April 28, 2025
One step forward, five steps back.
This post will contain a little bit of this and a whole lot of that.
It reflects my state of mind right now. I want to be honest as I document my journey, not only for those reading my blog, but also for myself.
I still feel so tired in every sense of the word: mentally, physically, emotionally, and spiritually.
Tired.
Not only is my heart aching on the nine-month anniversary of John’s murder, but my body continues to ache, too. Along with my usual ailments, Myasthenia Gravis and Fibromyalgia, for the first time, plantar fasciitis reared its ugly head a few months after John’s passing, and today, sciatica has me in tears.
I need to lose weight, but it’s so hard to do when you can barely move! Also, my mind just can’t stay focused on eating as healthy as I should. Hopefully, that will change soon. I know this body is God’s temple, and I should treat it as such, but when you’re dealing with the murder of your child, it’s been challenging to stick to what I know is best for me.
Financial problems continue to suffocate us. I had a few disagreements with my husband and daughter, which made me scream. I’m sick of people telling me what I should do, what I shouldn’t do, what I’m doing wrong, and what I should do better.
Newsflash, I’m a grown woman turning sixty years old in six months, I don’t need to be lectured to or treated like a child. I’m also learning to live again after someone murdered my only son!
In the words of Michael Jackson, “Leave me alone.”
All of this is happening on and around the ninth month of John’s passing. My mind and heart can’t take any more.
I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again: the death of a child is the most agonizing experience a mother can endure. I wouldn’t wish this pain on my worst enemy. Losing your child to murder is an even greater devastation. The tears never seem to stop flowing.
I still receive hearing notices in the mail, which takes me back to the horrific morning when that devastating news of my son’s death was delivered by the detective. Along with immense sadness, these pieces of paper bring intense anger. It’s not just the fact that John died, it’s HOW he died. One senseless act of stupidity changed the trajectory of so many lives and, most importantly, cut the life short of someone who didn’t deserve to die!
Miller the Killer shouldn’t have been anywhere near that house.
IF HE WASN’T THERE, JOHN WOULD STILL BE HERE!
Nine Month Anniversary
This brings me to today.
Today marks nine months without you, son, and I still can’t believe you’re gone.
I sound like a broken record, but my heart continues to shatter. I know you’re in a better place, but I’m still being selfish. I’d rather have you here with me.
My Precious Pot
My fellow Sister Soldiers and I painted flowerpots to honor our Angels in the last MOMCC Sister Circle. I may not be as artistic as my husband or daughter, but I did my best. Putting your heart and soul into something can be more beautiful than the actual piece of art. I did that with this memorial pot, and I hope you like it, son.
The front of the flower pot contains the words “Sow Love…” This phrase means to intentionally act in ways that demonstrate love, generosity, and kindness, with the expectation that those actions will lead to a positive outcome or harvest of love in return.
Sowing love is something I truly believe in. I aspire to do it again consistently, when I can finally release all this anger from my heart. As Galatians 6:7 instructs, “A man reaps what he sows.”
It’s important to sow love.
John, you weren’t the most emotional person or one to verbally express your love very often, but you had the kindest heart and soul. As you matured, at the end of our conversations, you would say, “I love you, Momma.” It always made me feel so good because I knew you were a man of few words.
I planted special flowers inside my memorial pot for you. These flowers have a special story, which I explained in this Easter Blog Post Happy Heavenly Easter John
This precious pot sits on the plant stand in my kitchen, which contains three other plants that were delivered to me two days after you were murdered. Lord knows, I don’t have a green thumb like my mother. I honestly think she ‘s helping me keep these plants alive, especially for you.
May these special daisies continue to bring sunshine into my life, especially on the darkest days.
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