The days after

Wednesday came. Steve went to work. I was sad about that. I still needed him. But he felt he needed to get back to work - and supporting us financially.

We got a slow start to the day but picked up Ashley at the hotel for lunch. She missed CiCi's Pizza - I guess they didn't have it in Indiana, where she lived. We decided not to go to the one in our town - because there had been a lot of negative reviews there lately (on cleanliness mostly). So we drove to League City where there's a nicer one. Ashley realized fairly quickly that memories and reality don't always match. Ha! The pizza was okay but it wasn't great.

Steve ended up meeting us there. He had realized he wasn't ready to go back to work. We had a pretty good lunch. Jason insisted on a Dr. Pepper. I thought that was interesting. I'm like root beer and my kids have always started out that way. Tony eventually "betrayed" me and went to Dr. Pepper. That was his dad's favorite too. Well, Jason had always asked for root beer. This was his first time to ask for a Dr. Pepper. (And he continues to as well) Thanks Tony!

After lunch, we stopped by the store and bought some cookies and cards. I wrote out 2 thank you cards (the only ones I've done so far - even now). We drove to the police station. Officer C wasn't in, nor any of the officers that worked the wreck. So we left the cookies and the card. A lady gave Jason a stuffed dog. He calls it a bear and named it "ker-ker". It had a red scarf.

We took the other cookies and card to the business that Tony wrecked. 2 of the men there had tried to save Tony and we wanted to meet them and say thank you. That was hard for me. We met them, shook their hands, and told them thank you. It was kind of awkward actually. I felt good going but it just seemed awkward. We did find out that they had never received insurance information for their property damage claim. So we said we would look into that.

We came back to the house and visited. That night we went out to eat. I really struggled so we didn't stay a long time. It was hard being around people that were laughing and enjoying each other's company.

The next day, Thursday, was the last day here for Ashley. Steve picked her up and got her checked out of the hotel. We visited. We talked a little about the past. She asked some questions that had bothered her. It was interesting to hear her perspective too - like being shocked that some people at the funeral were so nice to her. Her last memory of those people, she said she was very mean and angry. That they would have been justified in not being nice to her, or talking to her at all. She also acknowledged briefly how she acted with us in the past. It showed a lot of maturity and gave me hope that any future relationship might be successful.

In no time at all she was needing to leave for the airport. We said our good-byes and Steve drove her there. Later that night, we would hear from her that there were issues. Apparently storms in Georgia had caused delays. Ashley's plane landed in Alabama for a couple hours for that I think, as well as plane problems. They finally got on their way but when they landed, the connecting flight had just left. My friend Crysty had already scheduled a new flight - and it wouldn't leave until the next morning. Ashley didn't want to go to a hotel, so she stayed at the airport all night. Because we could only communicate via email - it was difficult to keep in touch or get updates or make sure she was ok. Friday late morning we got word that she was in Indiana and on her way home. Once she was home, she said she was going to bed. I could breathe a little better knowing she was home.

My sister posted this on March 23 "My sister amazes me everyday. I have no idea how she can't just scream at the world and just say "F#@& off". I mean she yelled at me then apologized later. I know everyone thinks I did a great job helping my sister, but reality, that's how I cope while trying not to scream at the world. I would be so angry with his friends. He was my nephew, not my son and I just can't deal. I don't want to see people, I don't want to leave the house, I just want to lay in bed and cry. I feel guilty being this sad. I've never seen my kids hurt so bad.

My sister Melanie (and BIL Steve) have shown me what Grace really is. They not only forgave the young men but welcomed in their home, hugged them, loved on them, cried with them. Because I witnessed this, I was able to take the anger and show love for these young men. My nephew had amazing friends. These guys hugged everyone of us, they needed that I think more than we did. While my nephew was just having fun with friends, his friends have a whole other level of pain that none of us could even understand.

My sister showed me what Grace, Hope and Love really is. I never fully understood it until now.
God has been with her every step of the way and it shows to everyone, it shows.

Because of her, should I ever endure this pain, I know she will be there, reminding me to have Hope God's plan is bigger, To give Love because no matter the circumstances everyone needs it and show Grace because because while we are sinners we've been saved by Grace. I love you little sister. I love you to my brother, my nieces and Jason. "

We get to finally see him

Monday came bright and early. Like it always does. Today was the day everyone would start wearing red. The high school kids, people who saw the instagram post. Our friends that wanted to wear red. Some would wear red 2 days in a row. Those that wore it would post on facebook, instagram, etc and use the tag #red4aj (or #redforaj - because I shared it incorrectly). We had a LOT of people wearing red!

I know we worked on more pictures and video stuff. I was stressing big time. Yelled at people. Stomped off to be alone. I felt awful. But I felt panicked and things were out of control. My emotions were spilling over! I wanted my son back! I didn't want this to be real! How could he be gone? I mean, truly gone? He didn't live at home anymore - so he just wasn't home. This had to be a joke!

Eventually the time came for us to head to the funeral home. Steve, Grace and I drove up there. I was super nervous. Did I really want to do this? Was I really going to see my son - my handsome, funny, loving son - in a casket?? This couldn't be real. This couldn't be happening. And yet....here we were. Standing at the funeral chapel doors.

The doors opened. The casket was at the very back (or front?) of the chapel. Yet, I could see his profile - his hair, his beard, his nose, clearly. There was no mistaking that profile. I collapsed against the wall and just felt....gut punched. The overwhelming emotions were there again - spilling out in giant tears, running down my face and onto the carpet. My heart was hemorrhaging and there wasn't a way to stop the bleeding. Steve rubbed my back. I felt terrible because I do not know how Grace handled it. She seemed strong - but maybe she held it together on the outside because I was falling apart? Maybe she was falling apart on the inside. I don't know.

I finally got up, and we made our way to the casket.

I've been to enough funerals, touched enough dead bodies to know - the skin doesn't feel like healthy, living skin. The body is cold. The face *never* looks like the living person did.

I reached for his hand - somehow expecting......warmth. It was ice cold. I yanked my hand back. It looked like him - yet - didnt. He didn't have his glasses. They were shattered in the wreck. I touched his face. I touched his head. It just didn't feel real. He felt.....well, he felt like a wax statue, or like plastic. I started talking to him. It was the only way I would get through this. I told him I loved him. I missed him. I told him about his clothes. Grace told him his hair was a mess. He had told me, the previous Monday, that he needed a haircut. Grace decided she had to do something about his hair!

Now, Tony hated Grace messing with his hair. But, my daughter loves doing hair and makeup. It's her passion. And she couldn't stand for this awful mess! The funeral director brought a comb and hair spray. It's all they had I guess. Well, she did the best she could - but really, he DID need a haircut! We figured, as much as he loved to torment her - as older brothers do - he could put up with a bit of a bad hair style for the eternity. Heehee! I buttoned up his vest and then started working on his tie. I was going to do a trinity knot. I had the youtube video pulled up. It's very difficult to tie a tie, when the person is not helping. It's hard to move. I ended up tying it twice but it looked GOOD! He would be proud of his mama tying that for him! We spent some more time talking to him.

Something else that happened - a little back story. Tony had a motorcycle. He had specific plans for it. To paint it red, with pin striping. We had a neighbor a street or 2 over from us that did that kind of thing. He had painted my husband's bike. And had actually painted Tony's tank red. Well, steve talked with him about doing a little pin striping on the casket. He said he would love to do it - and wouldn't charge us.

So while at the funeral home, you could smell the paint. So we found - at the foot of the casket, on the top - the pin striping. And it looked fantastic!

Eventually we all sat on the front pew and cried quietly. We could see Grace struggling quite a bit. That was hard to see. It's hard to see your kids struggle and be unable to help them. There is no ointment or bandaid or surgery to fix a broken heart. And this is one of the broken-est types of hearts. We didn't stay a long time. We came back home.

That afternoon, Grace and I took her car to Tony's apartment. We had decided on exactly the things we wanted to display and needed to finish getting all of that. Steve wanted me and Grace to go - so we could have that time together. Grace drove her car - so that Steve could take mine and get it washed and vacuumed. He had some errands to run too, although I can't remember what. We got to his apartment and - yup - still a mess. Ha! That boy! Grace had a laugh at the burned food on the stove. We started going through his things and packing up. There was a point however when I was done emotionally. When the depression and sadness hit me hard. I sat on his couch and hugged his pillow. I looked at all his things. Most had been given to him (furniture for example) but some he had worked hard for. Or had collected over his years growing up. Each item represented him - and the dreams and goals he had. The stage of life he was in. How he wouldn't progress any further here on Earth. He wouldn't go on to college (he had already worked in IT. He had been considering college in the fall - to pursue cybersecurity). He wouldn't eventually open his own fusion restaurant or be a pastry chef. (3 years in culinary in high school. He loved to cook and bake. He wanted to open a restaurant one day with Austin. Or be a pastry chef. Or maybe both!) He wouldn't settle down, get married, maybe have babies. He wouldn't be there to tell me jokes. Or explain math things to me that were way beyond my comprehension. (he used to say "math is my first language". He was super excited about some new prime number that had been discovered). He wouldn't show me videos on fractals. Or do yo-yo tricks. Or solve a rubik's cube in under 30 seconds. Or do some really neat magic trick - like fill an empty coke can and seal it! He wouldn't play cars or trains with his baby brother. He wouldn't give his sister a hard time, or jam to the beastie boys in the car at unbelievable volume. He wouldn't give me that "look" when I went to take a picture. Or give me a hug.

The sadness was heavy. Very heavy. The apartment no longer had his presence. Not like it did that first night. Now it was just sad.

Steve's post 3/21 3:18 pm "Today I experienced the most painful, yet beautiful moment that I have ever experienced in my life. Today, we saw you for the first time since you left. Two of the strongest women I have ever known stood to each side of me. I watched your mother tie the Trinity Knot in your tie, and button your vest. And I watched your sister comb and fix your hair. We spoke with you for a few minutes. We cried. We laughed. And we bowed before God, asked that he would give us strength, and watch over you until we meet again."

My post 3/21 4:17 pm "Today we went to see Tony - first time since the wreck. I keep saying the hardest moment for this or that. Fact is, they are all hard. It's interesting to see the shell of a body. Yeah, it looks like it. But not really. The soul changes a body - gives it life, personality. And that changes how you look. There's comfort in knowing his shell isn't really him. That he's all around me. He's in my memories. He's in my heart.

I learned to tie a trinity knot tho, so he could have a fancy tie knot, like he always loved. He'd be proud. Grace tried to tidy up his hair - he needed a haircut tho. But she did a good job."

Steve picked up Ashley from the airport around midnight. Despite flight issues, she arrived. And it's all thanks to Crysty who handled his ticket and switched it last minute to avoid delays that were happening. All to ensure she arrived in time. We have been humbled by the outpouring of support, and going that extra mile. 

The weekend

March 19 was Saturday. We had had SO many messages, phone calls, text messages, visitors to give us love and support. I read every message, but rarely responded. I didn't have time, or I didn't have energy. And what do I say? Every time someone asked what they could do to help - how do I answer that? Because I truly had no clue what I needed. I knew what I wanted - I wanted my son back. But who could give me that? Only God - and that wouldn't happen for a long time. Did I need someone to clean my house,? Maybe. Meals? Already set up. Someone to watch J? Lots of people offered and helped when needed. My mom and my sister especially were there. Always there - taking care of things. Watching J, cleaning my house, organizing meals, helping go through pictures, setting up crowd funding, making the funeral announcement, working constantly behind the scenes - to keep us as stress free as possible. To say I'm grateful is a severe understatement.

The bishop and Stake President of my church came Saturday morning. The LDS church is the same everywhere. Wards are based geographically. And you attend where you are "assigned" (based on where you live". Stakes are made up of about 10 wards. So the Bishop is the ecclesiastical leader of the ward. And the Stake President oversees all the wards. Also - all the leaders in our church are "lay" - they do not get paid to do the jobs they do. They are great and humble men, serving God and His people.

They visited with us, listened to us ramble on. I felt all the time that if you get me talking - I'm going to ramble. Trying to communicate what was going on in my head. We worked out the details of the funeral service and shared thoughts and feelings. They prayed with us.

We decided that the casket would be in the Relief Society room (a room where the women of the church meet for a class.) It has 2 doors and a few rows of chairs. People could come and go as they wished. But it would be a quiet place. We ended up with church hymns (instrumental) playing quietly as well.

In the gym - we would have several tables with displays - to represent Tony. I wish I had gotten more pictures of the gym in the end. It looked really nice. We wanted the first 45 minutes to sort of be a "mingle" - watch a video of pictures, view the displays, and to visit. We wanted to encourage people to talk to each other - and share how they knew the boy we love. After that - we would have a more formal sharing time. Steve, me, and Grace would share some thoughts and memories. And hopefully others would follow. Grace and a friend, Hannah, would sing a song. This would then be followed by a eulogy by our longtime family friend Mike Lingerfelt. Tony spent 2 weeks in Mexico (age 12) with Mike and his wife Pati - while they were missionaries in Tepic. We felt Mike would deliver a heartfelt eulogy. The bishop would speak a few words about our beliefs. We would conclude this and then move to the cemetery for the graveside. There it would be short and sweet with words on the resurrection followed by a grave dedication (by Jason Mosis - who baptized him at age 8). We felt we had come up with a good plan.

As we were wrapping up with the Bishop and Stake President - 3 of Tonys friends were coming by. Dylan again, this time with Jeremy (JT - also there the day it happened) and Chris. So we said goodbye to the church leaders and welcomed the boys with hugs. We got to visit with them. We had heard many things about JT from Tony. But we had no clue that he was married and had a new baby on the way. (due in October! Wouldn't it be neat if it were October 15? Tony's earthly birthday!) He was well spoken and mature. He was grateful that he would get to see his child born and hopefully to grow up. Both JT and Chris were fun young men. We visited for a couple hours and told stories, cried some, but mostly enjoyed remembered our wonderful boy.

Austin, Tony's best friend, stopped by. The day before, Steve and I had ventured to Target in search of a red dress shirt for Tony (unable to find his own), and red shirts for me and Jason. It was a surreal time - as people made their way about the store completely unaware that my world was off kilter. We didn't find him a shirt. So Austin was here. I was sad and didn't really have energy to visit. I'm so grateful that Steve asked Austin to go with him to find a shirt. They got to visit and Austin picked out a great shirt for Tony!

We had also asked all the boys to be pall bearers. Austin, Dylan, JT, Chris, Jeff (whom we hadn't met yet but was friends with our Tony). And our nephew Tyler. We weren't sure about Jeff - and we asked another friend of Tony's - Adrian - to be one as well. Which, the day of the service would leave us slightly lopsided as all would be there. But that was ok. 

We now had to deal with our oldest. Ashley - originally born Devin - is transgender. She left home at 17, and came out as trans after she left home. She left on bitter and angry terms with us. And for about 5 years we had had minimal contact - and what we did exchange was rarely pleasant. Part of that is on us as parents - and part of it is on Ashley.

Regardless - a couple weeks before, Ashley had opened up some communication. Mostly for medical purposes. She was never evaluated or diagnosed with the genetic condition we have. And now, at 22, she was suffering, requiring a cane to walk around and sometimes a wheelchair.

The day after Tony passed, once Grace was told, I sent Ashley an email. I hated to tell her this way - it seemed so impersonal. I finally heard back from her. She wanted to come to the funeral but would have to look into funds to do so. We decided we could afford to buy her a bus ticket (she said if she could come, she would travel by bus). We worked it out - and she would leave Sunday I believe and arrive Monday afternoon I think. Steve bought the ticket. Later, Saturday evening, she would discover that we had ordered the ticket with her preferred name, not her legal name. She had travelled by bus enough to know that it was unpredictable and she could easily be stranded by having a ticket that didn't match her state ID. She said it had happened before. Steve tried to speak with the bus company but they wouldn't budge. We couldn't change the ticket - because WE had made the mistake. And the only way to rectify was to purchase a brand new ticket - and not receive a refund for the incorrect ticket. He could try to go downtown to the bus station and see if someone would have mercy. So he left around 9 pm I think.

I took to facebook. Asking for prayers. Surely - if I have faith, God will give us a tender mercy - and soften a heart somewhere. I had many many friends ask to help financially with a new ticket. Or even an airline ticket. I was adamant that God would help because I was faithful. My friends gently reminded me that sometimes God bestows the blessings we want through the hands of others.

I contacted Ashley - about a plane ticket. Once we knew for sure that the bus station would not be merciful to our pleas, we went ahead with a plane ticket. My friend Crysty, 4 hours from me, took charge of that. She had plenty of sky miles - and got donations from others as well - and purchased a round trip ticket for Ashley (using her legal name and physical gender) - to arrive Monday evening and leave Thursday evening. We would face many more challenges with regards to that. But in the end - it would all be okay. I think we were up til midnight or later getting the tickets ordered and info sent from Crysty to me, and from me to Ashley. Our oldest would be home to say good-bye to her younger brother (and also to meet her baby brother for the first time!).

Sunday came. Grace went to church. I don't know how she does it. She is so strong! I actually slept late for a change. 

The day brought lots of pictures and trying to get better organized to get things done. Working on organizing for the video; what pictures to display; what needed to be printed; TONS of anxiety and stress for me. I swear we collected every single picture of Tony ever taken. How do you choose? Can you? When we were so fresh with the loss - I think we wanted every picture. Maybe it would somehow be enough to show everyone the amazing young man we called Son! Truthfully, it would never be enough. 

I finished the obituary and had it proofed. Tony loved to nit pick grammar mistakes, and I didn't want to screw this up! I felt it was good. 

Steve's facebook 3/20 12:57 am "Mel and I were blessed to spend part of the day with 3 young men who we're friends of my son. We hung out and shared stories for a few hours. Just before leaving, they helped me get the chickens back into their pen, and each one got a chance to have a chicken eat right out of their hands.

Then, this evening, Tony's best friend came with me to buy a shirt for the funeral.

It was a good day today."