Moms Columns & Blogs

Dear Brian...

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Dear BC,  

‘Wow.  That happened really fast.’  I hear your voice in my mind, saying this as plain as day; it’s perfectly clear, in your tone and timbre, almost as if you are standing right beside me.  And of course, ‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m SORRY…I didn’t mean for this to happen.’  You are saying that too, and I know it to be true; I feel it in every broken piece of my heart.  You were always masterful at asking for forgiveness…  

If I had only known that my last talk with you would be on the night of June 11…I had so much more to say…  I think about how our last conversation was so ordinary, very typical of how things had changed between us recently; you needling me, trying to get me riled, me dishing it back, us ending with an easy stalemate.  I’m so glad I came back into the garage that night, making sure that you knew I was kidding.  I really wasn’t angry; I just wanted to give you a hard time first for a change.  You must admit, the way the cars were parked, with the torrential rain, crashing thunder and bolts of lightning, it really was a mess…good thing I was already wet!  Such trivial things…we all thought we had time on our side…  

I was in a big hurry that afternoon, three minutes to get somewhere that took five…  As you put your electric hair clippers on the hood of my car, I was ready to leave; you popped back out of the garage and grabbed them, saying “I didn’t think you were leaving yet.”  Blake Shelton’s ‘Home’ was on the radio, and you said ‘That’s a good song,’ singing along…  I agreed with you, all the while rushing you out of the way, ‘Get back, I’ve got to go.’  I wish I had stayed just another minute to sing along with you, off key of course…  

I was only going to play tennis, but I was taking someone else’s place and didn’t want to be late.  We started as soon as I got there, one eye on the sky as it was incredibly sticky, extra hot and humid.  On a changeover, Elizabeth showed us an article in which her son had been honored recently as one of Charlotte’s top forty entrepreneurs under the age of forty.  The piece mentioned how he considered his mom to be his hero; Sue asked me if I thought you would ever say that about me.  My reply, ‘Sure, when he’s about forty!’  I figured I still had at least 20+ years to work on it...  The heavy, leaden skies opened up shortly after this conversation, so we all made a mad dash for our cars…heading back home…  

As the rain abated somewhat, you took off with Sunny and Zack to have dinner and then on to the other adventures on your agenda.  Your dad & I went to dinner at Township Grille.  We had the most rambling conversation…I was telling him about a story I heard on the radio regarding the different stages of fatherhood.  When you were little, you believed your dad was the king, that he could do anything.  Later, as you started middle school, you questioned whether he really knew what he was talking about; lately, you both disagreed more than you agreed over things…but at the end of the day, you were always friends.  I was pointing out to him how lucky you both were to have such a friendship already…many people don’t reach that point until they are about twice your age…if ever…  

We also talked about how hard it is to parent teenagers…figuring out boundaries, when to let go, when to rein in, how to find patience when pushed to the very edge of reason by constant demands and defiance…  Somehow we ended with your dad asking me if I really tried to be a better person every day…to which I honestly answered ‘Yes!’  Every day, I try to be a better wife, mother, daughter, friend, employee, tennis player…you name it.  I always fail somewhere along the way…  I know that I will never get things exactly right, but I always hope to do better tomorrow…  

I guess I just want you to know that I don’t regret riding your case all the time…  You had so much potential, and I always wanted the very best for you, so I demanded the best of you.  I believed you could do anything you put your mind to…the challenge was getting you to put your mind to it!  My only regret is that I wish I had listened to you more on your terms, especially as you got older…putting aside my book or hobby de jour, turning off the television, just stopping and doing it, more when you wanted me to, rather than when I did…    

I cannot do anything more for you now, but I promise I will try to make a difference in the lives of those you left behind; I will keep trying to be that better person, too, until I finish whatever mission God left me behind to complete…  I miss you so much…  And I love you always, B…  

Plans are underway for the informal support group; there is also an online group under ‘Moms Groups’.  Anyone who has experienced loss is welcome to join.  Wishing you hope… TG   

Tammy will update her blog on Mondays and Thursdays.  -- Jen, site administrator   

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