Fourteen Years Later: A Day, A Lifetime - July 2, 2025

Fourteen years.
It seems like yesterday.
And it also feels like forever.

Words don’t really describe it. A date only marks it.
This is just a day—one day—when our world shattered into a million pieces.

Some people mark this day with rituals.
Some dread it.
Some want to do something special to remember their loved one.
For me, it’s always just been a day.
Because every day is a challenge—not just this one.

This day is only a marker of when it happened.
I remember the morning.
I remember the moment I knew he was gone.
And I remember the moment God and D told me I couldn’t go too.
That moment—leaving him, knowing I couldn’t follow—was the hardest decision of my life.
But it was also the best one.
Because our boys couldn’t lose us both.

We all went through the why, the what ifs, the anger, the sadness, the depression.
The emotional, mental, and physical pain that makes you want to give up.
But I couldn’t.
I had to fight to survive—literally.
Because my number one concern was our two young boys, who lost more than any of us.

We had the memories.
We knew D as the wonderful man he was.
But they didn’t get that chance.
They lost the opportunity to know him as adults.
And I knew that would be a lifelong struggle.

So what does it look like, 14 years later?

Some days, I still don’t know.
I just get up and put one foot in front of the other.
On the hard days, that’s all I can do.
Most days, we make the best of the life we’ve been given—the life D was taken from far too soon.

In these years, we’ve found a new kind of happiness.
It’s never the same after loss.
But in a way, it’s more sacred—because we know the depth of pain, and we’ve chosen to keep going.

I was lucky.
God placed a wonderful man in our lives—someone who helped us heal, who showed us love again.
It wasn’t easy.
The guilt. The fear. The confusion of holding space for someone new while still grieving someone who shaped your past.
It’s a dance between two worlds—one no one prepares you for.

Somewhere between the ache of missing him and the courage it takes to keep going,
I found a new version of myself.
One who didn’t ask for this, but still rises with heart.
Still hopes. Still builds a life he’d be proud of.

We’re all still walking this road of loss.
Grief isn’t just missing them.
It’s learning who you are without them.

Some days I did it right.
Some days I stumbled through.
And I still do—because there’s no manual for this.

But today, I choose to remember the good.
The memories. The love.
The moments that move us forward and help us heal.

Grief is forever.
But so is love.

 

Fourteen Years Later

 

2025 - Almost fourteen years. You’d think it would be easier by now. And in some ways, it is. Time softens certain edges, and you learn how to carry it. But then there are days when the weight feels even heavier, because the longer it’s been, the more you realize what’s been missed.

Watching our boys grow into young men—men that I am so incredibly proud of—fills me with both joy and heartbreak. Joy because they are becoming exactly the kind of people I know D would be proud of. And heartbreak, because I know how much he would’ve loved this stage of their lives. He would’ve cherished every moment, every laugh, every hard conversation, and every proud moment. Seeing them now, in all their complexity and strength, makes me miss him in a way that words don’t quite cover.

There are times they struggle, when I know they need their dad—not just a mother or father figure, but him. His advice, his comfort, his way of showing up. And while they have good people around them, and I couldn’t be more proud of who they’re becoming, the reality is that D’s absence is something that never fully leaves.

Being a dad was the most important thing in the world to D. The love he had for his boys—it was powerful. It was something to witness. And unless you've lived through this kind of loss, it’s hard to explain. What hurts me the most isn’t just my own grief—it’s theirs. That’s why I’ve grieved in my own way, in my own space, since that day. Fourteen years ago, laying in that ditch, I wanted to go with D. My heart was broken, shattered. But God—and D—showed me that our boys couldn’t lose us both that day. Staying was the hardest thing I’ve ever done.

He was my heart and soul, outside of our boys.

And still, as much as I lost, nobody lost more than they did. Because while the rest of us had years with D, memories, stories, time—they only had the early years. Their memories are snapshots. They won’t get the chance to know him as adults, or to have him know them as the men they are becoming. That kind of loss—it's a different weight. One I carry for them every single day.

So we live. We live fully, with purpose and with love. Because we knew him. We loved him. And we carry him with us in everything we do.

I couldn’t be more proud of our boys and the lives they are building. D would be, too.

Moment's June 26, 2021

 

 I watched my oldest today having a fun time with his friends, laughing, dancing and just enjoying life. I can’t say enough how proud of our boys I am, they both make me proud. I sat there on the ride back and G was half asleep with the boat moving and sun shining and I couldn’t help but fight the tears thinking now much I wish Derek could see them at this point. How much I wish they could each sit down and just have one conversation with their dad at this age. It hurts for Derek to miss out on that and our boys to miss that as I know how much Derek wanted to be a father and couldn’t wait for this stage of their life.
As most days I push past the tears and go about the day to try and help our young men grow into good humans and not focus on the pain and loss we feel daily. It’s not always easy and it’s always right under the skin but each day it’s a choice to move forward and try to life the best life we can. I know the only reason I manage to do that is because God has me, I may not always show it as I still have days I get angry and sad but I know and have to have faith that God has us.

Pieces, June 5th , 2020

Pieces, June 5, 2020
Wow been a while not sure why besides trying to live life and surviving teenagers. Ethan broke his necklace the other day and it was one that was yours. So I found what I needed and put it back together piece by piece, my patience's normally doesn’t do good with things like that but it’s those little things like that are about all I can do to help them be close to you. Life is still hard, don’t get me wrong most days we are good we have learned and want to live but some days it still hits me in the gut.
Nothing is ever what it was supposed to be and some of those things I’ve learned are part of it and ok. I have loved again and learned to live this life. Then there are things like parenting that is not what it was supposed to be, nothing we talked about is easy to parent as it’s all me trying to do my best with two teenagers. I try I really do but I fail some days probably more then I even realized that I fail. I know I can’t give up but some days it’s a lot to push forward. This is one of those things where it would be completely different if you were here. I try to not let my anger get the best of me but sometimes it’s hard. I give in too much as I don’t want them to hurt anymore then they do without you. You were always the strong hard one and I was easier, we talked about what we would do and we balanced it out with parenting but now its balancing it in myself. Because as much as Wayne, Kim or anyone tries it’s not you, their dad to push them and to demand of them and for me to lighten the load, back you and the roughness like we always did. I don’t demand enough as it hurts and I don’t want to push them away. It not easy to parent without you.
Every bump I hit I wish and maybe it is like this necklace putting it back one piece at a time. Just seems overwhelming and hard some days
Our boys are good boys and it’s not at all they are bad it’s the little things that hit hard sometime like today.

January 2016 Memories of Our Life...

Today I had some time to drive so I ended up in our old neck of the woods. Lots of memories there of where we started to where you were laid to rest. The memories still hurt but they also make me smile and know we were blessed to have you for the time we did. It can come with a mix of emotions. Grieving is an ongoing journey with no end, it teaches me how to love in a new way now that your no longer physically with us. Consciously remembering you is the key that opens my heart, that allows me to love you in new ways and others. Sometimes those memories make me smile and sometimes they do make me cry and hurt. I wouldn't change any of our memories, they keep me close to you.
This was my little walk down memory lane...

Our First Neighborhood, Ashbrooke Subdivision, great find. We loved this place and the memories we made.

Our first House together, loved this little house, we were able to look past the pepto bismol pink & mint green walls & carpet to see our first home. Nothing a little paint and new carpet couldn't fix. Lots of memories in this house for only owning for 2 years. We loved our neighbors in which I am still in contact with to this day, Derrick was so upset to hear of your passing since we didn't recount until months after. We had awesome Derby parties that consisted of one of your Beta brothers burning our siding and Eric falling over the fence. Building our first deck with Vince's help, installing a little shed, painting shutters. Lots of work that back then we enjoyed doing. We had our first and last huge fight, yes we disagreed but mostly we didn't like to argue and learned a lot after that nasty first one that we sat and laughed at the next day because it was so silly. We also got pregnant with our first baby here but sadly also lost our first baby here. You sat with me on the coach in the front room for hours until it was all over, we sat there and cried together, not many words needed. I can still picture that day when I close my eyes and I still keep our only ultra sound picture of our baby in my dresser. Ethan and Garret have both been told about that baby and we all know that you are now holding them in your arms. Ethan thinks it was a girl of course. 

 

Crestwood Hardware to the left of railroad track, our favorite little Saturday morning trip, I remember about 2-3 times a month we would take a Saturday morning trip there for some items to work on our new house. Every time we walked out of there you would say the same thing "I love this little town and how everyone talks to you even if they don't know you, we made a great choice on our first house and staying in a small town"

Duncan Memorial where we got married on a beautiful evening, I remember walking around the side of the building with so much excitement and love. We had both went through things in our life and came out on the other side and face each other to start our life. Sadly we never knew that this is where we would lay you to rest way too soon!!!

And this is where we laid you to rest, we don't go there much really, if I do I'm by myself. When I first set your headstone that I spent so much time and detail designing I thought I would feel close to you there but I don't. I guess my heart knows that you are not there, it just represents where you were laid to rest. In the beginning I came here a number of times thinking I would feel you here but so many times it wasn't there. I have sat and screaming at the top of my lungs and had my hardest cries here in the first few years. Then I realized that you were wherever I go. Boys do not like to visit you here either, Garret has a couple times but Ethan does not like seeing your name on the stone.

And there are our babies hand prints, they were so young at the time and it hurts the worst these days. It's so painful to see them grow up without you, it's hard not to get angry or ask God so many questions but I really try not to go there. You were an amazing father and they loved you more then life itself. We miss you everyday, talk about you everyday and keep you close to our hearts.
This journey and grief does not come with an instruction book and still almost five years later has many ups and downs. I look back at those days and the accident and it is hard to breath. As I know it is for anyone that knew you. We all were in so much pain and grief, none of us knew what to do or how to do any of it but to survive day by day. Guess some days we are still learning to survive without you.
The one thing I know is life is okay and we are surviving, doesn't mean it never hurts, or we still don't grieve but more then anything even on my hardest days I will tell myself 'Live this life the best you can for him because he is not here to live it' That's why we smile, we find happiness and create a good life that you would smile down on and be proud of us. We miss you everyday babe!!!

July 29th, 2016 Anger and Grief at Five Years 'Go rest on the mountain...'

 

This July 2^nd was the fifth anniversary of Derek’s death and today will be five years that we laid him to rest at Duncan Memorial, the same location where we started our marriage together almost 18 years ago. Life never prepares you for things like this, it’s not what you had written in your head when you were a little girl, saying I do to his proposal, walking down the aisle to say ‘I do’, buying your first house, having you first and second babies. Life seems amazing and nothing can touch you, but as we found out things can touch you. Life came shattering down around us.

With the passing of five years I have noticed some different phases of grief in my journey. Of course each person’s experience is different given the nature of the loss and their own life circumstances. I think in way’s you learn to live around your pain. Perhaps there are times and phases of grief where I feel I am in the thick of sorrow and pain, while at other times I feel that I have learning to live “around” the pain or alongside it. And sometimes I get thick in the anger that sorrows my grief, that seems to be a common one I fight with most as I see our boys grow and become young men that will never know their father the way they should and the amazing man that he was. That is a hard part for me, as time does help the raw pain that comes with grief, it never goes away, and you don’t just get back that piece of you that died with them. You learn to live with it and build a life to live in this world that they were taken from way too soon.

You find you are ok and happy and it is an all new kind of happy. You look at things, life and people differently then you did in the past. Most of the time you look at them in a more deep caring way and then other times you want to shake them and scream “wake up and know how blessed you are” yes it is a crazy world. 

Thursday, April 14, 2016 Gone too soon...

A day doesn't go by when you aren't on my mind but some days are of course harder then others. Out walking while boys are practicing and see all these dads coaching their kids in soccer. I miss the boys being so young and little. Soccer is different now, more challenging and a lot to take most days. They could so use your guidance at this stage, we do our best to help them but this was supposed to be your thing. I can only tell they and teach them so much about it. You would love this age and stage of soccer and how they love the sport. You are supposed to be here to raise them and help them, you would be so proud of them, growing so fast. It's an exhausting age for me running them every night and every weekend but I really take it in and enjoy the time with them while I have it. I know as they grow I will miss this stage so I soak it in as much as I can and it makes our relationship stronger even if I am a girl and mom they seem to love the time we have also even know it's in the car a lot. Funny!