Dear Friend(s)

Praise be to the God and Father... who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with comfort we ourselves have received from God.

2 Corinthians 1:3-4

This letter is from a book I am currently reading about grief. I want to share this letter. Please know this is not directed to any one person, it is merely just a good letter for friends, not just of mine, but of anyone who may be struggling with grief or hard times of any kind.

Dear Friend,

Please be patient with me, I need to grieve in my own way and in my own time. Please don't take away my grief or try to fix my pain. The best thing you can do is listen to me and let me cry on your shoulder. Don't be afraid to cry with me. Your tears will tell me how much you care.

Please forgive me if I seem insensitive to your problems. I feel depleted and drained like an empty vessel with nothing left to give.

Please let me express my feelings and talk about my memories. Feel free to share your own stories of my loved one with me. I need to hear them.

Please understand why I must turn a deaf ear to criticism or tired clichés. I can't handle another person telling me that time heals all wounds.

Please don't try to find the "right" words to say to me. There's nothing you can say to take away the hurt and I am not expecting you to.

Please don't push me to do things I am not ready to do or feel hurt if I seem withdrawn. This is a necessary part of my recovery.

Please don't stop calling me or anyone in my family, you might think you are respecting my privacy, but to me it feels like abandonment when suddenly the calls, texts, messages and comments stop coming.

Please don't expect me to be the same as I was before. I've been through a traumatic experience and I am a different person. Please accept me for who I am today.

Pray with me and for me. Should I falter in my own faith, let me lean on yours.

In return for your loving support, I promise that after I have worked through my grief, I will be a more loving, caring, sensitive and supportive friend - because I have learned from the best.

Love always,

Your Friend

I have great sorrow and unceasing anguish in my heart

Romans 9:2

Chances are there is something you want to say to a loved one - perhaps something as simple as I love you or I miss you. Maybe you are angry, resentful, or need forgiveness. Any and all of these feelings can be expressed in a letter. Don't hold back. Being honest with a loved one isn't disrespectful, clearing the air is just another way to make room for love.

Dreams

I am not certain what truth dreams really hold or the validity of them but a family member has been having vivid dreams of Clay soon after his passing.

Clay is always 17 years old in the dreams and he is always wearing the same thing-no matter the weather-grease stained wranglers, boots and his notorious cut off plaid shirt. 

What's most bizarre about the shirt described that he's wearing, it is the shirt we buried him in and no one but Mick, Michayla & I knew which one that was. AND, it was long sleeved but no surprise that they were cut off.. ha!

The dreams consists of past events that we've had, hunting, winter fun at Mick's folks cabin, chasing an animal across a field; things that have happened in his lifetime. The odd thing is he is 17 and the others in the dream are the age they were when those things actually happened. 

At first, this really bothered this family member, to the point of sleepless nights and that person questioning why he/she was having those kinds of dreams, when other family members have passed and has never had this kind of thing happen. 

Selfishly, I was so very jealous. In almost 5 months I have not been able to have one dream of Clay, actually I haven't had many dreams at all. Sleep and I are not on the same page..

One dream that really got to me was this: When the kids were younger we would frequently go over to Grandma Betty Tully's to visit. 

**If you aren't aware, Tully Park in Meridian is named after Mick's Grandma & Grandpa Tully, they use to farm that land. When the city wanted to buy the land she said only if you put a park their. 😊**

Mick's cousin Tawnya & Jarrod would always volunteer to take the kids over to play at the park. 

In the dream, some of the family was at the park. 

Clay appears and asks where his mom is.
The family member replies, I think at softball with Michayla. 

Clay says, oh ok. 

The family member tells Clay he needs to talk to his mom. 

Clay replies, I can't. She's mad at me.

Those words were so hard to hear, but as I have evaluated things since hearing about this dream, I believe he is right. I am mad!!
I am mad that this whole situation has happened.
I am mad that I no longer have a son here on earth.
I am mad that someone suggested that beer was needed.
I am mad that Clay didn't just drive another half mile at 1:30am and come home.
I am mad that I'll never see Clay succeed at all the things he wanted in his life.
I am mad that I'll never see him get married and have a family.
I am mad that the days seem to be slipping by at a very face pace.
I am mad that Michayla no longer has a brother and Mick no longer a son.
I am just mad..

I may be mad but I do have some peace knowing Clay is in heaven and that he is absolutely perfect. He is enjoying all things God and I will see him again one day. I am not afraid of death and I cannot wait for the day I am taken home.

Wait patiently for the LORD. Be brave and courageous.

Psalm 27:14

You & me

I do not know if I could adequately explain the type of relationship Clay & I had. It was good, bad, hard, fun, overwhelming, exciting, honest, confusing, stressful & loving but more than anything I could have ever imagined. When we found out we were going to have a baby, I was convinced it was a boy and knew we would name him Clayton.
From his early teenage years Clay would talk to me about everything; hunting, camping, fishing trips, girls, friends, family, his worries and things that he knew would upset or irritate me, but he always talked to me.
I related to Clay the best because I'm certain when I was a child I too had add/adhd. I made impulsive decisions, I would daydream of riding horses instead of being in school. I knew how he felt about a lot of obstacles life throws at you and how hard it is to try to react the right way.
Like most parents during the Middle and High school days, they were hard. A lot of times I found myself wondering if we were ever going to make it through them. The situations we faced or that Clay put himself in, would rock us to the core.
I think at those times when our children are going through things we feel like we are the only ones experiencing them. It was a relief when several other parents with independent, stubborn boys would tell me that I'm not alone.
Clay was not an affectionate guy. He didn't like to be touched more that necessary but he gave me amazing hugs and he always told me that he loved me, he always told his family that he loved them all.
I miss those hugs more than anything.

I think those first few months I made myself believe Clay was out camping or hunting and that one day I would wake up and none of this would have happened.
Knowing that he'll never walk through our front door is hitting me repeatedly like a ton of bricks.

The harsh reality of saying "I love you to death" is that I never knew exactly what those words would mean.