Letters to Henry, Part 2, 10/5/06

Letters to Henry, Part 2

Thursday, 10/5/06 5:10 a.m.

Hi Love,

I have to go to work now, but I just had to stop and tell you how much I love you.
I love you infinity.

-Mama


Thursday, 10/5/06 5:40 p.m.

Dear Henry,

What a day. So close to bursting into tears all day. Not consciously thinking about you, but..as soon as I get in the car to drive home, the tears come. I've been crying all afternoon. Cried while we watched LOST. The first show of the season - you wanted to see it!! Cried while eating your dad's pizza. Cried sitting in his lap after dinner. Now I feel cried out. It's so hopeless. All that crying does nothing. You are still so GONE.

I had too much wine with dinner. Now I'm dizzy and useless. And miserable.

Henry, I can't see how I can survive this much pain. The hole in my heart is gaping, huge with jagged edges. It is NOT repairable. "The hardest part is knowing I'll survive." That's a line from an Emmylou Harris song that I GET.

I guess I'm not cried out.

PLEASE COME BACK! I can't take this.

Saturday, 10/7/06 9:45 p.m.

Dear Henry,

I sure had a bad day on Thursday. Friday was better. For one thing, chaos at work took over my brain. The espresso machine crashed during our morning rush! Stumptown came and fixed it, but for a couple of hours we had a line out the door and no espresso. Stressful! I didn't really have time to grieve. Then in the evening your dad made spaghetti. He was so sweet - he asked what I'd like for dinner, I said spaghetti, and that's what we had. Sweet.

Today I worked 8-close, and it was brutally busy. After supper Myra, Sophie and James came over to watch "Amelie." It was a very fun time. Those little ones do restore my spirits.

I'm very, very sleepy. Better be off to bed.

I Heart Henry
-Lady Mama

Sunday, 10.8.06 8:30 p.m.

Sweetheart,

Your pop and I visited you today, brought you a pot of yellow mums. It was raining a little. Did you see us there? Do you still think of us? Do you still love us?

Precious one, I love you.
-Mama


Wednesday, 10/11/06 7:30 p.m.

Hi Hen-Ben,

Oy, my feet hurt. I'm not so sure those crocs are doing it for me after all. But then, I have been working an awful lot, on my feet so much.

I've become a gum chewer. As you may remember, I've never really liked to chew gum, but the past few weeks Myra's been giving me a piece at church. She says sugar-free is good for your teeth. And I discovered you can buy like 100,000 pieces for $1.99. So, now I have one on my commute to and fro and at other odd times. It's a little treat, and it seems to calm my frenzy a little.

Saul's moving to Myra's neighborhood. He will save money on rent and gas, and it will be nice to have him closer to the family scene. He's still living with Rabecca - he knows I don't like that, but he's his own person, so he'll do his own thing. It's the easy way, but I'm convinced it's not the right way. Self denial, self sacrifice, delayed gratification - these are not culturally popular ideas. But I believe they are the way we please God, and so they are the way to achieve joy. And I want joy for my children.

Here's a thought I had today: I have the attitude that underneath a VERY thin veneer of "normalcy" the world is seething with chaos, evil, and grief. This is reality and the veneer is just a joke. Should I feel this way? Is this Biblical? Or am I just seeing the world through grief glasses? I don't know. I should talk about this with your dad.

We don't see or hear from Courtney much at all. I hope she's not avoiding us on purpose. As far as I know we still have our Isaac date on the last Saturday of the month - coming up in a couple of weeks.
I think LOST is on tonight. I don't know if I'll watch it. I'm pretty tired, and besides, I always think of you. The little pleasures of life - don't you miss them? I guess your life was hell to you, at least that's how the drugs made you feel about it.

Tomorrow is your dad's doctor appointment. Also we're going to the funeral home to look at headstones. Big day.

Hen-Ben-a-Rooney, I love you. (Ruffle your hair, flip your ears...)
-Mama

Friday, 10/13/06 9:15 p.m.

Dear Henry,

I talked to Courtney on the phone a few minutes ago. It was so good to hear her voice. Whenever we talk, there's an "elephant in the room" question I wish I could ask her. Did you love Henry after all? Do you forgive him? I wonder if we'll ever have a frank talk like that.

She wanted to know about your headstone, whether there were any plans in the works. I told her that we got some info and put some ideas together; she's going to meet us at church to see what we have in mind.

She said Isaac calls his time at the Dougy Center his "daddy's group." He likes it - goes every other week and to counseling once a month. Courtney is still going twice a week. She's also playing softball and basketball, and she said she's starting to put on weight again. That's good.

Your pop is determined to lose weight. He has to get his diabetes under control. His foot is really bothering him and his angina is worse. But if he can lose weight, the doctor thinks he'll be ok. It's hard but it's got to be done.

Patrick too - he's so much heavier now and he sleeps so poorly. That little boy is so lonely and grief-stricken. Henry, your brother needs you. We all do. You took us ALL with you when you took that leap. Pieces of us are in that grave with you.

I'm happy about the plans for your headstone. When it is in place, I think I will be satisfied in some odd way. Like, another step is accomplished. We've honored our son in this small way, and it will always be there, until the earth passes away. "Here lies our beloved Henry Abram Roberts." That's shocking.

How am I going to find the time and energy to make Saul and Pack's scrapbooks? I don't know, but I suppose I shouldn't worry about that. It'll work out. I love you, Punkin Pie,

-Mama



Sunday, 10/15/06 9:15 p.m.

Hello Sweetheart,

We have all agreed on the text and design of your headstone. ALL agreed. Even Courtney, Saul and Pack. The stone will be polished black with metallic gold flecks; the shape will be what they call a "pillow." The inscription, in white lettering, will be:

Here Lies Our Beloved
Henry Abram Roberts
February 10, 1980 - June 7, 2006
"He will wipe every tear from their eyes," Rev. 21:4

There will be a simple graphic of a stalk of wheat, symbolizing your new life that has sprung from the seed of your past.

Do you like it? We all like it a lot.

Hen-Ben, Julie says that she and Joe had vivid dreams where you visit them and tell them that you want them to know that you didn't make a decision to jump. You told them you were so doped up on Prozac, you lost your footing and fell. She said you really wanted them to know that.

It hurts so bad. I can't stand it. You must have been so scared. I can't bear it, Henry.

It IS better if you didn't mean to, but it's small comfort. You did place yourself on that cliff. You did write those notes and leave that message on your phone. How did it go? "This is Henry. It's June 7th, 2006. I'm here on the edge of a cliff. It's beautiful. I just want everyone to know I love them and I'm sorry. Mmm.." Click. The end. All we ever heard from you.

If you visited Julie and Joe, why can't you visit us? I could use a visit from my Hen-Ben.

Your dad had bad chest pains on Saturday. He kept having to go sit down, and I had to keep him off the register so he wouldn't get too stressed out. We are getting so busy we are finding it a challenge to cope, and it's hard for him to bake enough. The future seems very fragile, at least in this earthly realm.

Isaac - he was at church today with Courtney! It made me cry to see how much he wanted to be with Packah. Pack could really do some good by being with him a lot. It would be good for both of them.
Courtney gave me a birthday present of a framed photo of me and Isaac, and another pretty frame. Whenever I see her I always ache to tell her it's alright, we don't hold her responsible, and I ache to ask her if she loves you or hates you.

Henry, you are beautiful and sweet and precious and I miss you. I miss you. Why can't you be here tonight? The months ahead seem dark. I trust it won't always be that way, because our family needs me to be hopeful. I just need more time, I guess.

May God keep you close, forever and ever.
Love, Mama Pajama


Monday, 10/16/06 10:15 p.m.

Hen-Ben,
Look!

Your name will be there for all to see in Africa. They are sending the plaque from Texas to Ghana, so it will be a while before it's in place. But when I get a photo of it in its permanent home I'll be sure to show it to you.

That is a very sweet thing for them to do. I do remember you telling people about Jesus lattes. I can hear your voice, I can see your little smile, your "sly gentleness," as Tim says. I can see you bending over the cup to make the perfect rosetta. Pain.

Everywhere I turn I am confronted with the fact that you are gone. There is no escape.
Tonight at Belle Voci practice some of the songs started to come together, to gather a little magic. It is good for my soul.

I'm sad tonight. Pretty dang sad. Nothing new. I wish I could draw a picture of you hugging me. Maybe Pack or Saul could draw one.

Once you were little like this:

We had good times.

I love you,
Mommy


Thursday, 10/19/06 10:15 p.m.

Henry, I think I experienced a miracle today. I couldn't stop crying about it.

We were in the middle of our rush. A lady in line placed her order, then she told me she had something for me. She told me that she'd had a dream twice, and the dream was that she should tell me a verse in the Bible. She wrote it down for me. I'll tape it here in our book, but I want to show it to Myra tomorrow. She didn't know the specific scripture, but the gist of it is that we should not give up or grow weary in doing good, that we'll reap a harvest if we don't give up. She asked me if that meant anything to me.

I don't think she knows about you. She seems to have come in before, but I don't know her. She's just a nice normal lady who had this dream, this gift for me. I was, am, dumbstruck.

I've been feeling increasingly desperate over the past days, or weeks. Your dad's health seems so questionable, and he's been tough to deal with. Moody, you know. So many times I've had to reach down in that place where boot straps are supposed to be, and pull them up, but they're
pretty frayed. I just feel like giving up. Too much heartbreak. Too much pain. It feels hopeless.
And then, I guess God talks to me and tells me not to give up. Keep on. I'll gather in a harvest when the time is right. God encouraged me.

I want to tell others about this, but it's so personal. And that scripture about "pearls before swine" comes to mind. I don't want people to be put off, think I'm nuts. But it is sinking in slowly that God has put his hand upon me. This is too lofty for me to attain.

Other stuff: I started working on Saul's scrapbook, and I came up with a good idea. I cut out that profile photo of you driving and I placed it in the scrapbook with a shiny penny (heads up) next to it. You and Abe are like twins. (I started to say "dead ringers for each other," but..). I think Saul's book will turn out great.

Pack only had three hours' sleep again last night. That boy really worries me. And I love him so much.

We had an extra practice tonight. The music is really starting to ring. I hope everyone will be able to come hear us. I wish you would have come to one of our concerts before. Saul never has either. Oh well.

Saturday night we're going to Salishan again. I kind of hope it's cold and rainy. That beautiful sunset was hard to take last time.

Ba-dum, ba dee da dum...over and over...
I LOVE YOU! I HATE IT THAT YOU ARE GONE. I hate it.

-Mama

P.S. Scott T. said a friend of his at work just lost someone who had been on Prozac. I wonder if your death was reported as part of the 3% that this happens to? I bet lots of these events go unreported.
Goodnight, Sweetheart.

Sunday, 10/22/06 8:15 p.m.

Dear Henry,

We went to Salishan last night. Remember, the last time we went was when I started writing to you. July 14th. I really felt like we needed to get away. Pack switched shifts with me so I didn't have to close. We got there around 5:30, ate dinner and then settled in. It was a beautiful sunset again, and I still couldn't enjoy it. We closed the curtains. Your pop slept 11 hours! Amazing.

We talked a lot about how worried he is that he will suddenly die and leave me alone. We're not really sure if it is "unstable angina" or just his surgical wound bothering him. At any rate, it is tough living with such uncertainty. The good thing is, we had a good talk about it and that relieved some of the anxiety for him.

Here is the card the lady wrote on to give me her dream message. I can't think what else this could be but a message of encouragement from God. I can't think that the lady seemed nuts, and why would she lie about something like this?

It's funny how much I resist really taking this to heart. Once in a while it sinks in and I feel a shot of joy. But I can't seem to keep a grip on that joy. It slips away. I told your dad that I feel as though there are two paths ahead of me: one is bitterness and grief and the other is joy and grief. I'm having a hard time choosing joy. I just feel too sad.

I'm beginning to think that some day I will want to see the place. The place where you died.

I worked on Saul's scrapbook tonight, but my mood was too dark, so I stopped. I'll finish it when I feel better.

What will I reap in due season? Will I see you again and be joyful because you are happy? Oh Hen-Ben, please don't leave us like this. We're broken.

-Ma

P.S. Can you pray where you are? Please pray for your Daddy.

Thursday, 10/26/06 6:50 p.m.

Dear Sweetheart,

I've spent the last 1/2 hour or so getting the table set up for a little Halloween party for Sophie, James and Isaac. Saturday night is Isaac's night to stay over, and I thought he'd enjoy seeing James and Sophie. I have stickers, monster-shape candies, candy corns, cookies, goldfish crackers, grapes and mandarin oranges. I have little pumpkin plates and a pumpkin candle, place cards and a cool hot wheels for everyone. I called Isaac to tell him about it a minute ago, and he had a babysitter who told me Courtney is on a date. Isaac said Aunt Whitney is taking him to Skateworld on Saturday, but he seemed interested when I told him about the party. I'm sure Courtney didn't forget. I'm looking forward to it.

Your dad has been doing a different personality test (not Myers-Briggs or the other one we did a few years ago) and he got me and Pack to take it too. Pack is the Motivator. I'm the Peacemaker. Jim is the Asserter. I wonder which one you are? I thought about trying to take it as though I was you, but I expect that's pointless.

Abraham Lincoln was a peacemaker too.

I had a good day today. I was happy. I got things done, and I didn't have to stay until close.

Ron Joy is in the hospital. They think he may have had a stroke. I'm worried about him. I can't remember if it was yesterday or the day before, but he didn't look well at all, and he told me he couldn't figure out why he was so tired. I think it was Tuesday.

As for your dad, he has convinced himself that his chest pain is not his heart. He may be right - I hope so. And if he believes so, it is beneficial either way.

American Chimney Steve gave me a CD copy of a sermon on the subject of suffering. I listened to it yesterday. I understand and accept that I must expect to suffer in this life, that everyone must expect this. I know that suffering teaches me much and that it is necessary. And I know that Jesus suffered so that I can identify with him, so that I can find union and communion with God. The part that I am struggling with is your suffering. Your suffering didn't seem to bring any of the good things. It just brought death. Death to my Henry. I know, we all die. But not like this. Why should I get all these benefits from suffering while you get nothing but death? Well, I hope you get life after death in Jesus' arms. I hope so. Your dad says over and over that he thinks your death was an accident - Prozac, lost your footing, etc. - and I think he's right. But I keep feeling confused and sad. Henry, how will I ever work this out?

Henry, I love you. I miss you. My heart aches for you. I wish you could talk to me.

Love, Mama Pajama

Sunday, 10/29/06 9 p.m.

Hello love,

Today I wore the shirt I had on the day you died. Maybe that's what made me sad today. I don't know.
I just wasted two hours playing Snood. Is that stupid? Seems like it. I could have read, knitted, practiced, cleaned house. Am I too hard on myself? I don't know the answer to that question. It's actually a pretty heavy question.

The party was good. Phin and Saul got to come for a little while. Isaac did fine overnight. He threw up at the class at TLC though, so I had to have him with me during the talk by Randy Harris. Kind of blew it for me. I was tired afterwards and not very patient. I'm sorry. I don't feel like a very good grandma.

Saul painted my eyelids like eyeballs. Courtney took a picture. Pretty freaky. Only trouble is, it smeared.

I'm sorry I'm so sad today. I feel sad and confused. I'm sure I'll feel better tomorrow.

Your dad is sweet and patient with me.

Hurt hurt hurt hurt hurt hurt
Henry Baby! I miss you.
Come back.
-Mama

Saturday, 11/04/06 10 p.m.

Hen Ben,

Well, it's been a week since I've written to you. I think you know that I think about you all the time. There never is a time when I'm not holding you lovingly in my thoughts. Lately I've been thinking this: you are tucked away in a safe place. There is so much pain in this broken world, but you are safe from it now.

Tonight was my Belle Voci concert. Saul, Rabecca, Myra and Dad came. Pack and Tessa were supposed to be there, but they never showed. Neither did Meg. But, we had a pretty good crowd and it went pretty well. Also, our CD was released tonight! I'm listening to it now. I like to think about how proud my parents would be to have a copy.

I haven't slept holding Snoopy for about a week now. He's still dressed in your shirt and he's resting next to me on Isaac's bed. I guess I must be making progress.

The glass guys finally emailed me that they have time to do your marker now; they're going to be in town early this week and said they'd come by to talk about it. I hope it works out.

I miss you. You tall one with the Henry smile. I just plain miss you. I have to find a way to keep you in my life, keep you real so that I can go on and be OK.

Precious one, where's my hug?
-Mama


Sunday, 11/05/06 9:30 p.m.

Henry,

For a while today I wanted to die. I think your dad wanted to die also. We had a fight, but we're better now. Why do people who love each other so much, hurt each other so much?

I finished Blue Like Jazz and then I cried. I was crying for you, but I'm not clear about the connection.

I talked to Dave for 2-3 hours tonight. I told him I love him. Then I played Snood for too long. I feel sinful when I do that. Now I'm tired and hungry and I'm just going to go to bed and try to be better tomorrow.

-Your ever lovin' Mama Pajama

Wednesday, 11/08/06 9:15 p.m.

Dear Henry,

I think I've been avoiding you lately. My mind would turn to you and I would push away. I'm sorry. It's not that I don't love you. It's not that I don't ache for you. Maybe it's just that I get tired of feeling the pain.

I think I'm getting a hint of what "letting you go" might mean. I've been afraid of that, afraid of losing every scrap of you, even my memories. But maybe letting go just means giving up the dialogue: "It happened, no it didn't, yes it did, no it couldn't, yes it did.." Maybe letting you go is giving up that tension. It happened. But I still want to cry out, NO!

The glass guys never showed. Shall I give up? Time to let the glass guys go..

I finished Saul's scrapbook tonight. It looks good. I'm looking forward to seeing the kids unwrap those. I'd kind of like to make one for Isaac, but I'm not sure if I should. Maybe that would be more for Courtney to do. I don't know.

Big news: your dad agreed to close the store the first week in January so we can take a vacation! Can you believe it?! We don't know yet what we'll do, but we'll figure out something good.

Pack had a dream that you visited him. You told him you get to visit once a day. Pack asked if you knew that he was crying for you, and you said, yes, you always know when we cry for you. You guys hung out, drove around, had a good time. Pack asked you if this was real, and you said, Patrick, you know nothing down here is real, only heaven is.

I wish I knew. Henry, where are you? You are a vapor, a mist.

I might write to the author of Blue Like Jazz, tell him about you. Sometimes I want to stop everyone, tell them all about you. But I don't. I just chug along.

Your 5 month anniversary yesterday. Gary Strealy called, told us he was thinking about us. He is a dear one for sure.

Hugs and kisses, sweet Hen Ben,
Lady Mama

Sunday, 11/12/06 8:30 p.m.

Henry, I'm lonely for you. I guess I sound like a broken record. A skipping CD. I miss you so much. There's no one to take your place, because you are our only Henry.

Today was a better day for me and your dad. No fighting. Last night Jim told me that he cried over you for an hour. Then, he apologized to me.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I don't know why I cried. I should be able to handle this, I'm sorry." This confuses me. I'm glad he grieves for you. I'd wonder if he didn't. Today I asked Gary Strealy what might be behind that. He told me, Jim wants to be strong, he wants to be strong for you. I understand.

Two books I've read lately seem to be just what I need. Blue Like Jazz and I Am the Messenger. I want to take them to heart and be changed. And I want to read the Bible again cover to cover. Also I want to make lists: Things I Am Sure Of; Things I Am Not Sure Of; Why I Believe In Jesus; Why I Wish I Loved Him With All My Heart.

We got a note from the manager yesterday telling us we have to remove our air conditioner. Now your dad wants to move instead of going on a vacation. I don't know..it's such a lot of work. I spent the past couple of hours looking at houses for rent on Craig's list. Hmmm.

I was wrong about something. I thought Saul did that drawing of my dad, but it turns out, you drew it when you were about 13, in 1993. Dad would have been about 75. I think it might have been on a trip up there for his birthday that you drew it.

Patrick and Courtney's birthdays are coming up. Any ideas? Things will be happening fast from now through January. Getting through the holidays without you, and then your birthday.

Henry, I don't have enough time to be and do all I want to. Sometimes I feel panic about this. And yet, I spend time selfishly - reading, playing Snood watching TV. I get anxious about Isaac and Phin, not seeing them enough.  Even Saul, Myra, Thomas and the kids. This is my family, and time is slipping away. What can I do? Jim and Patty's is a worthy endeavor, but it sucks up most of my energy.

What is it like where you are? Do you have all the time in the world? Or, is there no time?

Wherever you are, please hear me: I love you and I want you back. I miss you. -Mama


Tuesday, 11/14/06 9:30 p.m.

Hey there, Sweetheart, it's me. Mom. Remember me? The one who loved you your whole life. The one who cried over you, laughed with you, spanked you, tickled you, clapped for you, worried over you. Loved you. Loves you now and always will.

We are having hard times. Your dad and I are really struggling together. Our spirits are worn, we break easy.

On the brighter side, we're planning a Christmas party at Jim and Patty's for the neighborhood. I have a lot of work to do, but you know this is fun for me. I need to start making lists and checking things off.

Not enough sleep last night. Too much despair combined with Snood. Yuk.

Gotta call John Springer about your grave marker tomorrow. Don't let me forget.

I wonder if you have your baseball cap on out there in heaven or waiting-land, wherever you are. That's how I always picture you.

I've been sleeping with Henry-shirted Snoopy again. He is good to hug and hold.

Hugs and hugs,
Lady Mama


Sunday, 11/19/06 8 p.m.

Hi Sweetheart,

Well, here we are at Thanksgiving week. We'll be taking the meal to Lebanon. Everyone will be there. Except you.

Today Jeff preached about what a good year 2006 had been, how we have so much to be thankful for. I lost it. Cried like a baby in Patrick's arms. It's not that I don't have a lot to be thankful for - I do. I just miss you so much. This has been a helluva year.

We ordered your grave marker. We are thinking about whether the lettering should be gold or silver.

I bought Courtney's birthday present today. We're taking Isaac Saturday night, so I can give it to her then. I got her a watch with a pretty band make of ribbon, some Christmas earrings, and a sock monkey tree ornament.

I sent all the kids a Thanksgiving card with a leaf on it like the one I'm gluing on the next page.

I told Sophie, James, Isaac and Phin that I am thankful for each one of them. I'm trying to be a good grandma.

In our box at church today we found a copy of your memorial slide show and music from Jeff Grow! I'm so glad! I had pretty much given up on him doing that. Tomorrow I'll make copies for everyone.

Your dad was really sweet to me today. I felt like hiding out in our bedroom, so he brought me coffee and breakfast in there while I read my book. He even vacuumed! Then we went to Baja Fresh after church, and on errands after that. He waited patiently in the truck for me while I shopped for Courtney's birthday. Everything makes me cry lately - I cried because he was so nice to me.

At work we have been laughing over the words "pie bar." For some reason we find it fun and funny to say pie bar. I know you would too if you were with us. We thought Saturday how funny it would be to name your dog Pie Bar. We were blowing off steam because Saturday was so busy - another record day!

I miss your laugh. I am a mess lately. Too much self pity. I should get a grip. I could go play Snood now, re-read Blue Like Jazz, watch a Nature show about winter in Yellowstone, knit, do laundry..or just sit here. I could work on Michael's review. I have one hour before I should be in bed - 5 o'clock shift in the morning.

I still haven't gone back to my workout. No more oomph.

Here's a pretty thing I heard on the radio: there are fireflies in the world that flash their lights all together. Synchronized flashing by the thousands! This thrills me.

God hold you and keep you safe,
Love, Mama

Wednesday, 11/22/06 11:30 p.m.

Hi Punkin,

I just got back from Meg's. Dave was over there because they're going to the beach tomorrow for Thanksgiving. Meg and I don't get together much even though we live so close to each other. Meg is having a hard time with Steve. His breathing is so bad now. He only lies in bed all the time and watches TV and reads magazines. She said he hasn't been downstairs in a month. This trip to the beach is a big thing - Meg's hoping it'll encourage him.
It was nice to be there in part of the bosom of my family.

I've been playing Snood a lot lately. So has your dad. It seems to be an escape that is sometimes irresistible.

The other day a customer told me he was sorry about our losing you. He said he'd lost his son a year ago; the son was 23. I asked him how he was doing, and he told me not too bad after months of counseling and antidepressants.
Not me. I have quite an attitude about antidepressants.

Let's see, what news can I tell you? Oh yeah, Kramer went nuts. Or, rather, Michael Richards. He kept yelling at people during his act at a club in LA, calling them niggers over and over. He's in deep doo doo. You would have been amazed to see that clip.

Arden just turned 10, but he's having teenager symptoms. He called his mom a bitch and his dad an asshole the other day. Grant said it was all he could do to keep from laughing.

Speaking of Grant, he's interviewing for a research job in Anacortes on Tuesday. Wouldn't that be something if he ended up living there? He's going to spend the night at Rose's house. She warned him that she has "a new man in her life" and that the house is redecorated with Norwegian stuff. I'm sure all signs of Dad are long gone.

I never told her about you. I feel kind of bad about that. It's a hard conversation to have.

I hope Casey is doing alright, and Adam. I'll see them tomorrow, hopefully. I'll let you know.
It's cold tonight, and wet. Feels like winter.

And I'm sad. There is a long road of sadness ahead. It seems to go on forever.

I am thankful for you, Henry.
Love, Mama

Thanksgiving Day, 11/23/06 10 p.m.

Hi Sweet Henry,

I just ordered something special to put at your grave: three glass balls, each on a stake, with luminous paint specks inside so they will glow after sunset.

Part of me wants to avoid that spot. Part of me wants to make it the most beautiful spot on earth. I guess reality will be a pretty humble attempt, but whatever I accomplish is intended to be an expression of my love for you..our family's great love for our Henry. Anyone who wanders by will know for sure that you are loved and missed.

Our day in Lebanon was fine. Grandma and Grandad are looking pretty old and tired, but maybe that's no surprise with all the chaos that descended upon them. Adam and Amanda are pregnant with their third child. Casey seems to be doing better, but it's hard to tell.

We had ham. I know, I know, but trust me, it was super good. Dad made green beans for you.

Packy discovered today that he weighs 200 lbs. That's about 20-30 pounds more than he thought. We worry about him so much. A diet of beer and not enough sleep - a bad combo. I remember how you came to us a few days before you died, sharing with us your concern for your brother. His drinking is worse now than it was then, I think. At least he doesn't keep it a secret from us.

Yesterday I found myself checking the door, thinking any minute you were going to walk in. I would be overjoyed. I would cry out, "I KNEW it!"

Your dad says that's what we'll say when we see you in heaven.

I keep wanting to make my pen draw a picture of you, but I can't. I can't draw. But if I could it would feel kind of like I was creating you.

I'm sort of nuts. I feel a little bit numb tonight.

Please, Henry. Please, please come back.
-Mama Pajama


Friday, 11/24/06 10:30 p.m.

Dear Sweetheart,

I'm so sleepy that I'm barely conscious. I played Snood tonight until 10 o'clock - took me that long to get on the board. When I close my eyes I see those little Snood things. It's a good escape, playing Snood.

Tomorrow night we'll have Isaac over. I'll tell you all about it. Now I'd better just go to bed. The room is spinning with tiredness.

Goodnight, Sweet-Smile Boy.
Love, Mama Pajama


Sunday, 11/26/06 9 a.m.

Dear Hen Ben,

Isaac is playing on the rug in front of me as I write. He's wearing his new Thomas the Train pj's. As usual, he hasn't eaten much this weekend. "Two fries" he says, holding up three fingers last night, ignoring the steak, cauliflower and zucchini. This morning part of one pancake and two scrambled eggs. He really enjoyed some black cherry juice last night and a late night snack of cheddar cheese and crackers. We had to watch two movies last night: Charlie Brown Thanksgiving (always the #1 choice) and 101 Dalmations. We went to bed at 10:00. He wanted to sleep with Snoopy, but insisted on taking your shirt off. ("Snoopy doesn't wear a shirt!") So I slept with your shirt and he slept with Snoopy until 5 a.m. Then he slept with Grandma.

He hasn't said a word about you this time. I've mentioned you several times (when your daddy was here I used to flap his ears too) but there's been no response.

Courtney and Isaac went to Seattle Friday and Saturday. They went ice skating, to the Children's Museum and to the Nutcracker.

Courtney says Freemans invited her on a cruise in January. Freemans are paying for their whole LIFE group to go. I'm glad she's going.

I told Isaac I was writing a letter to you, and asked if he'd like to write something to you also. He smiled and took my pen. He wrote his name, as you can easily see; then he drew a picture of himself in bed, with a monster dinosaur about to eat him.

He asked if we could go to Aunt My-My's. All the kids love your sister.

Isaac is banging on the piano. Kids take a lot of energy, huh? Bess I'd getter go.

Love, Mama Pajama :)


Sunday, 11/26/06 9:30 p.m.

Dear Henry,

I've had the familiar Sunday blues today. Don't know why. Partly it's because I've had a tough sinus headache yesterday and today. Maybe I get blue on Sundays because of all the things I don't get done. Also I feel bad because I'm not exercising anymore. Getting fat and flabby.

And I feel blue because every day you are still gone.

Tomorrow I'm opening, of course, so I should go to bed. I'll be Jim's 5 o'clock girl.

I just don't have any gumption anymore. Maybe I'll find some tomorrow. I'm sure I'll find at least enough to get the things that need doing at work done.

Love, Moomers

Tuesday, 11/28/06 9:15 p.m.

Sweetheart,

Too sleepy to write much. LIFE group was about realizing we can't accept God's love until we love ourselves. We have to let God love us so we can love him back.

You didn't think God loved you, maybe. You sure didn't love yourself. I sure love you, though. We all do.

Last night I dreamed about a tiny mouse made out of a scone that bit me. I'm weird and pooped.

-Mama

Thursday, 11/30/06 8:30 p.m.

Dear Hen Ben,

I just wrapped a couple of Patrick's birthday presents. I can't feel the same anticipation I used to because you won't be there. Same with my Christmas preparations. If I'm making the same thing for each of you, I count it out..Patrick, Henry..oh yeah, no Henry. I guess you're gonna save me money this year.

I'm giving Meg, Dave, Paula, Saul, Myra and Pack framed copies of the drawing you did of my Dad. They turned out really nice.

It was slow at work today so I was able to leave at 12:30 - a rare treat. I'm so tired, so lethargic lately. Paula tells me it's normal. I feel like I'm sinking into a deep hole.

Sorry, honey, I'm no fun to be with lately.
-Mama


Saturday, 12/2/06 10:40 p.m.

Sweetheart,

Can't go to bed without telling you how much I love you. How can I hold on to you? I can't let you go.
Tomorrow we'll party for Pack.

I love you, Baby the George,
Mama Pajama

Sunday, 12/3/06

Hello Love,

As you know, I am a goofus once again. I assumed that everyone could read my mind and know that we were celebrating Pack's birthday today. Luckily, Myra called to check. I left Saul a message at 9 a.m., but I guess he never picked it up because he didn't come or call. But it was a nice party anyway. We gave Pack a heating seat cushion for his car, plus a couple other silly things..three bottles of diet coke and some Mentos, among other things. You would have enjoyed our little science experiment.

I cried in church again today, but not uncontrollably.

Here's the thing I don't like to say out loud or think, but I feel: we let you down in some fundamental way. We screwed up. I know your note said there was nothing we did wrong. But I know there were many things we did wrong. I know this.

I find this hard to live with.

Tonight I selected and cut out the pictures for Pack's scrapbook. If I get to come home at 1:00 tomorrow, maybe I'll work on it then. I might have to stay all day though because Amanda's grandmother died Friday night. Amanda didn't come to work Saturday, which is understandable. It was tough though because it was the Umpqua Bank promo day - they bought everyone's food and drink from 9 - 12:15. We did $1380 in that time!

Don't worry, I'm going to try to buck up. I can hear you telling me, no mama, it's not your fault. I know everyone makes mistakes. And I know our family needs me to be strong and whole. I promise, Henry, I will trust God to get me through this.

I love you so much, my sweet precious boy. My quiet, funny Henry.

Today is your wife's birthday. She is 25. Her family took her out for lunch today. She told me she really likes the presents I gave her.

She gave Patrick a birthday present of a Red Robin gift card and movie tickets. That was nice of her. I told Pack that I want to treat Courtney like our daughter-in-law as long as she'll let me. You two were not divorced when you died. I know it looked like that was inevitable, but you never know. Anyway, I care about her. I feel a responsibility towards her.

I guess I should go to bed, although for once I'm not sleepy.

Are you near? I wish I knew.
Goodnight Sweetheart

P.S. Saturday was another record!
P.P.S. I'm still up. 4:15 a.m. is going to happen soon. Oh well. Here's a copy of the email I got from Courtney. It means a lot to me. And here are pictures of your plaque installed by the office at Sonrise in Ghana.

Tuesday, 12/5/06 9:45 p.m.

Dear Henry,

Good LIFE group tonight. We let our guards down a bit more than usual. I cried. I showed them Saul and Myra's scrapbooks. Your pop didn't do a lesson - we just talked. Also, he made really, really good chile,

Today Amanda called me to tell me she can't work Thursday, Saturday, Monday or Tuesday. I said fine, of course. Then I went into the stock room and cried.

I feel strained like I might break...it feels like I have so much weight on me.

You have all the time in the world to listen to my groaning and griping, right?

Sorry, honey. I keep crying. I'd better go. I love you. Where's my Henry hug?

-Mama
P.S. Today is Carryl Norton's birthday.

Thursday, 12/7/06 11 p.m.

Sweetheart,

There was such a beautiful sunrise this morning. Your father said it was a message of love from you. He, Pack and I all ached for you today. Six months. Six months. My sweet precious Henry. This time six months ago I was lying in bed, clutching your t-shirt, waiting to hear news that I already knew in my heart. That night - and the following days - was filled with such an unreal horror. It seemed unreal, but it was true. It was really happening.

Courtney and Isaac are going to spend Christmas Day with us! Isn't that great? We'll take good care of her, honey, don't you worry.

I keep telling you the same old sad complaints. It's because my heart is broken every day.

-Mama Pajama