Pictures, Memories and More Tears

August 4, 2024

I’m catatonic.

Getting out of bed today is just as hard as it has been every day since John was murdered.

If I could lay here in a ball and cry all day, I would do it. No doubt about it.

I don’t want to do anything at all, and I mean anything, but I know life has to keep moving forward and I have a funeral to plan for my only son.

I want to send John off the way he deserves so, because of him, I muster up the strength to get out of bed once again.

The calls keep coming, the doorbell constantly rings, and the food continues to be replenished by thoughtful, kind family and friends during our greatest time of need.

I’m very grateful.

In addition to my sister-mom, Cindy, being our constant source of support, my sister-in-love Annie-Mae has been amazing. Annie-Mae is my husband’s oldest sister. She continues to bring dish after dish of delicious food every day and also sits with him providing comfort and conversation as he tries to cope with this devastating loss.

While I have absolutely no appetite whatsoever, the little food I have eaten, cooked by Annie-Mae has made my tastebuds dance. She can cook like no other. I think her special ingredient is love.

I thank God for her.

I move the pan of chicken alfredo to the side and sit down at my kitchen table. I set the bags of photos in front of me and sigh. Looking through these pictures used to be so much fun but today is a different story.

As I begin to go through hundreds of photos of John for the video tribute, my heart breaks even more. He was such a sweet little boy who marched to the beat of his own drum. His eyes were filled with wonder and so much excitement as a child. He had the attention span of a gnat but loved his Gi-Joe’s and would play with them for hours on end. He was a protector of his little sister, Justice, and the pictures of them together show the special bond shared between the two. John grew into a handsome young man and then adult but always kept his heart of gold.

Pictures of our little family together, Ronnie, John, Justice, and me….

I can’t do this.

It’s too hard.

Then I hear John’s voice in my head saying, “You can do this mom. You can do this. Keep going.”

So, through the tears, I pull out the best photos I can find to show everyone John’s short life through the years. The pictures that break my heart the most are at the end which are of John and his eight-year-old daughter Kammy, especially the picture I chose to close out the video of them walking hand in hand on one of the last fun days they had together.

A picture which shows father and daughter walking together into the future or, sadly in this case, the last picture of them with each other.

So much has been taken by a senseless act of violence!

John won’t be here for Kammy’s thirteenth birthday.

He won’t be here for her sweet sixteen.

He won’t be here to see her graduate High School or see her turn eighteen.

He won’t be there to walk her down the aisle and give her away on her wedding day.

Not only will John miss these important milestones in her life, but Kammy will also miss her father’s presence even more.

In the midst of all these negative thoughts, I stop and hear:

But the most important thing she does have are all the memories.

No one can ever take those away from her.