I have to repeat it when I say, "When Kobi died." or "Kobi's grave." Because it still seems like some awful nightmare I'm surviving. I don't want time to move forward. It can either move backwards, or it can just stop right here. Where it's been 6 months since I've talked to you and no longer.
I feel empty. Completely vacant. I want my life back. I want you to have your life back. I want you to not have been killed by one of the main things you feared. I want you to not have suffered. I want you to not have had those awful thoughts and images in your head before you died. I want things to be different. But they aren't. And I can't ever make them better. I can't make things better for you this time. I have to figure out how I'm suppose to live with that.
I love you,
Your best friend
I'm not even sure what is left to say. I miss you more than I could put into words. I love you more than I could put into words. I simply can't express the immense amount of grief I am in currently. To think that it's been half a year since I have spoken to you seems absolutely insane. I told someone the other day that it feels like I'm confused. You know, that feeling you get when you are legitimately confused about something? It usually only lasts a moment, but it's been 6 months for me. 6 months of wondering what is going on in my life. I'm in a haze. A constant, turbulent haze. I read the articles still. I look at your obituary. I go back to when I was standing in front of your casket just staring at you. I have to make it seem real. Because the other morning I woke up in the dead of night and grabbed my phone to call you. I needed to talk to you. I needed to make sure you were okay because I knew I hadn't talked to you in a while, but in that moment, I didn't know why.
I still look at my phone when it goes off and expect to see your name. I still expect to see you here on Thanksgiving and Christmas. I still expect to be able to call you when I'm so upset I can't even breathe. I have to repeat it when I say, "When Kobi died." or "Kobi's grave." Because it still seems like some awful nightmare I'm surviving. I don't want time to move forward. It can either move backwards, or it can just stop right here. Where it's been 6 months since I've talked to you and no longer.
I feel empty. Completely vacant. I want my life back. I want you to have your life back. I want you to not have been killed by one of the main things you feared. I want you to not have suffered. I want you to not have had those awful thoughts and images in your head before you died. I want things to be different. But they aren't. And I can't ever make them better. I can't make things better for you this time. I have to figure out how I'm suppose to live with that.
I love you,
Your best friend
Monday, October 30, 2017
Innocence Lost
Kobi,
Your nieces have changed. I use to sit and listen to them play, and they would only talk about horses, butterflies and regular family life. Now, what is left of my heart hurts when I listen to them. They talk about being afraid. They talk about bad people who might come and get them like they got you. They worry about the world around them in a way they never did before. They don't feel safe in their own home. They are afraid that the person who killed you, is coming to kill them, us. I wish I could tell them I'm not afraid too. I wish I could tell them not to be afraid, that I will always protect them from all the evil things this world may throw their way, but I can't.
I can't tell them that I'm not going to be murdered. I can't tell them that they will get to live their lives without being shot or raped. I can't tell them any of the things that I wish I could tell them. So instead, I tell them that I love them to the moon and back, and to the sun and back, like you told them, and then I tell them not to worry. But I do. Because bad men are shooting up schools. Bad men are shooting hundreds of people attending a concert. Movie theaters aren't safe, their schools aren't safe, even churches aren't safe. We live in a world where someone as kind and loving as you, was taken without rhyme or reason. And I can't take that away for them. I can't make it go away, as much as I wish that I could.
So while you are sending me your signs of love, if there is anyway for you to do so, please help your nieces feel safe. They miss you so much. I know you are always with them, but make sure they know too. They asked me today if you missed them, and I told them you did without any doubts. I need you around these next few days. Because 6 months ago today, I had no idea the next 72 hours would be the worst of my entire life. I love you so much it hurts, all the time. I miss you, Kobi.
Love you to the moon and back, and to the sun and back.
Sissy
Your nieces have changed. I use to sit and listen to them play, and they would only talk about horses, butterflies and regular family life. Now, what is left of my heart hurts when I listen to them. They talk about being afraid. They talk about bad people who might come and get them like they got you. They worry about the world around them in a way they never did before. They don't feel safe in their own home. They are afraid that the person who killed you, is coming to kill them, us. I wish I could tell them I'm not afraid too. I wish I could tell them not to be afraid, that I will always protect them from all the evil things this world may throw their way, but I can't.
I can't tell them that I'm not going to be murdered. I can't tell them that they will get to live their lives without being shot or raped. I can't tell them any of the things that I wish I could tell them. So instead, I tell them that I love them to the moon and back, and to the sun and back, like you told them, and then I tell them not to worry. But I do. Because bad men are shooting up schools. Bad men are shooting hundreds of people attending a concert. Movie theaters aren't safe, their schools aren't safe, even churches aren't safe. We live in a world where someone as kind and loving as you, was taken without rhyme or reason. And I can't take that away for them. I can't make it go away, as much as I wish that I could.
So while you are sending me your signs of love, if there is anyway for you to do so, please help your nieces feel safe. They miss you so much. I know you are always with them, but make sure they know too. They asked me today if you missed them, and I told them you did without any doubts. I need you around these next few days. Because 6 months ago today, I had no idea the next 72 hours would be the worst of my entire life. I love you so much it hurts, all the time. I miss you, Kobi.
Love you to the moon and back, and to the sun and back.
Sissy
Tuesday, October 17, 2017
Grief: In Pictures
Kobi Lee,
Many people think that grief is simple. They think it's tears, sadness, a longing for life that is now lost. It's that, but it's also so much more.
It's wanting to live because someone took your life and now I have to pretend I'm living life to the fullest since you don't get to.
But it's also wanting to lie on your grave and die too.
It's crying with my kids and holding their sobbing little bodies in my arms while trying to explain the impossible.
But it's also trying to smile and enjoy the moment because they deserve it.
It's crying on my bathroom floor and then turning around and seeing my friends while pretending that I'm fine.
It's drinks for two, me and you. But also because, I need 2 drinks to make it through this evening.
It's being a proud parent and smiling in the pure enjoyment of parenthood, but it's also the horrifying realization that you will never see another milestone of theirs.
It's hopelessness while pretending to be hopeful. Doing interview after interview to convince someone to call in a tip to help solve your murder.
It's smiling because the sun is out, and in the moment that the wind blows really hard and I'm thinking of you, that I believe that you are with me in that very moment.
It's all of this, and everything in between.
This is grief. And I'm just living in it.
We all miss you. All the time.
Here It Comes
Kobi,
There is a box up in my attic that will break my heart in just about 6 weeks. It has Christmas decorations in it, and somewhere in that box are stockings with everyone's name on them. With your name on one. I'm not sure how I'm going to survive the holidays this year. December has always been extra hard for us, and it took me many years to finally find some joy in it again. Christmas was Dad's favorite holiday, the 23rd is his birthday, and on the 27th it will be 13 years since we lost him. He would wake us up at the crack of dawn and funnel everyone out to the living room where our massive amount of Christmas presents would be. Every. Single. Year.
When you and I were kids we would get put into the bathroom while they brought in the presents they bought. We would sit in there and talk about what we thought we got. Then come Christmas Eve, I would always ask you if I could sleep up in your room. You never said no. I would ask you every 10 minutes, "Are you still awake?" I didn't want to be the only one who couldn't sleep on Christmas Eve. We would talk about tomorrow and come morning we'd be woke up by Dad saying, "Kobi, Kala, Santa was here!" We would run down the stairs and set our eyes upon the presents under the tree. It was usually around 5 am.
I have spent every single Christmas with you for 25 years. After Dad passed they were teary for a while, and then, I had Abby. Abby made us enjoy our favorite holiday again. Those girls breathed life back into us. They got mountains of toys and they slept in the same room when they got older and they got woken up by, me. I was too excited. I wanted to see their faces. I would wake you up before I woke them up and your head would pop right up. You were excited too. You would help us bring presents out and help me wrap and fill stockings. You were always there. Always. The girls haven't spent a single Christmas without you, or even without DeVon. He has a stocking too.
I am having the hardest time right now. I could pretend you got too busy and had to work on their birthday, although you always took it off. I could pretend we were all too strapped to go to the zoo on my birthday, and that you were too busy on your own. I can't, however, even remotely pretend that you would be anywhere else in the world, on Christmas. The Keurig we got you for Christmas last year is sitting in my house, and all the presents you got us are here too. I see them all the time. In fact, your very own ring is sitting on the elephant ring holder you got me.
I've only spent 2 Thanksgivings away from you. It just so happens that 1 of those was last year. Last year I went to Georgia with Casey's family, and the only time I spent it without you, was when we went to Georgia. Last year I almost didn't go. You were having a tough time, and then, while I was gone, Rho died. I felt guilty. I hated that you went through that while I was away. I spent over an hour on the phone with you and told you you could bury her at my house. I still feel bad that when we moved, we left your cat behind. I had thought about moving her out there, with you, but I could hear you saying "Ewwwww." in my head, and doing that little shiver thing you did, so I didn't. You're welcome.
We always made sure there were enough chairs at our table for the holidays. We always made sure there was a chair for you. When we moved we finally bought a new dining room table since ours was ancient. We bought an 8 seater, and when it was first moved into the new house, I stood in the doorway and stared at it. I imagined you sitting there, I imagined having our celebrations in that room. So now, we have 2 extra chairs in our home. I still had to make sure that we had room for you...
I love you. I miss you so much it hurts.
Sissy
There is a box up in my attic that will break my heart in just about 6 weeks. It has Christmas decorations in it, and somewhere in that box are stockings with everyone's name on them. With your name on one. I'm not sure how I'm going to survive the holidays this year. December has always been extra hard for us, and it took me many years to finally find some joy in it again. Christmas was Dad's favorite holiday, the 23rd is his birthday, and on the 27th it will be 13 years since we lost him. He would wake us up at the crack of dawn and funnel everyone out to the living room where our massive amount of Christmas presents would be. Every. Single. Year.
When you and I were kids we would get put into the bathroom while they brought in the presents they bought. We would sit in there and talk about what we thought we got. Then come Christmas Eve, I would always ask you if I could sleep up in your room. You never said no. I would ask you every 10 minutes, "Are you still awake?" I didn't want to be the only one who couldn't sleep on Christmas Eve. We would talk about tomorrow and come morning we'd be woke up by Dad saying, "Kobi, Kala, Santa was here!" We would run down the stairs and set our eyes upon the presents under the tree. It was usually around 5 am.
I have spent every single Christmas with you for 25 years. After Dad passed they were teary for a while, and then, I had Abby. Abby made us enjoy our favorite holiday again. Those girls breathed life back into us. They got mountains of toys and they slept in the same room when they got older and they got woken up by, me. I was too excited. I wanted to see their faces. I would wake you up before I woke them up and your head would pop right up. You were excited too. You would help us bring presents out and help me wrap and fill stockings. You were always there. Always. The girls haven't spent a single Christmas without you, or even without DeVon. He has a stocking too.
I am having the hardest time right now. I could pretend you got too busy and had to work on their birthday, although you always took it off. I could pretend we were all too strapped to go to the zoo on my birthday, and that you were too busy on your own. I can't, however, even remotely pretend that you would be anywhere else in the world, on Christmas. The Keurig we got you for Christmas last year is sitting in my house, and all the presents you got us are here too. I see them all the time. In fact, your very own ring is sitting on the elephant ring holder you got me.
I've only spent 2 Thanksgivings away from you. It just so happens that 1 of those was last year. Last year I went to Georgia with Casey's family, and the only time I spent it without you, was when we went to Georgia. Last year I almost didn't go. You were having a tough time, and then, while I was gone, Rho died. I felt guilty. I hated that you went through that while I was away. I spent over an hour on the phone with you and told you you could bury her at my house. I still feel bad that when we moved, we left your cat behind. I had thought about moving her out there, with you, but I could hear you saying "Ewwwww." in my head, and doing that little shiver thing you did, so I didn't. You're welcome.
We always made sure there were enough chairs at our table for the holidays. We always made sure there was a chair for you. When we moved we finally bought a new dining room table since ours was ancient. We bought an 8 seater, and when it was first moved into the new house, I stood in the doorway and stared at it. I imagined you sitting there, I imagined having our celebrations in that room. So now, we have 2 extra chairs in our home. I still had to make sure that we had room for you...
I love you. I miss you so much it hurts.
Sissy
Tuesday, October 10, 2017
Everything Has Changed
Kobi,
When you died, I knew that things wouldn't be the same. I also knew, I couldn't let them be the same. If you were going to be gone, things had to be different. I couldn't walk in my front door that you walked through many times before. I couldn't sit on the floor of my living room that we opened presents on for many years before. I simply couldn't.
But mostly, I couldn't stare at that spot where my friend held me as I sobbed while waiting for Casey to get home from work after I found out it was you. I couldn't stand in the spot in front of my kitchen counter where I opened up the website that had a picture of your apartment complex with "Body Found" on the front page. I couldn't sleep in my bed, by the spot where I doubled over and screamed when they said, "The deceased does have those characteristics." Like you were some lost pet I was describing. I couldn't do these things. I didn't have it in me to just remember the good. I was too traumatized. I was in too much pain.
So after I identified your body, after I viewed you in your casket, after I drove away from you for the last time you were above ground, I started looking. I looked for a new home for my family. I looked for a safe home. Somewhere that you hadn't stepped foot in, somewhere that possible suspects wouldn't know where we were. And I found one. Buying a new home in a new school district meant that we would be leaving our friends, neighbors, and everything we had come to know. It was scary, and frightening. The girls had friends there, I loved their teachers, I loved my friends, and I loved being a Girl Scout leader to my troop, but most of all, I loved you.
I thought about it long and hard. If it was the right move for the girls. If uprooting everything they knew would do more damage than their hearts had already experienced, but then I thought back to my own experiences. I was the girl whose father completed suicide. Feeling like that title and that trauma haunted me in every classroom and everything I ever did. I didn't want my girls to be the girls whose uncle was murdered. And in the tiny town that we lived in, that's exactly who they would have been. Rather or not they meant it maliciously wouldn't have mattered. It would have been a scar for the world to see. It also would have been hard walking into a school that you and I grew up in. Existing under a roof you once existed under. Seeing both of our classmates in the hallway and your nieces playing with their kids. Trying to forget playing on the playground with you so I can be strong and celebrate my kids accomplishments. It was all too much for me, and I didn't want it all to be too much for them.
So we packed up our stuff, and your stuff, and we moved over a county, to a new district, a new neighborhood, an entirely new life. I have lost a lot in the past 5 months. None of them even compare to the scar of losing you, but all of it added together has been a lot to adjust to. My life is entirely different from what it was 5 months ago, in several different ways. But you are the biggest missing piece, a piece of my border. The piece that makes me, me. I don't even know who I am anymore, and it isn't because of my location, so much of me was you.
Our daily conversations, the way I thought, the way I acted, everything I did in some way, had to do with you. I told you about everything, the big, small, bad, good, and the ugly, even the really ugly. Now all of that conversation, all of that friendship is gone. It's an empty void in my life. It's there in the mornings when I would be on the phone with you while driving, on my lunch breaks when I needed you to convince me that I don't suck at being a mother or my job, during my drive home when I would call you to tell you all about my day, and in the evenings, when Casey was at work and I needed adult conversation, and you needed to vent. I worried about you constantly, too. The silence of all the space you use to take up, is more painful than I can describe. It pushes me to tears, to the floor, and into a depression unlike I've ever known before.
Everything in my life has changed, and it isn't for the better. I miss you, and love you so very much.
Sissy
When you died, I knew that things wouldn't be the same. I also knew, I couldn't let them be the same. If you were going to be gone, things had to be different. I couldn't walk in my front door that you walked through many times before. I couldn't sit on the floor of my living room that we opened presents on for many years before. I simply couldn't.
But mostly, I couldn't stare at that spot where my friend held me as I sobbed while waiting for Casey to get home from work after I found out it was you. I couldn't stand in the spot in front of my kitchen counter where I opened up the website that had a picture of your apartment complex with "Body Found" on the front page. I couldn't sleep in my bed, by the spot where I doubled over and screamed when they said, "The deceased does have those characteristics." Like you were some lost pet I was describing. I couldn't do these things. I didn't have it in me to just remember the good. I was too traumatized. I was in too much pain.
So after I identified your body, after I viewed you in your casket, after I drove away from you for the last time you were above ground, I started looking. I looked for a new home for my family. I looked for a safe home. Somewhere that you hadn't stepped foot in, somewhere that possible suspects wouldn't know where we were. And I found one. Buying a new home in a new school district meant that we would be leaving our friends, neighbors, and everything we had come to know. It was scary, and frightening. The girls had friends there, I loved their teachers, I loved my friends, and I loved being a Girl Scout leader to my troop, but most of all, I loved you.
I thought about it long and hard. If it was the right move for the girls. If uprooting everything they knew would do more damage than their hearts had already experienced, but then I thought back to my own experiences. I was the girl whose father completed suicide. Feeling like that title and that trauma haunted me in every classroom and everything I ever did. I didn't want my girls to be the girls whose uncle was murdered. And in the tiny town that we lived in, that's exactly who they would have been. Rather or not they meant it maliciously wouldn't have mattered. It would have been a scar for the world to see. It also would have been hard walking into a school that you and I grew up in. Existing under a roof you once existed under. Seeing both of our classmates in the hallway and your nieces playing with their kids. Trying to forget playing on the playground with you so I can be strong and celebrate my kids accomplishments. It was all too much for me, and I didn't want it all to be too much for them.
So we packed up our stuff, and your stuff, and we moved over a county, to a new district, a new neighborhood, an entirely new life. I have lost a lot in the past 5 months. None of them even compare to the scar of losing you, but all of it added together has been a lot to adjust to. My life is entirely different from what it was 5 months ago, in several different ways. But you are the biggest missing piece, a piece of my border. The piece that makes me, me. I don't even know who I am anymore, and it isn't because of my location, so much of me was you.
Our daily conversations, the way I thought, the way I acted, everything I did in some way, had to do with you. I told you about everything, the big, small, bad, good, and the ugly, even the really ugly. Now all of that conversation, all of that friendship is gone. It's an empty void in my life. It's there in the mornings when I would be on the phone with you while driving, on my lunch breaks when I needed you to convince me that I don't suck at being a mother or my job, during my drive home when I would call you to tell you all about my day, and in the evenings, when Casey was at work and I needed adult conversation, and you needed to vent. I worried about you constantly, too. The silence of all the space you use to take up, is more painful than I can describe. It pushes me to tears, to the floor, and into a depression unlike I've ever known before.
Everything in my life has changed, and it isn't for the better. I miss you, and love you so very much.
Sissy
Sunday, October 8, 2017
Next to You
Kobi,
I was going through pictures the other day, and I noticed something I hadn't before. In almost every picture that we are in together, we are right beside each other, or close together. Even in photos of us walking, we are usually walking side by side. I have always gravitated toward you. It's always where I've wanted to be.
You were bouncing around the idea of moving back to Indiana when you lived in Ohio. You were at my house at the time, and I told you, "I wish you would come back home. I always feel better when you are around, more at ease, and my anxiety is much better. I love it when you are here." It wasn't long after that you told me you guys were moving back to Indy. You said you had gotten a better job offer, but I know it was partially because at the time, I was unraveling emotionally. I've battled with severe anxiety my entire life. I remember being terrified of even the smallest things when I was kid, and I've always over thought everything. You've always been around to talk me down.
I've always known what it was like to lose family. To be expecting them at events and having them be absent because their time was up before you were ready. I always told Casey that if something ever happened to you, that it would be really, really bad. Not just because you were my brother, but because you were my person. I lost the person I expect to see at family gatherings, but I also lost the person I would call at 7 am because some car just cut in front of me and really ticked me off. A phone call like that from one another, wouldn't have surprised us one bit. And we both would have said that person was a jerk. I lost the person I would walk through fire for. The person who would do the same for me. I lost 2 in one. But I also lost the main support system I had for my girls. The girls who had their 5th birthday party on Saturday and instead of having a happy Mom had a sobbing, hiding in the bathroom Mom. A Mom I never wanted to be.
I'm still trying to adjust, and now that the shock has worn off, I feel myself falling into a deep depression. I don't want to go anywhere. I don't want to talk to anyone. I want to stay in my bubble and let the rest of the world fall away. I know I need my people, but right now, all I want is you.
Sometimes I still look to my side and expect to see you there. Talking to me, playing on your phone, laughing, existing. I miss you more than I could ever put into words. I love you so very much.
I was going through pictures the other day, and I noticed something I hadn't before. In almost every picture that we are in together, we are right beside each other, or close together. Even in photos of us walking, we are usually walking side by side. I have always gravitated toward you. It's always where I've wanted to be.
You were bouncing around the idea of moving back to Indiana when you lived in Ohio. You were at my house at the time, and I told you, "I wish you would come back home. I always feel better when you are around, more at ease, and my anxiety is much better. I love it when you are here." It wasn't long after that you told me you guys were moving back to Indy. You said you had gotten a better job offer, but I know it was partially because at the time, I was unraveling emotionally. I've battled with severe anxiety my entire life. I remember being terrified of even the smallest things when I was kid, and I've always over thought everything. You've always been around to talk me down.
I've always known what it was like to lose family. To be expecting them at events and having them be absent because their time was up before you were ready. I always told Casey that if something ever happened to you, that it would be really, really bad. Not just because you were my brother, but because you were my person. I lost the person I expect to see at family gatherings, but I also lost the person I would call at 7 am because some car just cut in front of me and really ticked me off. A phone call like that from one another, wouldn't have surprised us one bit. And we both would have said that person was a jerk. I lost the person I would walk through fire for. The person who would do the same for me. I lost 2 in one. But I also lost the main support system I had for my girls. The girls who had their 5th birthday party on Saturday and instead of having a happy Mom had a sobbing, hiding in the bathroom Mom. A Mom I never wanted to be.
I'm still trying to adjust, and now that the shock has worn off, I feel myself falling into a deep depression. I don't want to go anywhere. I don't want to talk to anyone. I want to stay in my bubble and let the rest of the world fall away. I know I need my people, but right now, all I want is you.
Sometimes I still look to my side and expect to see you there. Talking to me, playing on your phone, laughing, existing. I miss you more than I could ever put into words. I love you so very much.
Tuesday, September 19, 2017
Touched
Kobi,
I knew the day of your viewing that it was going to be the hardest thing I've ever done(aside from identifying you), to see you in your casket. I knew I would lose it. And I did. I collapsed before I even made it to your side. I sobbed, and then I ran out yelling. I was screaming about how incredibly pissed off I was. Because I was, and I am. I threw up on a tree, took some deep breaths, and knew I had to go back in there. I walked slowly up to you, towards your feet, I wasn't ready to be that close to you.
I stood there at the end of your feet for what felt like forever. I stared at you, in shock, for quite a while. Casey holding me from behind, and I'm pretty sure keeping me upright. I looked at your face, coated heavily in make up. Your hands, with no black nail polish for the first time in a long time. Your uniform. Your hat. Your beard that was darker than usual. You lacked your usual color. You looked like you, but I noticed every difference. Every difference from when you were living.
However, I couldn't touch you. I eventually stood up by your head, but I never once touched you. I remember when I decided I couldn't. I put your lightsaber in, next to you. When I dropped it in, I saw it hit your arm. Your arm didn't budge. My heart sunk. And when I put in the picture of the girls, I reached over you, saying in my head the entire time, "Please don't touch him, please don't touch him." I was barely breathing then. Somedays, I'm still barely breathing.
I wanted to hold your hand. I wanted to kiss you on the cheek. I wanted to comfort you. And I regret it all the time that I couldn't do that for you. I wanted to be stronger. I wanted to hold you and tell you that you are safe now. That I won't let anyone hurt you anymore. I'm so very sorry, Bubby.
The last time I touched you was on Easter. You had just said goodbye to the girls and given them all hugs and kisses, I just told them to go to bed. I asked you if you had everything. I told you to let me know when. you made it home safely. I kissed you and then we hugged, and I remember my hand running across your back in a comforting motion. We said we loved each other, and as you were walking out of my door, I told you to be careful and you said you would. I watched you get into your car and drive away. I wanted that to be the last time I ever laid my hands on you. When I could feel you breathing. When your arms were wrapped around me too. I hope you can understand that I wanted to remember you that way instead.
I love you so much. I miss you.
Sissy
I knew the day of your viewing that it was going to be the hardest thing I've ever done(aside from identifying you), to see you in your casket. I knew I would lose it. And I did. I collapsed before I even made it to your side. I sobbed, and then I ran out yelling. I was screaming about how incredibly pissed off I was. Because I was, and I am. I threw up on a tree, took some deep breaths, and knew I had to go back in there. I walked slowly up to you, towards your feet, I wasn't ready to be that close to you.
I stood there at the end of your feet for what felt like forever. I stared at you, in shock, for quite a while. Casey holding me from behind, and I'm pretty sure keeping me upright. I looked at your face, coated heavily in make up. Your hands, with no black nail polish for the first time in a long time. Your uniform. Your hat. Your beard that was darker than usual. You lacked your usual color. You looked like you, but I noticed every difference. Every difference from when you were living.
However, I couldn't touch you. I eventually stood up by your head, but I never once touched you. I remember when I decided I couldn't. I put your lightsaber in, next to you. When I dropped it in, I saw it hit your arm. Your arm didn't budge. My heart sunk. And when I put in the picture of the girls, I reached over you, saying in my head the entire time, "Please don't touch him, please don't touch him." I was barely breathing then. Somedays, I'm still barely breathing.
I wanted to hold your hand. I wanted to kiss you on the cheek. I wanted to comfort you. And I regret it all the time that I couldn't do that for you. I wanted to be stronger. I wanted to hold you and tell you that you are safe now. That I won't let anyone hurt you anymore. I'm so very sorry, Bubby.
The last time I touched you was on Easter. You had just said goodbye to the girls and given them all hugs and kisses, I just told them to go to bed. I asked you if you had everything. I told you to let me know when. you made it home safely. I kissed you and then we hugged, and I remember my hand running across your back in a comforting motion. We said we loved each other, and as you were walking out of my door, I told you to be careful and you said you would. I watched you get into your car and drive away. I wanted that to be the last time I ever laid my hands on you. When I could feel you breathing. When your arms were wrapped around me too. I hope you can understand that I wanted to remember you that way instead.
I love you so much. I miss you.
Sissy
Wednesday, September 13, 2017
Remembering You
Bubby,
Right now the kids are sitting on the couch watching tv, eating snacks and for the most part, behaving. It's raining outside and I just made a cup of tea.
I'm missing you something awful today, but really, that's every day.
I'm all out of words because I think I've used them all to describe how much I miss you, and how much I love you. And even the words I have used, do not even scratch the surface.
I often feel Mom guilt because I know that my grief gets in the way of my parenting. I know that I'm not the Mom I once was. The Mom you loved and were so proud of.
But today, in this very moment, my children are fine. And I am not. So I'm going to take my tea, and sit in my sunroom, listen to the rain hit the roof and give myself some time to miss you. Guilt free.
I can't wait to imagine your face, your laugh and what your hugs felt like. I can't wait to relive all of our beautiful memories together. I promise I will do my best to laugh through the tears. Meet me there...
Love and missing you as always,
Sis
Right now the kids are sitting on the couch watching tv, eating snacks and for the most part, behaving. It's raining outside and I just made a cup of tea.
I'm missing you something awful today, but really, that's every day.
I'm all out of words because I think I've used them all to describe how much I miss you, and how much I love you. And even the words I have used, do not even scratch the surface.
I often feel Mom guilt because I know that my grief gets in the way of my parenting. I know that I'm not the Mom I once was. The Mom you loved and were so proud of.
But today, in this very moment, my children are fine. And I am not. So I'm going to take my tea, and sit in my sunroom, listen to the rain hit the roof and give myself some time to miss you. Guilt free.
I can't wait to imagine your face, your laugh and what your hugs felt like. I can't wait to relive all of our beautiful memories together. I promise I will do my best to laugh through the tears. Meet me there...
Love and missing you as always,
Sis
Monday, September 11, 2017
There is No Peace
Kobi,
Running use to be my happy place. A place I could escape my problems. A place I could leave all my problems behind and out run them. So of course I thought running would be good for me. I thought it could be good for me to get out my anger and frustrations and leave them behind. However, when I stepped on the treadmill today, something very different happened. I ran harder and faster then I ever have. I ran so hard I had an asthma attack, on top of my panic attack. I was getting tired, and then I got angry at myself. I thought, if you could run as far as you did, with bullets in the backs of your legs, then I could run and run and run. I imagined you running from the front of your building, to the back of your building being shot at, scared and with your broken leg, still running. So I ran until my lungs wouldn't let me anymore.
My happy places are no longer happy. My favorite things were your favorite things. My favorite things haunt me. You, haunt me. Going to the morgue, haunts me. Walking through the funeral home picking out your casket and your vault, haunts me. Seeing your name in stone, haunts me. Part of me is smart enough to know this is my PTSD talking. This will get better like it has before. I will some day have a clear head again. Some day. But that feels so far away. I need it to come sooner, rather than later. But I know my limits, and I know how much I love you, and I realize this is going to be an incredibly long and difficult process. I know there is no skipping steps, and my heart wouldn't let me if I tried.
These thoughts are invading. They are infecting me with a sickness that I can't shake. Tearing me from what little sanity I have left. Taking a step back didn't help. I'm trying to take a step forward into a busy life that hopefully leaves me less time to freak out. The only problem is, I always talked to you when driving. So that absence and emptiness is felt there too. I just need to talk to you. I need to ask you how I should do this. How should I do this, Kobi? We said this would be bad, but holy crap. We could have never imagined this. This early, this horrific, this way. You would tell me I can't dwell on this. I can't torture myself this way because it will eat me alive. I know it, but I can't stop it. It's like seeing a car accident happening but you can't do anything to prevent it.
I want to go back and see you. I want to go back to when my life made sense. I want that brief moment of peace and comfort back that I had in that dream. The one where I walk into my house and you are sitting on my couch and I tackle you. I wrap my arms around you and I don't let go. I want to wrap my arms around you and tell you how much I love you, how much I need you. I want you back. There is nothing else more profound that I could say than that. I want you back. I want my life back and I want you to have yours back.
I love you. And I miss you so freaking much.
Sissy
Running use to be my happy place. A place I could escape my problems. A place I could leave all my problems behind and out run them. So of course I thought running would be good for me. I thought it could be good for me to get out my anger and frustrations and leave them behind. However, when I stepped on the treadmill today, something very different happened. I ran harder and faster then I ever have. I ran so hard I had an asthma attack, on top of my panic attack. I was getting tired, and then I got angry at myself. I thought, if you could run as far as you did, with bullets in the backs of your legs, then I could run and run and run. I imagined you running from the front of your building, to the back of your building being shot at, scared and with your broken leg, still running. So I ran until my lungs wouldn't let me anymore.
My happy places are no longer happy. My favorite things were your favorite things. My favorite things haunt me. You, haunt me. Going to the morgue, haunts me. Walking through the funeral home picking out your casket and your vault, haunts me. Seeing your name in stone, haunts me. Part of me is smart enough to know this is my PTSD talking. This will get better like it has before. I will some day have a clear head again. Some day. But that feels so far away. I need it to come sooner, rather than later. But I know my limits, and I know how much I love you, and I realize this is going to be an incredibly long and difficult process. I know there is no skipping steps, and my heart wouldn't let me if I tried.
These thoughts are invading. They are infecting me with a sickness that I can't shake. Tearing me from what little sanity I have left. Taking a step back didn't help. I'm trying to take a step forward into a busy life that hopefully leaves me less time to freak out. The only problem is, I always talked to you when driving. So that absence and emptiness is felt there too. I just need to talk to you. I need to ask you how I should do this. How should I do this, Kobi? We said this would be bad, but holy crap. We could have never imagined this. This early, this horrific, this way. You would tell me I can't dwell on this. I can't torture myself this way because it will eat me alive. I know it, but I can't stop it. It's like seeing a car accident happening but you can't do anything to prevent it.
I want to go back and see you. I want to go back to when my life made sense. I want that brief moment of peace and comfort back that I had in that dream. The one where I walk into my house and you are sitting on my couch and I tackle you. I wrap my arms around you and I don't let go. I want to wrap my arms around you and tell you how much I love you, how much I need you. I want you back. There is nothing else more profound that I could say than that. I want you back. I want my life back and I want you to have yours back.
I love you. And I miss you so freaking much.
Sissy
Sunday, August 20, 2017
Seeing You
Kobi,
I can't walk into a room in this house without seeing you in it.
You are your coffee mugs hanging on the wall in my kitchen.
You are the memorial candle and blanket, pictures and Rebels awards in my living room.
You are the picture beside my bed, the DS in my drawer, and your shirts in my closet.
You are the pictures of the girls on the play room wall, the pictures that once hung in your house.
You are the Scentsy warmer on my desk, that was suppose to be yours.
You are the books on my book shelf that we use to spend hours talking about.
You are the empty chair at our dining room table.
You are the cat sleeping on my lap, the cat that use to be yours.
You are the tears your nieces cry for you, and also their smiles when they think about the memories with you.
You are the bracelet on my wrist, and your words forever inked on my arm.
You are the love in this house.
You are my heart, always and forever.
I love you so very much. I'm grateful to have you everywhere, even when it hurts.
Miss you
Sis
I can't walk into a room in this house without seeing you in it.
You are your coffee mugs hanging on the wall in my kitchen.
You are the memorial candle and blanket, pictures and Rebels awards in my living room.
You are the picture beside my bed, the DS in my drawer, and your shirts in my closet.
You are the pictures of the girls on the play room wall, the pictures that once hung in your house.
You are the Scentsy warmer on my desk, that was suppose to be yours.
You are the books on my book shelf that we use to spend hours talking about.
You are the empty chair at our dining room table.
You are the cat sleeping on my lap, the cat that use to be yours.
You are the tears your nieces cry for you, and also their smiles when they think about the memories with you.
You are the bracelet on my wrist, and your words forever inked on my arm.
You are the love in this house.
You are my heart, always and forever.
I love you so very much. I'm grateful to have you everywhere, even when it hurts.
Miss you
Sis
Friday, August 18, 2017
Loved
Kobi,
I've grown scared of being out at night, getting out of my car without people around, sitting in my car for any length of time and being in bigger towns. Much like after Dad committed suicide and I became terrified that every sad person would kill themselves. I began worrying about ending arguments with loved ones or seeing them heading down a dark road. A little over a year before your death, you were in a dark place, you were depressed.
I would tell you, "Don't do anything stupid, I need you ya know." You would respond with, "I won't, I know I'm loved."
I'm so glad you knew you were loved. I'm so glad that even when it would have been easier to check out of your own life, you stayed knowing you were important to your loved ones, you stayed because you were loved, because I think you always knew, losing you would destroy me. You fought for your life, you ran to stay alive. I know you did this for Mom, your nieces and I know you did it for me.
I'm still running, Kobi. I'm running from who did this too. They are trying to take me with you, even if they don't know it yet. I'm running for Mom, my girls, Casey, and most of all, I'm running for you. I don't have to physically see you, to know you still love me. I know, Bub, I know. So I'm going to keep running, because I know I'm loved.
I love you, always have and I always will.
Sis
Wednesday, August 16, 2017
Spilled Milk
Kobi,
You've heard the saying, "No use crying over spilled milk." Well, today, there was. The weekend that I helped you move was a crazy weekend. We got to your house Friday evening and Casey and I helped you move all the big furniture well into the night into your new apartment. You were stressed about the move, but you were so hopeful and excited to see what new scenery could do for you. After a bad break up, this was the right move for you, of that, I had no doubts(at the time, anyway). I loved hearing you talk about your bright, bright future. All the plans you had for yourself, your team, and us. I loved it! I always wanted the best for you.
Saturday, the night after we moved your big items, I got up at 5 am because I knew you were freaking about not being moved on time. I wanted to get there bright and early to help you finish. On my way there I remembered you being worried about not having enough groceries to get you through the week, so I knew I needed to stop by Walmart and pick some up for you. I grabbed all of your favorites, chocolate syrup, milk, cheese pizza, even bought stuff for grilled cheese and tomato soup and told you that you needed to make yourself an actual meal. When I got to your apartment, I told you I had some stuff for you and opened the back of my jeep, that's when an entire gallon of milk fell out of the jeep and splattered everywhere! All over me, all over the ground, and all over my jeep. I wanted to cry out of frustration, but instead, we both laughed.
I spent that entire day helping you get settled into your apartment until you had to go to work, and then I stayed over after you left for work and put away your coffee mugs, made sure your Keurig was put together and working, I checked on the animals, and made sure Sammy was doing okay. I cleaned your couch and looked around at what would hopefully be a fresh start for you. How could I have ever known that would be the last time I would see your apartment before it would become this dark place for the both of us? I didn't. You said, "1485 is perfect. It's almost my birthday numbers. It's like it was meant to be." I hope this wasn't meant to be. I hope it was just some horrible thing that just happened, because trying to think of this entire thing being meant to be makes me sick to my stomach. So today, when I went out to get the table out of the jeep that we used for your graveside birthday celebration, I saw what was left of a splatter mark from the milk that was meant for you. Instead of laughing about it today, I cried.
I was not thrilled about spending a Saturday moving heavy objects when I really wanted to be at home resting from my crazy week of clinical and parenting. But now, I'm so glad I got to spend that entire day with you. We talked, we laughed, and we just got to be together. I wouldn't trade it for the world. I wouldn't trade you for the world. Even with the pain that I'm in now. And believe me, it's a massive amount of pain. I'm still trying to keep moving forward, for you, for these girls, for the hope that I will some day be able to stand in front of the person who did this to you, and ask them the one question that haunts me every single second of every day, "Why?"
I hope you enjoyed your birthday celebration, I barely survived it. I miss you so freaking bad.
Love always,
Sis
You've heard the saying, "No use crying over spilled milk." Well, today, there was. The weekend that I helped you move was a crazy weekend. We got to your house Friday evening and Casey and I helped you move all the big furniture well into the night into your new apartment. You were stressed about the move, but you were so hopeful and excited to see what new scenery could do for you. After a bad break up, this was the right move for you, of that, I had no doubts(at the time, anyway). I loved hearing you talk about your bright, bright future. All the plans you had for yourself, your team, and us. I loved it! I always wanted the best for you.
Saturday, the night after we moved your big items, I got up at 5 am because I knew you were freaking about not being moved on time. I wanted to get there bright and early to help you finish. On my way there I remembered you being worried about not having enough groceries to get you through the week, so I knew I needed to stop by Walmart and pick some up for you. I grabbed all of your favorites, chocolate syrup, milk, cheese pizza, even bought stuff for grilled cheese and tomato soup and told you that you needed to make yourself an actual meal. When I got to your apartment, I told you I had some stuff for you and opened the back of my jeep, that's when an entire gallon of milk fell out of the jeep and splattered everywhere! All over me, all over the ground, and all over my jeep. I wanted to cry out of frustration, but instead, we both laughed.
I spent that entire day helping you get settled into your apartment until you had to go to work, and then I stayed over after you left for work and put away your coffee mugs, made sure your Keurig was put together and working, I checked on the animals, and made sure Sammy was doing okay. I cleaned your couch and looked around at what would hopefully be a fresh start for you. How could I have ever known that would be the last time I would see your apartment before it would become this dark place for the both of us? I didn't. You said, "1485 is perfect. It's almost my birthday numbers. It's like it was meant to be." I hope this wasn't meant to be. I hope it was just some horrible thing that just happened, because trying to think of this entire thing being meant to be makes me sick to my stomach. So today, when I went out to get the table out of the jeep that we used for your graveside birthday celebration, I saw what was left of a splatter mark from the milk that was meant for you. Instead of laughing about it today, I cried.
I was not thrilled about spending a Saturday moving heavy objects when I really wanted to be at home resting from my crazy week of clinical and parenting. But now, I'm so glad I got to spend that entire day with you. We talked, we laughed, and we just got to be together. I wouldn't trade it for the world. I wouldn't trade you for the world. Even with the pain that I'm in now. And believe me, it's a massive amount of pain. I'm still trying to keep moving forward, for you, for these girls, for the hope that I will some day be able to stand in front of the person who did this to you, and ask them the one question that haunts me every single second of every day, "Why?"
I hope you enjoyed your birthday celebration, I barely survived it. I miss you so freaking bad.
Love always,
Sis
Tuesday, August 8, 2017
Birthdays
Kobi,
Your niece is two now. She turned 2 and you weren't here to see it. You won't be here to celebrate with us on Saturday either. I don't even know that I will be here to celebrate it on Saturday. I will probably be some place else in my head. I'm trying to do this parenting thing right. The only way to give them the life we didn't have is for me to be healthy. How do I be healthy mentally with all of this? I'm trying hard, but the tears keep flowing, the anger keeps seeping out and the fear is eating me alive.
On top of Ally's birthday, your birthday is coming up. How do we do this? How do we celebrate this day without you? You'd want me to. You have always made a big deal about your birthday, and I can do nothing less. It is a big deal, and it's an even bigger deal that someone took you away so you don't even get to celebrate it. I'm angry. I'm frustrated and sad. I'm more broken than I can describe to you. So broken.
I keep saying when I'm crying, "How are you dead?" "I want my best friend back." "I just want this pain to end." I don't know what else to say. I don't know what else to do.
We take the girls to your grave for the first time this week. Your stone should be up any day now and I know I need to finally show the girls where you are now. I need to answer at least some of their questions. They want answers, Kobi. Like I want answers. But I can't give them all the answers they seek. I can't break their little hearts again and shatter their innocent view on this heartless world. I can't do it. But this, this I can do. I can show them where your body is now. I can cry with them and give them a moment to grieve. I can do that. It won't be easy, but I can do it, for them, for you.
Stay close, Bub. I think some of the shock is wearing off and it's not good.
I love you so much.
Sis
Tuesday, July 25, 2017
You Hurt, I Hurt
Kobi
Something I've never told you is that when you would cry on the phone, I would hold it together for you and help you through, but when we would hang up, I would sob. I would cry because you were hurting and when you hurt, I hurt. Seeing you having a hard time always broke my heart. You always deserved better than this life gave you.
I would tell you that I hated to see you sad. But I truly don't think you understood the magnitude of it. Or maybe you did. Maybe you never told me that when I would cry on the phone, you cried too. Maybe we really did feel the same. Because your pain always caused me to feel nauseous, and pained. I would always do anything I could to cheer you up.
I've heard some of your friends call some of the unfortunate circumstances in your life, "Kobi luck." I thought about that for a while and I couldn't agree more. It did seem that things often went awry for you, although lately, I'm feeling that we both have that luck, or lack there of. I also have heard many say that you were the happiest person they ever met. How awesome is it that your friends knew you had a tough time with things, but they saw you persevere right through it. They saw you extending your hand to others and you sharing your smile and your laugh even though things were often not going well for you. I think it speaks volumes about your character. It says so much about the amazing, loving person that you were, Kob.
I saw more than your goofy smile though. You and I could tell by how the other said "Hey" on the phone, if we were okay or not. We knew by a Facebook post, or a song we shared, or the tone in our voices. We knew each other better than we knew ourselves. My point is, I'm hurting Kobi. Many people can't tell I'm hurting by the tone of my voice or the look in my eyes. No one is you. We always took care of each other. And someone hurt you. Someone hurt you in the worst way, and most devastating way possible. So now I'm hurting in the worst way possible. Because when you hurt, Bub, I hurt.
Take care of me please. I need you.
Sis
Something I've never told you is that when you would cry on the phone, I would hold it together for you and help you through, but when we would hang up, I would sob. I would cry because you were hurting and when you hurt, I hurt. Seeing you having a hard time always broke my heart. You always deserved better than this life gave you.
I would tell you that I hated to see you sad. But I truly don't think you understood the magnitude of it. Or maybe you did. Maybe you never told me that when I would cry on the phone, you cried too. Maybe we really did feel the same. Because your pain always caused me to feel nauseous, and pained. I would always do anything I could to cheer you up.
I've heard some of your friends call some of the unfortunate circumstances in your life, "Kobi luck." I thought about that for a while and I couldn't agree more. It did seem that things often went awry for you, although lately, I'm feeling that we both have that luck, or lack there of. I also have heard many say that you were the happiest person they ever met. How awesome is it that your friends knew you had a tough time with things, but they saw you persevere right through it. They saw you extending your hand to others and you sharing your smile and your laugh even though things were often not going well for you. I think it speaks volumes about your character. It says so much about the amazing, loving person that you were, Kob.
I saw more than your goofy smile though. You and I could tell by how the other said "Hey" on the phone, if we were okay or not. We knew by a Facebook post, or a song we shared, or the tone in our voices. We knew each other better than we knew ourselves. My point is, I'm hurting Kobi. Many people can't tell I'm hurting by the tone of my voice or the look in my eyes. No one is you. We always took care of each other. And someone hurt you. Someone hurt you in the worst way, and most devastating way possible. So now I'm hurting in the worst way possible. Because when you hurt, Bub, I hurt.
Take care of me please. I need you.
Sis
Sunday, July 23, 2017
Bring You Home
Kobi,
I've been to Indianapolis a lot. Mostly to see you. I've driven those roads with hope, excitement and joy. I've also driven on those roads at 80+ miles per hour because you called me and you told me your heart was broken. You were broken. I told Casey I had to go and I left. I drove as fast as I could to get to you. Tears were streaming down my face as I heard the shaking and the sorrow in your voice. I knew I had to be with you. I had to get you and bring you home. And I did.
I've driven there excited as ever to take our girls to the zoo. I say our girls, because they were yours too. They will always be yours too. We would spend the weekend taking them to the zoo and having fun as a family. It was always filled with fun, laughter and so many smiles.
I've also driven there, correction, rode there, to see you in a different state. To see your body. To get your clothes. To empty out the place you slept. I say slept, because you knew when it came down to it, we were your home. Your home was with our girls and with Casey and I. It always will be. I rode there with no hope, no happiness, no faith that everything would be okay. I rode there several times during the worst week of my life, knowing that you were gone, and my world would never be the same again. I came home, without you. Every time. I just wanted to bring you home.
So you can imagine, that driving on those same roads, to see the people you loved so much skate, was incredibly hard. Walking in there wearing a shirt that screams that you were murdered, with a weight in my stomach. Oh I imagined you rounding the track during warm up and waving at your girls with excitement and pride. I saw you hugging them at the end and showing them off to everyone. That's who you were. You were a proud uncle on skates. Last night however, I was a proud sister. I am proud of your team. I am proud of the friends and the company you kept. I am proud of the life you lived. I am proud of who you were. I've always been proud of you. I will always be infinitely proud of you.
Last night I wanted to leave Indianapolis and bring you home. I just want to bring you home.
I miss you and I love you even more.
Sis
I've been to Indianapolis a lot. Mostly to see you. I've driven those roads with hope, excitement and joy. I've also driven on those roads at 80+ miles per hour because you called me and you told me your heart was broken. You were broken. I told Casey I had to go and I left. I drove as fast as I could to get to you. Tears were streaming down my face as I heard the shaking and the sorrow in your voice. I knew I had to be with you. I had to get you and bring you home. And I did.
I've driven there excited as ever to take our girls to the zoo. I say our girls, because they were yours too. They will always be yours too. We would spend the weekend taking them to the zoo and having fun as a family. It was always filled with fun, laughter and so many smiles.
I've also driven there, correction, rode there, to see you in a different state. To see your body. To get your clothes. To empty out the place you slept. I say slept, because you knew when it came down to it, we were your home. Your home was with our girls and with Casey and I. It always will be. I rode there with no hope, no happiness, no faith that everything would be okay. I rode there several times during the worst week of my life, knowing that you were gone, and my world would never be the same again. I came home, without you. Every time. I just wanted to bring you home.
So you can imagine, that driving on those same roads, to see the people you loved so much skate, was incredibly hard. Walking in there wearing a shirt that screams that you were murdered, with a weight in my stomach. Oh I imagined you rounding the track during warm up and waving at your girls with excitement and pride. I saw you hugging them at the end and showing them off to everyone. That's who you were. You were a proud uncle on skates. Last night however, I was a proud sister. I am proud of your team. I am proud of the friends and the company you kept. I am proud of the life you lived. I am proud of who you were. I've always been proud of you. I will always be infinitely proud of you.
Last night I wanted to leave Indianapolis and bring you home. I just want to bring you home.
I miss you and I love you even more.
Sis
Saturday, July 15, 2017
Movement
Bobo,
Having my life go on without you is painful. It's the worst kind of pain. Watching the girls have new experiences or say cute things and not being able to call you and tell you all about it, it's the absolute worst pain I've ever felt in my life. It's like breathing underwater. I can't stop it, and I know if I continue living my life underwater, eventually it will kill me too. Eventually my lungs will fill with water and I will drown.
However, my life going on without you is something I could make excuses for. Because there were a few, very few times in our lives, where I was so incredibly busy raising these girls and going to school that I would only get to call you for a few brief moments before I had to get back to doing the things that were required of me. I have been able to get by some days since your passing by pretending that I would just call you when the crazy calmed down. Some days, it's the only way I breathe. But the other day, I saw your life going on without you. The Rebels are going to the playoffs!
You would be so proud, so excited, so incredibly happy. I could hear your squeal when you called to tell me the news, I could hear you rambling on and on about how hard you were going to practice and how great you were going to be, and I would have believed every second of it. I would have squealed too. I would have been proud too. I am still proud of your team, and do not let me sound like I am not, because I am over the moon for them. I squealed and was excited and then I noticed the tears running down my face...at first a few, and then I was sobbing. Your life was moving on without you too. That is a different kind of pain. That is a different kind of hell. You should be here. You should be here to tell me about your day, about your life, what has you crying, what has you laughing and everything in between. You deserve to be here. Which is more than I can say about the scum who took you from me. I know your team will carry you with them to play offs. I know they miss you and love you too. But you should be here to skate with them, you should be here to celebrate with them.
Life without you is just so odd, and quiet. The other day Sprint called to tell me that they were successful in shutting off your phone. I had left a final voicemail a few days before when I requested the shut off. I called your phone that last time, and then I called it after I got off the phone with them, I had to hear that it was disconnected, I had to hear that you still weren't going to pick it up. I love you, more than you could ever know....
Sissy
Having my life go on without you is painful. It's the worst kind of pain. Watching the girls have new experiences or say cute things and not being able to call you and tell you all about it, it's the absolute worst pain I've ever felt in my life. It's like breathing underwater. I can't stop it, and I know if I continue living my life underwater, eventually it will kill me too. Eventually my lungs will fill with water and I will drown.
However, my life going on without you is something I could make excuses for. Because there were a few, very few times in our lives, where I was so incredibly busy raising these girls and going to school that I would only get to call you for a few brief moments before I had to get back to doing the things that were required of me. I have been able to get by some days since your passing by pretending that I would just call you when the crazy calmed down. Some days, it's the only way I breathe. But the other day, I saw your life going on without you. The Rebels are going to the playoffs!
You would be so proud, so excited, so incredibly happy. I could hear your squeal when you called to tell me the news, I could hear you rambling on and on about how hard you were going to practice and how great you were going to be, and I would have believed every second of it. I would have squealed too. I would have been proud too. I am still proud of your team, and do not let me sound like I am not, because I am over the moon for them. I squealed and was excited and then I noticed the tears running down my face...at first a few, and then I was sobbing. Your life was moving on without you too. That is a different kind of pain. That is a different kind of hell. You should be here. You should be here to tell me about your day, about your life, what has you crying, what has you laughing and everything in between. You deserve to be here. Which is more than I can say about the scum who took you from me. I know your team will carry you with them to play offs. I know they miss you and love you too. But you should be here to skate with them, you should be here to celebrate with them.
Life without you is just so odd, and quiet. The other day Sprint called to tell me that they were successful in shutting off your phone. I had left a final voicemail a few days before when I requested the shut off. I called your phone that last time, and then I called it after I got off the phone with them, I had to hear that it was disconnected, I had to hear that you still weren't going to pick it up. I love you, more than you could ever know....
Sissy
Sunday, July 9, 2017
I Know You
Kobi,
As I stood next to you, in your casket, I looked over at Mom and I said, "With Dad, I didn't know where we stood or get to be close with him the last few months of his life, but with Kobi, I know he loved me, I know that he knew I loved him, I know this because we talked about it. In fact, we talked about everything, I can have a conversation with him and say back to myself what he would say to me. I know him."
I know you. I go over a lot in my head, and I think about what you would say to me. Sometimes I panic and think I just need you here to talk me through this, and I do. More than you know, I do. But I already know what you would tell me to do. I know you'd want me to do whatever I have to, to get through this. You'd want me to do my absolute best to be the best mother and wife that I can be, but you'd want me to take care of me. You'd know how absolutely miserable I am feeling, you'd know because you'd feel this way too if this was reversed.
When I had panic attacks you'd tell me to breathe. "Take a breath, and take it one thing at a time." "You're going to be just fine, you've got this."
When I'm feeling like a bad Mother, " You are an amazing, Mom and you know it. They are going to be just fine because you won't let them be any other way." "You have good instincts and always make the best decisions for them."
You knew me better than anyone has ever known me. You could calm me down better than anyone. I may not have you here to tell me these things, but I know what you'd say. You've taught me everything I need to know. You've trained me well enough in you, and your opinions that I know what you would tell me. I know how you would react, and I know how you would want me to move forward. If anyone knows you best, it's me. I'm not being arrogant, it's just true. So I hope the steps I take in my life, are exactly how you would want me to proceed. Because everything I do from now on, I do with your words literally on my arm, your love in my heart, and your thoughts in my head. To the moon and back, and to the sun and back.
G'night Bub
As I stood next to you, in your casket, I looked over at Mom and I said, "With Dad, I didn't know where we stood or get to be close with him the last few months of his life, but with Kobi, I know he loved me, I know that he knew I loved him, I know this because we talked about it. In fact, we talked about everything, I can have a conversation with him and say back to myself what he would say to me. I know him."
I know you. I go over a lot in my head, and I think about what you would say to me. Sometimes I panic and think I just need you here to talk me through this, and I do. More than you know, I do. But I already know what you would tell me to do. I know you'd want me to do whatever I have to, to get through this. You'd want me to do my absolute best to be the best mother and wife that I can be, but you'd want me to take care of me. You'd know how absolutely miserable I am feeling, you'd know because you'd feel this way too if this was reversed.
When I had panic attacks you'd tell me to breathe. "Take a breath, and take it one thing at a time." "You're going to be just fine, you've got this."
When I'm feeling like a bad Mother, " You are an amazing, Mom and you know it. They are going to be just fine because you won't let them be any other way." "You have good instincts and always make the best decisions for them."
You knew me better than anyone has ever known me. You could calm me down better than anyone. I may not have you here to tell me these things, but I know what you'd say. You've taught me everything I need to know. You've trained me well enough in you, and your opinions that I know what you would tell me. I know how you would react, and I know how you would want me to move forward. If anyone knows you best, it's me. I'm not being arrogant, it's just true. So I hope the steps I take in my life, are exactly how you would want me to proceed. Because everything I do from now on, I do with your words literally on my arm, your love in my heart, and your thoughts in my head. To the moon and back, and to the sun and back.
G'night Bub
Thursday, July 6, 2017
Things
Kobi,
There are things that I know, that I wish I didn't know. There are images in my head of you and what happened, that I can't erase. There are words that have been said that I wish I had never heard. There are things that I know, that I can't un-know.
In finding out that you had died, there was a very blurry idea of how it happened. Media said it was in correlation to a shots fired report, the coroner's office wouldn't confirm this intially. I thought they absolutely had to be unrelated, or it was cross fire, right? As that image became clearer, so did all the supporting details. The blood splatter, the place you were found, the way you were positioned on the autopsy table, your bags sitting on the sidewalk, your empty apartment, and all the details given to me by the funeral home, the coroner and your detective. They all helped to paint these images of things that I know in my head.
Things I wish I didn't know.
Things I wish I could erase.
The things that haunt me every minute of every day. Things that keep me awake at night. Things that shake me to my very core.
I try to push these things out of my head with memories, with your laugh, smile and those big hugs. I try to power through to the other side of those haunting things to that time we took the big kids skating. It was practically empty and we had so much fun skating around with the girls. You fell on your butt and I made fun of you.
I power through to seeing "Through The Looking Glass," and we both got teary eyed when it was over because we were so proud of how it turned out.
I think of all the times you made me laugh so hard I cried, or I cried so hard I laughed.
Then I think of how devastated I am that you aren't here.
Then powering through turns into me being right back where I started. Thinking of all the things that paint the horrible image of how and why you aren't here anymore. Everyone says these images and thoughts will lessen over time. They will fade. They will get easier.
Maybe that's worse. Maybe the thought of me getting use to these thoughts or it being easier to handle terrifies me even more. I never want to get to a point where these images are easier to deal with. I want to stay here, right here. I don't want to move any further. I don't want to get further from the last time I spoke to you. I don't want to get closer to being at ease with these horrible things. These are things I will never be okay with. These are things that will always make me feel like puking. And you know what? That's exactly how it should be.
I'm going to keep trying to power through. Because I know the beautiful memories we have together, are more important to keep in my head, than the things I wish I could un-know, and the things that I wish I could undo.
Love you more than you know, and I miss you, every. single. second. of. every. single. day.
Sis
There are things that I know, that I wish I didn't know. There are images in my head of you and what happened, that I can't erase. There are words that have been said that I wish I had never heard. There are things that I know, that I can't un-know.
In finding out that you had died, there was a very blurry idea of how it happened. Media said it was in correlation to a shots fired report, the coroner's office wouldn't confirm this intially. I thought they absolutely had to be unrelated, or it was cross fire, right? As that image became clearer, so did all the supporting details. The blood splatter, the place you were found, the way you were positioned on the autopsy table, your bags sitting on the sidewalk, your empty apartment, and all the details given to me by the funeral home, the coroner and your detective. They all helped to paint these images of things that I know in my head.
Things I wish I didn't know.
Things I wish I could erase.
The things that haunt me every minute of every day. Things that keep me awake at night. Things that shake me to my very core.
I try to push these things out of my head with memories, with your laugh, smile and those big hugs. I try to power through to the other side of those haunting things to that time we took the big kids skating. It was practically empty and we had so much fun skating around with the girls. You fell on your butt and I made fun of you.
I power through to seeing "Through The Looking Glass," and we both got teary eyed when it was over because we were so proud of how it turned out.
I think of all the times you made me laugh so hard I cried, or I cried so hard I laughed.
Then I think of how devastated I am that you aren't here.
Then powering through turns into me being right back where I started. Thinking of all the things that paint the horrible image of how and why you aren't here anymore. Everyone says these images and thoughts will lessen over time. They will fade. They will get easier.
Maybe that's worse. Maybe the thought of me getting use to these thoughts or it being easier to handle terrifies me even more. I never want to get to a point where these images are easier to deal with. I want to stay here, right here. I don't want to move any further. I don't want to get further from the last time I spoke to you. I don't want to get closer to being at ease with these horrible things. These are things I will never be okay with. These are things that will always make me feel like puking. And you know what? That's exactly how it should be.
I'm going to keep trying to power through. Because I know the beautiful memories we have together, are more important to keep in my head, than the things I wish I could un-know, and the things that I wish I could undo.
Love you more than you know, and I miss you, every. single. second. of. every. single. day.
Sis
Sunday, July 2, 2017
2 months
Kobi,
It's been 2 months since we lost you, and 2 months now since we found out we lost you. I'm not the same person I was 2 months and 2 days ago. I will never be that person again. I had a really hard time understanding why Dad did what he did. It took me a very long time to come to terms with his death. One of the things that I thought was a positive from us losing him, was how much closer we became. That day our family was broken. We were no longer the Walden Family. We were the leftovers of what it use to be. You and I, however, became a force to be reckoned with. We became these two people that could get through anything, as long as we had each other. Now as I sit here, one half of those people, I'm struggling to get a grip on what my life has become.
I'm the woman who lost her Dad to suicide at 13, after he attempted once before, after we struggled to keep him alive and keep him sober. I'm the woman who suffered with PTSD, self harm, an eating disorder, anxiety and depression. I survived a sexual assault. I miscarried 2 children. I have buried most of the people I love. Been abandoned by most of the others. I have been to the depths of Hell and back. Here I am, on my knees again, because out of all of those things, losing you, is by far the hardest thing I have ever done. Yes, I'm being vulnerable, and I don't care anymore.
When I tell people I am lonely, they look at me funny. They think, "How in the world can she be lonely? She has a lot of friends, 4 children and a husband." If you understood the amount of time we spent with each other, either on the phone or in person, they would completely understand. Yes, I talk to my children all the time, but that's a different kind of talking. Casey's schedule means I don't always get to talk to him as often as I would like. You and I however, we spent countless hours on the phone. You were apart of our family. It was never just the 6 of us, you were always included in everything. You were a setting at our table, a stocking on our wall, our photographer at the kids birthday parties, and the emergency contact for our kids. In fact, you were who was suppose to get our children if something happened to us. There is a hole in our family. A member of our immediate family was taken. You are gone.
There's a lot of empty space in my life now. The conversations while I was driving, the summer plans we had, the evenings when I'm alone, those moments where I just have something I have to tell you, which is basically all the time and every moment the kids do something awesome, or awful and I want to hear you laugh at them. I'm more lonely than I've ever been in my entire life. Because even when I was lonely before, I always called you. I've always had you. You have been my safety net from all that is bad and consuming. You have been my drinking buddy when we lost someone else that we loved. My hand up when I'm the lowest I've ever been. My supporting base when I'm about to fall down. You have been everything to me for almost 26 years. I don't see how to survive this. I don't see how to get through it. I know I have to, but how do you do something you don't know how to do?
I'm going to keep throwing the pieces together until they fit. Until they hurt a little less. Until I feel more like living and less like being with you. Until I think I can survive with these cracks in my soul instead of letting the cracks break me completely. Until some way, some how, this life without you, is livable.
I think I truly always needed you, more than you needed me. Love you to the moon and back and the sun and back, I miss you even more.
Sis
It's been 2 months since we lost you, and 2 months now since we found out we lost you. I'm not the same person I was 2 months and 2 days ago. I will never be that person again. I had a really hard time understanding why Dad did what he did. It took me a very long time to come to terms with his death. One of the things that I thought was a positive from us losing him, was how much closer we became. That day our family was broken. We were no longer the Walden Family. We were the leftovers of what it use to be. You and I, however, became a force to be reckoned with. We became these two people that could get through anything, as long as we had each other. Now as I sit here, one half of those people, I'm struggling to get a grip on what my life has become.
I'm the woman who lost her Dad to suicide at 13, after he attempted once before, after we struggled to keep him alive and keep him sober. I'm the woman who suffered with PTSD, self harm, an eating disorder, anxiety and depression. I survived a sexual assault. I miscarried 2 children. I have buried most of the people I love. Been abandoned by most of the others. I have been to the depths of Hell and back. Here I am, on my knees again, because out of all of those things, losing you, is by far the hardest thing I have ever done. Yes, I'm being vulnerable, and I don't care anymore.
When I tell people I am lonely, they look at me funny. They think, "How in the world can she be lonely? She has a lot of friends, 4 children and a husband." If you understood the amount of time we spent with each other, either on the phone or in person, they would completely understand. Yes, I talk to my children all the time, but that's a different kind of talking. Casey's schedule means I don't always get to talk to him as often as I would like. You and I however, we spent countless hours on the phone. You were apart of our family. It was never just the 6 of us, you were always included in everything. You were a setting at our table, a stocking on our wall, our photographer at the kids birthday parties, and the emergency contact for our kids. In fact, you were who was suppose to get our children if something happened to us. There is a hole in our family. A member of our immediate family was taken. You are gone.
There's a lot of empty space in my life now. The conversations while I was driving, the summer plans we had, the evenings when I'm alone, those moments where I just have something I have to tell you, which is basically all the time and every moment the kids do something awesome, or awful and I want to hear you laugh at them. I'm more lonely than I've ever been in my entire life. Because even when I was lonely before, I always called you. I've always had you. You have been my safety net from all that is bad and consuming. You have been my drinking buddy when we lost someone else that we loved. My hand up when I'm the lowest I've ever been. My supporting base when I'm about to fall down. You have been everything to me for almost 26 years. I don't see how to survive this. I don't see how to get through it. I know I have to, but how do you do something you don't know how to do?
I'm going to keep throwing the pieces together until they fit. Until they hurt a little less. Until I feel more like living and less like being with you. Until I think I can survive with these cracks in my soul instead of letting the cracks break me completely. Until some way, some how, this life without you, is livable.
I think I truly always needed you, more than you needed me. Love you to the moon and back and the sun and back, I miss you even more.
Sis
Monday, June 26, 2017
The Floor
Bub,
I have a place on my bathroom floor, I often called you from that very spot. The place I go when life has me at my absolute lowest. I feel safe in a small place, so I shut the bathroom door, and I break down. I'm sitting in that exact spot right now. Sobbing, barely able to catch my breath. I don't even know what to say. I feel empty, alone, miserable and more sad than I have ever been in my entire life. I feel hollow all the time. I walk around as a shell of the person I use to be, the person you knew. I never thought I'd bury you. Never. I thought I would go first. It didn't matter that you were 6 years older than me, I was always the more unhealthy one. I expected for you to out live me, but I didn't want you to outlive me by much, because I knew that burying me would take everything out of you. Much like it has me. It still doesn't feel real. I don't know how to make that go away. I still expect to get texts and calls from you. I still expect to see you walk through my door. I pace at night and talk to you like you were here. Because if you were still alive I'd be talking to you on the phone. No one else is a night owl like me. So calling my friends at 1 am isn't something I can do, but I did it with you all the time. I knew you'd still be up.
I can't believe it's been almost 2 months and we still don't know who killed you. How in the world does someone get away with this? How do they get to walk around on this earth when you aren't? You are better than them, kinder than them, all around a better person than them. Everyday is a battle for me. I have an opportunity to give my kids a good life. A life you and I discussed all the time. You should be here to take them skating, help plan their birthdays and attend them, watch them grow and turn into these sweet girls that they are. I'm so upset they took you from them. The girls don't have family that is local. They aren't going to grow up like we did with all the cousins and family around all the time. They won't have that. You stayed close so they could have that. We just had no idea that the place you thought was safe and the place that you thought was a good home for you, wasn't at all.
Death is so weird. That's putting it lightly. You were here. And then in less than 2 months, you are gone, your home is gone, and everything that made you, you, is gone. I call your phone, I don't know why, but I do. Sometimes I can't call it. Sometimes it's too much. It's too much to not have you picking up at the other end. Kobi, you always told me when I was upset and really low, "It's okay, I'm always here for you, always" But you're gone. I know somewhere in my head you gave me the tools to get through this, somewhere. I just can't find them. I can't see how to get through this mess. I can't see how I'm going to survive this. To everyone else, I probably look fine. I'm not. I'm struggling. Help me.
- Sis
Sunday, June 18, 2017
Everywhere
You are everywhere. Everything reminds me of you. We took the kids away for the weekend because we all needed a breather, a reminder that life can be more than crying and grieving, it can also be fun. We pull on to the roads we once drove on to get to your apartment, we stay in a hotel next to your favorite roller coasters, rode water slides that you would have loved, played games you loved to play. I even go to the bar and order the drink we would drink together. Amaretto Sours. The same drink we had a few months back and got completely drunk. We took that ever flattering picture that is now my profile picture, because it reminds me of a time we were laughing together. The songs play in the car and I can't listen to some of them. One of them a song that we both loved, that now has a gruesome meaning for me. Bayside - Dead All Day. "Well I've been dead all day. Could you tell? Could you tell?" Because the entire time you were laying dead behind your home, I had no idea. Because you were suppose to be at work, you were suppose to be alive. I feel guilty enough already, and that song doesn't help.
I sat outside by the pool watching the kids play, watching the rollercoasters zoom past, all the while thinking of a happier time. When we brought the girls to King's Island. When I watched you spoil those girls and see that huge grin on your face. I miss that grin.
Kobi, I'm trying to remember how much you loved me. But sometimes I think I get so sad that I just think that maybe I am just crazy and you were just doing what you were suppose to do as my brother. Sometimes I go back through messages and photos because I need to remember that love, I need to remember our friendship.
We stopped briefly by your grave on the way home today. I parked on the other side of the church so the girls couldn't see where we were. I just wanted to make sure the wreath I made you hadn't became a huge mess. But I walked halfway there from the car, and could see it still out there. I couldn't walk any further however. My legs wouldn't move. They wouldn't go. I started to shake and went back to the car. I didn't say a word.
I'm still struggling. I still need you around. I still feel you, so please don't go anywhere.
Love you so much,
Sis
Thursday, June 15, 2017
Nightmares and dreams
My mind is a wild place when I sleep. It always has been. Since losing you though, it's either a place of great peace and love, or sends me deeper into the Hell I'm already living.
Nightmare:
First nightmare I had was you walking into my bedroom, bleeding, telling me you didn't feel well. You fell onto my floor while I was rushing to your side. So. Much. Blood.
Dream:
You were just standing there, you told me this very simply, "I'm okay, I love you, and I did think about you." It felt so real, like you were truly talking to me.
Nightmare:
I replay your final steps in my head on a daily basis. Getting out of your car. Being terrified. Running for your life. The shots. Where you laid. How you were when they found you. How you looked on the autopsy table. How you looked in your casket, and then I imagine you laying in it. Just laying... This nightmare is exactly that, but with picture and sound. Like I'm watching it happen from a distance but I can't stop it.
Dream:
We came home from somewhere. I walked in and you were sitting there. You laughed and said it was all a joke. I wasn't even mad. I jumped on you and threw my arms around you. Even in my dream I could feel the immense amount of joy I had in that moment. The joy of holding you again. The joy of being with you again. I didn't want to wake up.
Nightmare:
I was going through your things, which I have quite a bit of. And instead of them being fine, like most of them are. They were all splattered with blood. I was getting mad because I couldn't understand why everything had blood on it.
You struggled with nightmares after finding Dad the way you did. So I know you are trying to help me through these, just try to push a little harder for those happy ones okay? I need more of them. Mom does too. I love you to the moon and back, and the sun and back. Missing you so very much.
Love always,
Sis
Nightmare:
First nightmare I had was you walking into my bedroom, bleeding, telling me you didn't feel well. You fell onto my floor while I was rushing to your side. So. Much. Blood.
Dream:
You were just standing there, you told me this very simply, "I'm okay, I love you, and I did think about you." It felt so real, like you were truly talking to me.
Nightmare:
I replay your final steps in my head on a daily basis. Getting out of your car. Being terrified. Running for your life. The shots. Where you laid. How you were when they found you. How you looked on the autopsy table. How you looked in your casket, and then I imagine you laying in it. Just laying... This nightmare is exactly that, but with picture and sound. Like I'm watching it happen from a distance but I can't stop it.
Dream:
We came home from somewhere. I walked in and you were sitting there. You laughed and said it was all a joke. I wasn't even mad. I jumped on you and threw my arms around you. Even in my dream I could feel the immense amount of joy I had in that moment. The joy of holding you again. The joy of being with you again. I didn't want to wake up.
Nightmare:
I was going through your things, which I have quite a bit of. And instead of them being fine, like most of them are. They were all splattered with blood. I was getting mad because I couldn't understand why everything had blood on it.
You struggled with nightmares after finding Dad the way you did. So I know you are trying to help me through these, just try to push a little harder for those happy ones okay? I need more of them. Mom does too. I love you to the moon and back, and the sun and back. Missing you so very much.
Love always,
Sis
Wednesday, June 14, 2017
Lonely
Bub, I have never been so lonely in my entire life, as I am right now. I told Casey when I was crying on the floor the other day that I was just lonely. It sounds absurd I know, I'm surrounded by little girls, and I have a husband, an amazing one at that. I have all these great friends and great people, but I miss you. I miss talking to you. I miss hearing you laugh, I miss hearing you tell me about your day, I miss everything. It's a deep, longing kind of lonely. The kind of lonely that I can't escape no matter how hard I try, because the only cure for this lonely is, you.
People will ask me if we were close, I don't even know how to respond to that. A simple yes doesn't seem to even scratch the surface. Because I don't even know how to describe the relationship that we had. All my words seem too simple, they never seem to be enough. I don't know how to describe the pain I'm in. It's immense. It's constantly sharp. Sometimes I'm just not here all the way. I try to talk to other people and I try to make myself make sense, but I know I trail off. I know I'm distant, I know I'm stumbling and flailing around and I'm not just doing it in the privacy of my own home, I'm publicly and noticeably falling a part.
I went shopping at Target the other day. I remembered the last time you were here and you went with me. The entire time I pretended that you were there next to me. I even left you room when we walked through aisles and doorways. I looked over like I was looking at a physical person. I think once I even called your name. I remembered how we talked about how we are so alike in the sense that we basically walk down every single aisle and look at a billion things even when we went in for 2 things.
Sometimes it's hard to even just be in my own home. The last time you were here you came in late. You were tired from work and you fell asleep sitting up on the couch next to the girls. I put them to bed and then I went and put your feet on the couch and put your head on a pillow. I covered you up, told you I loved you and goodnight. I still look over on that spot on the couch and long to see you there, sleeping peacefully, like you were home. I would give anything to look over and see you there. I would give anything to have you back.
There are still so many times through out the day that I think about calling you. Calling to check up on you was a regular part of my day, and other times, it was me who needed to be taken care of. My heart hurts. This sadness is never ending. I still can't believe you are gone. I just want you back.
Love you more than you know,
Sis
People will ask me if we were close, I don't even know how to respond to that. A simple yes doesn't seem to even scratch the surface. Because I don't even know how to describe the relationship that we had. All my words seem too simple, they never seem to be enough. I don't know how to describe the pain I'm in. It's immense. It's constantly sharp. Sometimes I'm just not here all the way. I try to talk to other people and I try to make myself make sense, but I know I trail off. I know I'm distant, I know I'm stumbling and flailing around and I'm not just doing it in the privacy of my own home, I'm publicly and noticeably falling a part.
I went shopping at Target the other day. I remembered the last time you were here and you went with me. The entire time I pretended that you were there next to me. I even left you room when we walked through aisles and doorways. I looked over like I was looking at a physical person. I think once I even called your name. I remembered how we talked about how we are so alike in the sense that we basically walk down every single aisle and look at a billion things even when we went in for 2 things.
Sometimes it's hard to even just be in my own home. The last time you were here you came in late. You were tired from work and you fell asleep sitting up on the couch next to the girls. I put them to bed and then I went and put your feet on the couch and put your head on a pillow. I covered you up, told you I loved you and goodnight. I still look over on that spot on the couch and long to see you there, sleeping peacefully, like you were home. I would give anything to look over and see you there. I would give anything to have you back.
There are still so many times through out the day that I think about calling you. Calling to check up on you was a regular part of my day, and other times, it was me who needed to be taken care of. My heart hurts. This sadness is never ending. I still can't believe you are gone. I just want you back.
Love you more than you know,
Sis
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