Letter #10
Dear Bill-
Blake got braces. And I cried. Right there in the orthodontist's waiting room. Another milestone without you. His feet are now the same size as mine and he has now successfully navigated his way through his first year of middle school, making the honor roll both semesters and was also honored with a student character award. He turned 12 last month and has voiced that he wants to get contacts at his next eye exam in the fall. I can hardly believe how grown up he is getting. He ran track this spring and is doing a junior golf program this summer and will also babysitting his brothers some. He's a great kid and you would be so proud of him.
Landon is playing lacrosse instead of baseball this spring and he is really enjoying it. It goes without saying that it is much more enjoyable to watch, but I think more than anything I love seeing him get out of his comfort zone and trying new things. The aggression that lacrosse requires does not come easily to him, but if someone loses a glove or their stick, or needs their helmet re-buckled after a rough play, Landon is at the ready. He is also the kid that brings an extra pair of shoes to every game, "in case someone forgets their cleats." I bought him an electric guitar for Christmas, and he is getting quite good. He is in a kid's rock band and he loves it. He will be 9 this week. The same age Blake was when you died, which really puts into perspective how far we have come. He has really come into his own these last couple of years and it has been fun to watch.
Owen is playing soccer again and he is almost done with kindergarten. His teacher told me at conferences that while he is a very bright and curious learner, the "sit down, paper and pencil classrooms won't serve him very well." So the next 17 years should be interesting. I have no doubt that he will do well and succeed in life, in the meantime the teachers, as well as myself, may need some coaching. He looks so much like you the older he gets. The other day we were at Blake's track meet and Owen was doing sprints down the middle of the football field, because he cannot be still, and I swear to you it was like watching you inside of a 6 year-old's body. His form, and speed for that matter, was dead on. It was almost eerie.
I hope and pray with all that I have, that you can see them. I know that you would be so proud of them. And hopefully of me, for not losing my ever loving mind at times. Because parenting three boys is no small feat.
We miss you so much and we talk about you all the time. Sometimes I feel as if my heart is literally being squeezed to death and my throat is so tight I can barely take a breath. I want to cry out about all the things that I miss about you, all that you were and all that you did. And now all of the things that you are missing. But there is no one to cry to that could possibly understand the depth of this.
This time of year is always so hard. I can tell my brain to enjoy all the newness and beauty that spring has to offer, but my nervous system knows what this really holds. Three years ago, we only had a month left. And we had no idea. This season holds so many significant dates so close together. Two of the kids' birthdays, my birthday, Father's day, the marking of your death, and our wedding anniversary. The lead up to all of this is always harder than when the actual days come, so I just have to keep my head down and keep going. I have lots of things stressing me out lately, some of them I can control but most I cannot. They just have to be what they are.
Kahlil Gibran writes, "The deeper that sorrow carves in to your being, the more joy you can contain." I think about this a lot as it certainly pertains to my life after what we have been through. Everything I feel, I am now able to do so in a much deeper way than I ever could before. And I am grateful for all we have been through and where we are going. We will always love you and honor you and we will continue to take us wherever we go.
Love- Bri
Blake got braces. And I cried. Right there in the orthodontist's waiting room. Another milestone without you. His feet are now the same size as mine and he has now successfully navigated his way through his first year of middle school, making the honor roll both semesters and was also honored with a student character award. He turned 12 last month and has voiced that he wants to get contacts at his next eye exam in the fall. I can hardly believe how grown up he is getting. He ran track this spring and is doing a junior golf program this summer and will also babysitting his brothers some. He's a great kid and you would be so proud of him.
Landon is playing lacrosse instead of baseball this spring and he is really enjoying it. It goes without saying that it is much more enjoyable to watch, but I think more than anything I love seeing him get out of his comfort zone and trying new things. The aggression that lacrosse requires does not come easily to him, but if someone loses a glove or their stick, or needs their helmet re-buckled after a rough play, Landon is at the ready. He is also the kid that brings an extra pair of shoes to every game, "in case someone forgets their cleats." I bought him an electric guitar for Christmas, and he is getting quite good. He is in a kid's rock band and he loves it. He will be 9 this week. The same age Blake was when you died, which really puts into perspective how far we have come. He has really come into his own these last couple of years and it has been fun to watch.
Owen is playing soccer again and he is almost done with kindergarten. His teacher told me at conferences that while he is a very bright and curious learner, the "sit down, paper and pencil classrooms won't serve him very well." So the next 17 years should be interesting. I have no doubt that he will do well and succeed in life, in the meantime the teachers, as well as myself, may need some coaching. He looks so much like you the older he gets. The other day we were at Blake's track meet and Owen was doing sprints down the middle of the football field, because he cannot be still, and I swear to you it was like watching you inside of a 6 year-old's body. His form, and speed for that matter, was dead on. It was almost eerie.
I hope and pray with all that I have, that you can see them. I know that you would be so proud of them. And hopefully of me, for not losing my ever loving mind at times. Because parenting three boys is no small feat.
We miss you so much and we talk about you all the time. Sometimes I feel as if my heart is literally being squeezed to death and my throat is so tight I can barely take a breath. I want to cry out about all the things that I miss about you, all that you were and all that you did. And now all of the things that you are missing. But there is no one to cry to that could possibly understand the depth of this.
This time of year is always so hard. I can tell my brain to enjoy all the newness and beauty that spring has to offer, but my nervous system knows what this really holds. Three years ago, we only had a month left. And we had no idea. This season holds so many significant dates so close together. Two of the kids' birthdays, my birthday, Father's day, the marking of your death, and our wedding anniversary. The lead up to all of this is always harder than when the actual days come, so I just have to keep my head down and keep going. I have lots of things stressing me out lately, some of them I can control but most I cannot. They just have to be what they are.
Kahlil Gibran writes, "The deeper that sorrow carves in to your being, the more joy you can contain." I think about this a lot as it certainly pertains to my life after what we have been through. Everything I feel, I am now able to do so in a much deeper way than I ever could before. And I am grateful for all we have been through and where we are going. We will always love you and honor you and we will continue to take us wherever we go.
Love- Bri
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