{Dear Matt}

The fourteenth of October was the second anniversary of the day Matt died.. so I sat down and wrote him a letter. Simply because.. sometimes writing is the only way of dealing with missing him.



Dear Matt,

Two years-- it seems like an ETERNITY since we last drank coffee and talked. On the other hand, I can recall our last conversation in a heartbeat. I've said it so many times but.. you wouldn't believe the lengths I would go to talk with you just once more.

It's hard to believe everything that's happened and changed since you died.

On the way home from class a couple weeks ago, I zoned out and suddenly found myself parked in front of your old house. The FOR SALE sign glaring at me from the front lawn, it had been a couple of months since I'd been there. Whether it was too surreal or too real to be there I can't be sure. All it took was stepping onto the driveway to flashback to the night you died.
Clear as day I could hear, "Ma'am? Are you a relative?" The crunching of the leaves echoed hauntingly in my memory and the October wind swirled around me as I clawed at the air, fighting the paramedic who restrained me from running to your body. The image of Dad and Mom's faces surfaced, filled with a devastation I'd never seen before. The dread of knowing Mike would be there in minutes and feel the same crushing heartbreak I was feeling was excruciating.
"He's gone, Mel, he's gone," Dad repeated as his voice trembled. Looking back, I think he was saying it to himself as well as myself, struggling to wrap his mind around the horrific blow that had been delivered.
Next were flashes of sitting in the ambulance, shivering and vomiting. Oh, the vomiting. I thought it would never end.

The flashback was interrupted by a voice behind me, "Can I help you?"
I turned to see a real estate agent standing, paperwork in hand, with a warm smile on her face.
Before I could answer she asked, "Are you interested in taking a look inside the house?"
Pain wriggled through me as I hesitantly replied, "Yeah, I am."
I could've told her then my brother had passed away and this was his house but I just wanted to walk through it without having her eyes locked on me in pity the entire time.
She walked toward the garage and opened the door. Stepping through the doorway, I felt my heart skip.
"As you can see, this is the garage.." and I'm sure she said some other things too but my own thoughts were too loud to listen to her.
I know this is the garage, lady, my brother died in here, I wanted to snap at her. I bit my tongue and nodded.
She led me through the house and, by the end of the tour, I'm quite sure she thought I was nuts. I couldn't help but stare into each room and reminisce and just try to feel your presence there again.

No matter where I go, I run into people that knew you or knew of you.

So often I find myself delving into the past and reliving memories of you. Just for the record.. whoever said this would get easier is a total idiot. It doesn't.. it gets WORSE.

It's so hard to believe that Grandma will be gone soon. She'll be.. with you. I'm going to miss her so much. During the last conversation I had with her she said she couldn't wait to see you again.. and Tommy.. and Lisa.. and Grandpa. She'll get to meet Anne Marie's little baby Tina.. and my Harper & Paxton. A pang of jealousy shot through me as I told her to give you all hugs and kisses. I would LOVE to be able to see you give her a hug when she gets to Heaven.
She squeezed my hand and said, "Don't worry.. before you know it we'll all be together again." I, of course, lost it at that point and started bawling. Is it weird I wish we could fast forward to that day?! To when we can all be in one place.. with no more tears, no more goodbyes.. just lots of love and laughter. (You'll know me-- I'll be the one that won't stop hugging you. Remember how I used to hang onto you and never leave your side when we were little? You can look forward to that all over again! :P)

How crazy is it that you've held two of my babies before I've even met them? Knowing you would be up there, rocking them and taking care of them.. was the only thing that consoled me after losing them. Given their DNA, I'm sure 'double trouble' doesn't begin to cover them, does it? :) I doubt they ever go very far from you. Thank you for taking care of them until I get there.

 

You'd be so proud of Mike. You wouldn't BELIEVE what he's had to overcome these past two years. Gina, Isabel and Julia are so big. Gina is ten.. TEN!!! Doesn't it seem like she was a tiny baby like five minutes ago?! Mike is so good with them.. but that's nothing new.

You saw firsthand what he endured through the years. It's an absolute miracle he has emerged from that situation being good-hearted and without bitterness. He's happy now.. but he misses you a lot. He and I have never been closer than we are now. I know I could never take the place in his heart reserved for you, nor would I ever try. It kills me though, to see how deep his grief for you goes.. and there's nothing I can do about it.

He wrote me a note when we were in church a couple weeks ago that made me cry like a baby. There was a little space between the two of us and his note said, "Matt is sitting in between us, Mellie. Isn't that good to think about?" He thinks about you constantly. I worry about him because he's gotten so good at being tough.

Dad and Mom are doing pretty good. They have good and bad days of course. You are always, always on their minds. I can see it in their eyes. Even when we're not talking about you.. we are missing you. The grief hangs in the air. Some days we cope better than others but it's always just.. there.

Patrick, Anna and Ella are getting so big! Hard to believe Ella was only six months old when you died. She talks about you EVERY day though. She'll walk up to a picture of you and just talk and talk.. like you guys are having a conversation or something. Anna has vowed to learn to play the guitar "just like Uncle Matt" and Patrick wants to hear stories about when we were little every night when I tuck him in. They love you lots!

Since your death-- Dad, Mom, Mike and I-- we are so much stronger. We're already bound together as a family but the grief and love for you has made us all so much closer. I really believe your parting gift to us was to ignite a fire in each of us to love each other no matter what, to stick up for each other through thick and thin.

I'm taking EMT classes now. I've never told anyone this but.. since the night you died, I have a panic attack every time I hear a ambulance siren. So I forced myself to take these classes. I literally find myself grabbing onto the table in front of me when the instructor talks about asthma and airway emergencies. Hits too close to home. I can't wait to be a paramedic though.. I think you'd be proud of me.

I fell in love with your best friend. I'm sure that makes you chuckle.. you know how difficult and stubborn I am. He can put up a pretty good fight too though. :) He makes me laugh SO hard. Long before he and I were what we are now.. he was the one that was there for me and helped me through the impossible. One thing I love about him is how loyal he is to you-- in life and death. We have been through some NONSENSE together (by 'nonsense' I am doing some hardcore censoring).. and I'm really looking forward to the future.

I've learned so much the past couple of years. Sometimes I get so sad wishing I could talk things over with you and you'd be here to reassure me things will be ok. I swear sometimes I can actually feel you with me and there is a moment of total peace. I just have to realize you ARE here with us.. but in a different way now.

I love you to the moon & back!

--Mellie

p.s. Thanks for the rainbow at the race! :)