Just A Note

Apart from telling my children that their brother had killed himself, I believe the next hardest thing I had to do was to show them his body. Each child handled it in their own way. One child saw flowers from their birthparents (sent by a bio grandmother) and began to smash the flowers everywhere. That child's reaction was exactly my reaction too, but I wanted my children to decide if they wanted these people to be a part of Jeff's death. And each of them did not. The flowers were removed just as their parents had been so many years ago....
When we first met these children- it was so easy to fall in love with them. I have to admit though, it was Jeff who was the hardest. He was so angry at being taken away from his bio parents. Angry not because they were good parents, but angry because he didn't get a say and he didn't get to say good-bye. He especially hated his mother. He was never able to express exactly what she had done to him and so I never pressured, I just held him when he cried, and tried to understand his moods when he did not. For years Jeff felt tremendous guilt over his bio dad walking away. He never got it resolved in side his heart or his head. Even the day before his death, I told him I would help him get to see his bio dad, but Jeff couldn't deal with him. He couldn't face the possible rejection. He couldn't face the hurt.Tim and I had presented Jeff with the opportunity to see his bio dad at least three times in his life, but each time, Jeff chose not too. The hurt was simply too deep. I know he needed to resolve the issue, but he could not nor would he talk to a counselor about it.
And that hurt was one of the few issues that tore Jeff up inside. That is what attachment disorder syndrome  does to a child. Jeff couldn't attach to anyone without worrying about if he could handle a relationship and the love or lack there of that came with it. jeff simply had learned not to trust because the adults in his life had done so much damage prior to his fifth years of life, that Jeff learned how to say what people wanted him to say and to do what they wanted him to do without putting any real, true emotion into the relatioonship. Jeff needed to be loved, but he needed it on his terms. The more we loved him, the more he pushed away. The older he got, the more a true nonconditional love relationship cost him mentally- he just couldn't deal. And for that I am sorry because Jeffrey was so loveable and so unique- his mere presence made you want to be a part of his world. He lit up a room just by smiling- I miss that- I think I will always miss that and him. Knowing about jeff's illness doesn't make his death easier, but it does permit us some understanding into why Jeff did this and truthfully, it alleviates some of my guilt. But never will all of the guilt go away.
The reason I address Jeff's hurt of  losing his birth parents and the wound that never heals, is not to lay the blame of Jeff's death on them (I have prayed for them alot over the years), but to help a society and a social service system see that the there are some huge flaws in removing a child from their parents and never allowing any sort of explaination or closure. It is a wound then opened and lead to fester if unresolved in a child's mind- a child who is neither equipped with the emotions to handle such a lossor has the little mind to totally comprehend it. It is a bond that clearly breaks the child as well. Thus it can lead to an adult who is tramatized and cannot function in a normal, healthy relationship. I believe that each child, whenever possible, should be told exactly why the parent is being removed from their lives, the reasons, and that they should be able to say good-bye either in person or a letter or letters. This would bring about a closure for that child. This would bring about an opening for future parents and enable them some sort of ability to heal a hurt. It would help solidify a relationship into a permentant bond that could be trusted and build and grow- not just enough to get by.
Jeff was a beautiful lover. He could love with a love so fierce that it was frightening. He was loyal, respectful, and loving. Think of how much more he could be if he was allowed or moved to let go of unfounded guilt. Would I be writing a blog about his death? I guess I'll never know....
A Note: Jeff's bio parents blame Tim and I for Jeff's death. They have said that I wouldn't allow them at the funeral. This is not true- it was my choice- nor did I make it. But it is important to know that we would never ever blame anyone for Jeff's death. They gave Jeff life and in this day and age of disposable children that is a huge thing.Without them, we would never been able to love our oldest son for the thirteen years that God allowed us too.....

My Owl...Katie Aronin

I have never slept well. I've never been able to get all that has to be done out of my mind long enough to let go and sleep well. But the nights went from ocassional sleeplessness to none at all after Jeff took his own life. I started to have nightmares the very minute that sleep overcame me and I wake up in a sweat. I would dream he was there and I couldn't find him. I would dream he was still alive but then discover he wasn't. I would just keep dreaming about him all night. But the worst part of the not sleeping was the sleeping and then waking up. I would open my eyes at the new beautiful day, stretching with amazing ideas of the day to come, only to get to that last stretch and  realize that my nightmares were true and my son was dead. It was the worst feeling and it pretty much set the tone of the whole day. Tim wanted me to take something to make me sleep, but I'm pretty ditsy to start with and I figured heavy meds wouldn't be a great idea. So I would wander and cry. And cry and wander.The grief was so overwelming. The darkeness so overpowering...no Light could come. I seriously thought that it was going to eat me alive as well. All the questions, all the opinions, all the answers, all the planning, all the people...it was all bundled in my mind all night long.
And the night before Jeff's visitation was no different; except I had what noone else had and that was my best friend in the whole world...my Katie Ronin. Katie is a night owl, she is my daughter's mother-in-law, my Grandson's Nana, she is my protecter, my keeper of the secrets, my whatever friend. So every night when I was breaking down...I would go downstairs and Katie would be waiting for me on the couch to tell all of my hysteria to. She would talk and listen to me for hours and hours and never judge, never fix it, never pretend that it was going to be okay.
 Katie knew it wouldn't be okay, not for a long while. She had been with me this whole, long dark road with Jeff. She knew how hard I'd tried, she knew how much I'd been hurt. When Jeff first began to be truly unstable and his moods worsened and changed from day to day and finally he left that day in August- I was crushed. Crushed to the bone and so tired. Jeff had sucked the life out of us for so long. We had tried to get him help. Tried to get him to see he needed help. But in the state of Michigan an 18 year old child doesn't get help unless he hurts someone or himself- (which eventually he did both).We had fought as a family to get him where he needed to be in college and get him started to adulthood only to be robbed of it by him and other "well-meaning" people. Tim and I were finally going to have a chance to see Jeff succeed and start a new life at Cornerstone, but Jeff walked away. In fact  he ran away leaving a family full of scars and faced with a memory so permiated in our minds that we were reeling as if he actually had died then. My children were left crying, I had bumps and bruises. We had been put in a dramatic situation and people chose sides...it was awful- just awful. Oh, he went to Cornerstone, but he didn't want to and he yelled that to our whole family that day in August.. He hated to run. Hated to study. Hated to be away from home unless he was angry. He hated anything that made him a success. He hated rules. He hated people depending on him- depending on him for anything. He was very self destructive and would, could, and did ruin whatever good came his way- even our family life. And when he walked out our door and publically humiliated our family, and hurt us emotionally, physically, and spiritually- Tim and I felt like failures and worse than that we still kept trying to help him because we loved him so much- we just couldn't let go. We asked to get the charges dropped (which they wouldn't),. We begged the PA to get him some mental help. We even gave him money every month to get him through college. But all to no avail. The only thing I've ever regretted about adopting Jeff was that I couldn't ever have his "firsts"...his first walk, words, potty training, bottle...all of the "firsts" a birth mother gets. I couldn't function for nearly two months after he trashed us and left. My baby hated me- he told me so- he told everyone...many lies and not much truth...
So finally in the fall, Tim made some plans and I went to stay with Katie in Wisconsin. She met me at the ferry and I spent the most restful, peaceful week that I believe I've ever had. We didn't "do" anything...we just talked and talked and bonded. She made me feel at home in her home. It wasn't perfect. But what she had she shared and I loved her for letting me into her world when mine was in such a mess. That's how Katie feels- she feels like home wherever she is and wherever you are with her. That was how Katie was and still is.
So it was of no surprise to any of us when she hopped in her car and drove the six hours to be with me. And that what she was- Katie was with me. She made sure that I was taken care of every minute of everyday. She protected me from people who made me nervous, fielded my phone calls, and just stayed with me. many years ago my friend lost her cherished husband to cancer very unexpectedly and spent the next sevreal years in grief recovery so she had a pile of info just stored up to relate to me each night I came to her.
And come I did. The night before Jeff's visitation I was as frightened as I'd ever been. "It's all my fault...I should've tried harder..." and I ran to her and wept....just wept. I got no sleep- so she got no sleep...

I wish I had words to describe how much I love her and I wish now today that I could get on that ferry and go and see her now. I am so emotionally exhausted. I am frightened. Frightened that tomorrow will come and it will be much like today. Awkwardness feeds every dreaded moment that I have to leave this house. The words that are said."The how are you doings?" and my fake, "We're getting through"...When what I really want to say is, "How do you think I'm doing...my son just came home and I mothered him and loved him to my heart's content for a whole week and then outta the blue, he killed himself. I can't sleep. I can't pray. I am empty emotionally. Every song that comes on reminds me of him. I am afraid. I am alone in a room full of people. I need to lay on the couch and cry at least five days a week. I need a quiet place to rest my head. I need my mother. I need a break from a life that has frightened me so much that I cannot even wrap my heart around never seeing my son again. I need to see him. I need to rub his little head. I need to sing his lullaby. I need my Katie Ronin- my Bff...the only one besides Melissa who truly gets it and me...."

My Boss, My Neighbor, My Friend

There are some people who come into your life for a little while, some people who come into your life biologiacally and you're stuck with them,, and some people who somehow have always been there even though they're not family and you haven't known them that long. The latter of these people are who Phares and Lori Courtney are. They are our friends. They are our neighbors. They are our family. I cannot begin to even explain how much Lori Courtney (and Phares) have helped our family. They have given me a space in their business where I can live out my dream of being a seamstress. They have parented my children especially Jeff . They have given to us as neighbors helping out when they could. But mostly they have been our friends. Friendship isn't easy for a family as large as ours and living next door to our brood is probably a challenge at best. They really know exactly what, when, and where it's going on...like it or not. Lori would do anything she could to make a situation better. And she does it with thoughtfulness and logic...logic is usually not in my character makeup...nope...not at all. So when I say that Lori Courtney literally saved my sanity the night before Jeff's visitation- I am not lying. God placed her at the right place at the right time because I was going down the crazy road and I was going down fast.
Tim and I pulled in from our funeral home visit exhausted both emotionally and physically. I hadn't slept for two days, hadn't eaten, and was barely coping. Lori and Phares were just coming by the driveway when we pulled in. Tim and I got out to chat and at first I was okay, but then when I began to explain that we had just come back from seeing Jeff, I began to falter. I felt as if I was collapsing. My sister Melissa, who was also there, looked at me with sad doe eyes as Lori reached in, helped me up, and took me into the house. I began to weep, really weep uncontrolably. "I can't do this...I can't do this...", I kept saying over and over. I couldn't be controlled. "This is all my fault...no...it is...", I wept. And I was babbling lunacy.
Lori looked at me with tears in her eyes and said firmly, "Yes you can do this. You are doing this. Listen to me- listen. You are a good mother. Jeff loved you. He came back to you. He told you. He was happy. You have to pull yourself out of this enough to mother your other kids and help Tim. They need you." She stood firm even when I tried to argue. "Nope, you're gonna do this. We are all here to help. It's going to be okay... not today, but someday." and I looked into her eyes and I felt safe- almost mothered and certainly sistered. She talked to me for close to a half hour that night. I have never felt so close to the brink of losing it then when I told her how freaked out I was that Jeff was there, alone in that dark place, without me, and how I wanted to break in and stay with him. And she never judged and she never found fault. She just stood firm in the fact that I was stronger than I thought. And to this day everytime I look at her, especially when she's had a rough day, I thank God for her, and all that she is. She took a scared broken mother and turned her back into a wife and a parent. She made me feel sane in an insane situation.
The other thing alot of people don't know about Lori and Phares is their forgiving hearts. Jeff had perhaps caused them a little bit of trouble about a year ago. They had no reason to believe what he told them about the situation, they had pretty solid evidence. But Jeff came to them, gave an explanation, and they took him at his word. So much so that on the Monday that Jeff committed suicide, he was to start a job working for the. When no one else would hire Jeff because of a bad record that he had acumulated over a six month period a couple of years ago, Lori and Phares did. They were willing to take a chance. They didn't have to- no one would find fault with them if they didn't- they just chose to. Because that is who they are- good kind hearted, loving neighbors, willing to help anybody, anytime they can.

Facing Jeff

The room seemed huge and long and scary. We inched our way ever so close to his casket- the casket we'd picked out just two days ago. It was nice- nice, what was I thinking? The closer I got, the more I could see Jeffy clearly. It was him...there he was...and my heart lept for joy. Some where deep inside myself I had crept. The closer I got- the more I began to see my little boy...not the one who had shot himself and was all bloody. But I saw Jeffy...my sweet little boy from so many years ago. I almost ran the rest of the way to the casket. I began to rub his little forehead and touch his smooth skin. "You see Tim- you see how Jeff looks so good?" Tim looked at me with intent eyes and just stared. I took his little hand and held it...and that's when I began to talk to Jeff as if he was really there. I began to cry- weep really, and tell him that I missed him so and that I was so glad that he was safe. I began to pour out all of the things I needed to tell him as I rubbed his little hair and caressed his little face. We stood forever it seemed and for the first time in three days- I could breath, and I could think and I could relax. I have my Jeffy back! I know- it sounds pretty far fetched right now, and really unrealistic, but to me- I could see him and that was good enough. I could mother him once again. I could sing and touch and caress my little boy. MY LITTLE BOY! I thought I had lost him, but here he was...just laying here and I could see him.....
"We have to go...Kari...Kari...it's time to go home now...", Tim said softly as I snapped back to where we were and why.
"No, we are NOT GOING...I am not leaving him..", I began to pull away...and the more I struggled- the more Tim pulled. "You cannot make me leave him ...you cannot..." and I began to really fight him. Now I've went a little bat crackers with Tim before ( when we lost Bill, our last child, my mother), but never ever had I lost my sense of reality. To me though this was Jeff and he was here and I was not going to leave my baby again.
"I'm not leaving him here in the dark", I began to sob....."Tim, you know he's scared of the dark and he's cold, and...." and I realized then that he was dead...alll over again the dread came back...the scary, uncontrollable grief. "If you just give me a minute", and I pulled my arm away from Tim...I caressed Jeffy one more time and I could feel myself once again being consumed by him. His beautiful handsome face. The one I'd laughed with, loved, wiped tears away, saw such joy in, angry frustrated faces....no I was going to pick him up and take him home.
 Tim began to pull harder..."No- I jerked my arm back....I'd rather have him at home like this than not at all....", I pleaded. But it was to no avail....Tim was going to make me leave. "then, you promise me that he will be okay....." I began to shake uncontrolably- "PROMISE ME!"
"I promise", he said gently....
 and so I walked away...I walked away from him again and it was killing me.... KILLING ME... and I couldn't stop it. I fled to the car...I don't know what I said or did to Scott... Tim began to drive home. I started sobbing and yelling," Oh, my gosh..." over and over and over...
This is all your fault...this is all your fault...I could hear it over and over in my head as Tim drove. As we drove and pulled into our driveway- Tim looked at me and screamed, "What is wrong with you? Why are you reacting like this..." Tim never ever yells- he hardly ever raises his voice and so I snapped back to reality once again.
"How am I supposed to react- I found him dead- and now he's here-" I started.
"Wait, what? You-YOU found him, but I thought that the EMT's found him and you just came upon the scene...." he looked at me like a lost little boy- like the failure that I already felt that I was.
"YES...Melissa and I came upon his car and he....he...was...he...he..shot...," and I blurted out the whole sorted mess to Tim in the driveway and he began to sob too. He was mad. Mad because he hadn't protected me from it. Mad because he hadn't realized what I saw and why the blood had such an imprint on my mind and body...Mad because Jeff did this and finally....Mad because he too may have failed Jeff.
And that's when I knew..I knew - that I had to survive this...that I had to get my "poop in a group" because if Tim was scared and guilty and mad then he was feeling everything I was. And there was no way I was going to let him go through this hell alone. I loved him too much. And he deserved better than he was getting from me. Maybe the other kids didn't want or need me right now, but Tim needed me. He'd seen me through the deaths of my husband, mother, four children, and alot of other stuff. I'd be dogged if I was going to let him down. And so I held him- I soothed him...I began to love and find my friend again. I began to summon up every mothering skill I had and mother my best friend and hold him and caress him...we would be okay...not great for now, but okay...better yet, I could survive this...I had to...because Tim...my Tim really needed me and I would never ever let him down. He was and is everything I could ever want in a man, but most of all, he is my best friend....and so I began to pray - really pray for my husband and children...I wasn't exactly talking on intimate terms with God, but I knew He'd take care of this husband and these children...I knew he would....

Seeing Jeff and Answered ???'s

I began to feel a strong alienation from the kids- especially Tierney. They weren't sharing. They weren't talking. Worst of all- they weren't letting me mother them. And I needed to mother them so much. I felt alienated from Tim too. He wasn't dealing with this at all. He was angry. And since I was guilty and totally sad, for the first time in 20 years of marriage we were strangers. It is very hard to have your best friend also be your dead child's father. Tim couldn't be my friend...he couldn't be anything...all he could be was in the kitchen cleaning and it was clean- every minute of every day. And so the lonliness and alienation continued. it continued through shopping at Target for clothes- it continued through the day...it continued until that night when Tim and I had to go visit Jeff at the funeral home and see him alone for the first time, since we saw him all bloody in the car.
We tried not to be nervous. But we were...
And so Tim grabbed my hand and we prayed....
Together, hand in hand, we went into the funeral home. It was quiet- so deathly quiet. Scott ushered us into his office and we began to talk about Jeff and his service the next day. I began to ask all kinds of questions. Did he get the autopsy back? Was it an accident? Was it quick? He didn't suffer, did he?  I watched Scott's face and he looked at me and then at Tim. "You though this could be an accident?" He looked totally puzzled. When we explained that we had been told that the shot was a chest wound- Scott then got an awful sorry look on his face. "No this was no accident. It was definately a purposeful, quick self inflicted head wound."
I felt like I was going to throw up. So all of my hopes that Jeff didn't mean to do this were gone. He had meant to do this and he had meant to do this intentionally. Scott explained that because there was so much blood, that possibly before the EMT's got into the car- they may have thought they were dealing with a chest wound. But it was not. It was most assuredly not. My son..my little boy, had shot himself inthe back of the throat- completely blowing a hole in the top of his head. In 99% of the cases of this kind of wound, their face is completely blown up. But Jeff was the 1%. his face was totaly intact. Thus this meant that they were able to get his eyes and now two people in Ohio could see. They got tissue and saved many other lives as well.
My mind was reeling.
I don't remember much after that ...I was in some kind of a morbid shock. All I could think of was that Jeff had meant to kill himself. My one shred of hope was gone. As far as I was concerned this finalized my guilt and I pronounced myself guilty.
"Are you ready to go in?" Tim asked as I realized that we were at the door to the visitation room. Ooh no- back to reality...and so I nodded numbly as we walked into face Jeff's body and my night of total insanity.

The Guilt

The people came from everywhere...they came and they hugged and they soothed and they helped, but I couldn't remember who and from where. I still can't. I knew that I was in a room full of people and always felt alone...so very alone. My son, my little boy whom I'd try so hard to love was gone. And the guilt- the evil, life sucking guilt became more  and more apparent each passing moment of each passing day. I became more aware than ever of every single decision I had ever made with my son. Did I try hard enough? Should I have begged him to come home? Should I have chased him down and begged him to come home? I tried. I called him in storms because I worried so about him. I called him personal storms to try and help. I tried to include him in every holiday. But I got tired, tired of chasing a young man who never wanted to be caught. And so I gave up. I had given up on ever reaching him and making him see how much we loved and needed him. For every time he visited- he'd leave me a bad note or ignore me the next time he saw me in public. It was just too hard- loving him was just sooo hard. His constant rejection of me began to tear me apart and I couldn't be a good mother or wif to the rest of the kids- heck I culdn't be anything. And so I just stopped. if he came over- we welcomed him- if he didn't we prayed. At least we always had prayer. And now here I was, left with this emptiness that I was sure was about to consume me. I could remember all of the bad times and none of the good. So they were right- I concluded- all of the "Jeffites" were right- I was a bad mother and I did suck. I could name names of the people who always had a negative opinion about how Tim and I parented but it doesn't matter.  And now it really never will. They were right- I was wrong. But the guilt was awful and sometimes it still is. I made a choice a long time ago that when I grew up, I wanted to be a wife and a mother. I didn't want to be mediocre- I wanted to be spectacular, even if it meant giving up all of my personal hopes and dreams. And I have given up a great many things, but God has a way of giving a mother new dreams that fit better into her family's lifestyle.
So with Jeff's committing suicide I knew that I had failed. Afterall, wasn't it my fault that he left in the first place? He didn't want to follow the rules- rules that I made. Were they too hard to follow? Should I - could I have done something different? Everyday and everynight became a wrestle with my head and my heart to decide what exactly I had done wrong to make Jeff do this. And I wanted a "do over". How could he hate our life- a life that I created for our children- a life I always wanted as a child. A life where there was always a family meal at the table. A life where we always prayed together. A life where we went to every game and every event. A life where Tim and I wore Goodwill and our kids wore nikes. A world where we played games and helped the grandparents and taught morals and values. A life full of laughter and no drugs and no alcohol and no fighting and no yelling and no one leaves and everyone works together and stays married forever. That was our world- that was Jeff's world, and he rejected it time and time again and this time for good and it was my fault. The guilt became so bad that I couldn't eat and I couldn't sleep. I had no alone time because everyone was everywhere. I began to go crazy...I was losing it- really losing it and it was killing me. I couldn't love, I couldn't hug, I couldn't feel anything, but pain. This awful overwelming pain. How could he shoot his own self???? I saw his face everywhere- I felt his presence all over.
 And then God sent them to me. The people who knew- who really knew the hell we had went through with Jeff. God sent Trudy, Melissa, Teresa, and my Katie Aronin. And God sent Pastor Matt who ministered to Tim and I over and over again and assured us that this was not our fault. Pastor Matt who put as much into our son's life as much as we did, and never gave up even when we threw in the towel and let him do what he was going to do. Pastor Matt so young and so full of life that we put our children's spiritual well being into his hands because he was so close and had lived to have an awesome testimony already. He came and he cried and he ministered and he made the difference. He made me see that God was using this- that kids were going to get saved- that 6 lives that had already decided not to committ suicide- came to him and would not. Jeff's death had already made a difference ...he was saving lives.
And so this had a purpose...the guilt was still there and I was one raw nerve, but if I could hang onto some good in this mess..then I could get through the next few days...I had to because I was also someone else's mother too....    

My Sister Melissa (Mo) Leinhart-

I have experienced many things with my littlest sister Melissa. I spent many years mothering her, bossing her, and protecting her when we were young. I made her eat her veggies, drink her milk, and change her underwear. I have planned her wedding, helped her birth her babies, and stood with her in the loss of our Mother. But I never ever believe that we would bury one of our living children together. Thoughout the last two years, somehow, and I don't know how- God has changed our roles and it has been she who has been mothering and bossing me. I don't know where she got her wisdom from because neither of our parents seemed to use their noodle too much, but Melissa has become one of the wisest women I know. She thinks before she speaks, stands for what she believes, and always always does what needs to be done whether I or anyone else likes it. And I hadn't realized just what doing the right thing had cost my baby sister until she came into my house shortly after Jeff died, scooped up Katie-Grace, and took her upstairs so that we could tell our other children that Jeff had taken his life by his own hand.
As we told them, I was very aware that she was upstairs playing with my daughter. I could hear her animated voice pretending to be happy and lighthearted, but in truth- I knew she had to be dying inside. because although many people do not know this, she took in my son, put her family on the line, and loved him when I could not and he would not allow me too. For many, many months she mothered my Jeff and it wasn't with out its drawbacks. Because much of that time we were at odds my sister and I. I was very jealous that it was her he chose to go too in times of trouble and her that he loved and hugged. And her that got the best part of him that I missed so desperately . But she would not give up on him. She would not walk away even if it meant losing me. Melissa knew he needed her and I think God knew she would need those memories of closeness with him to get her through finding him.
When she came down the stairs with Katce, I remember looking her eyes and seeing for the first time that she had not just lost a nephew that day (hard enough for anyone), but that she too had lost a son...my son...OUR son...and my heart ached for her. I wanted to help her as I had for so many years, shelter her from the pain of life that goes along with children in very disfunctional homes. I wanted to take "it" all away- buy her new school clothes, take her with me on trips, protect her from the "boogie man" of our lives. But this time- this time I couldn't keep the monster away- I couldn't even begin to try- because this awful monster- this "Death" had swallowed me up whole too. I hurt for her that day and in the days that followed because I knew that she knew what I had lost because she lost it too. We found him together and the memory of his car, his blood, his hand, the gun, the fear, the grief, the pain, the lost, the huge lost feeling that will never ever go away. It is a memory and a bond that I believe that God allowed to happen because there was an assurance that together we could do this....we could face this death and we would live through it.
In each step I take in this walk, she is there, with me, next to me, holding my hand. Somehow these roles have been reversed and she has become the older sister and I  have become the younger one needing love and guidance and someone to shield me from this very real monster.
It hurts me that she hurts, it hurts me that Jeff did this to her, that he did this to me. But at the same time, it hurts me that we together, Melissa and I, cannot mother my son again, holding his hand, rubbing his lil head, and wiping away his tears.
We will get through this together she and I and at each step I will have a renewed love for her, a deeper respect for her, and a bond that not even death can part.
I love you baby Sister my lil Mobie (on our first Mother's day without him) I cannot even imagine having to have had to face that and these days alone. If I have to walk through this valley of shadow of death- I am grateful, so very grateful, that it is with you. For you have always been my greatest success....my baby sister...my friend...and I love you....

Trudy Mater

Coming home and telling the kids was over and we were numb. The news hit FB within minutes and our house became a madhouse of phone calls, visitors, family, friends, food....it was all so much. I couldn't think and if it wasn't for all of these people coming and helping I think I would have went crazy. They did everything. They answered the phone, organized, took care of the kids, did the laundry, talked with Tim, and just took over me. I felt so loved and so lost.
I remember the first thing I did was walk in and spy Jeff's pillow. I seized it and hung on to it for dear life. I could smell it...his smell...it was like he was still here. I tied to put it down- to stop the "Linus" thing, but I couldn't. No one would let me go downstairs by his things, and I really wanted to curl up in them and be lost in them. At times I felt like I was going into myself and not coming out. The reality of what had happened began to feel too surreal and I was unwinding fast. My sense of reality was quickly headed south. No compass..nothing to compare this with ...I was lost- so very very lost.
I think it was Trudy Mater who came first- she began to watch me freak and she said in her bravest voice," What do you need...what can I do for you...?"
 "A shower, I need a shower, but I am afraid to go by myself...I'm afraid to be alone.." I cried softly. "I wet my pants when we found Jeff and I just remembered," I was so embarrassed. She took my hand and took me up the stairs. When I got into the shower I began to sob and sob...a deep down grown that came form such a depth that when I realized why I was crying- it frightened me. "What's wrong? She asked?" I looked at her helpless, lost in fear- "I can't get the memory of his blood off. No matter how hard I scrub- the blood is still in my mind," and I felt that I would collapse.  The poor woman actually helped get me out of  the shower...she saw stuff that even I get the shudders looking at. But not Trudy, she just grabbed some sweats and helped me into them. She was just there- just like she has always been for my kids. Because that's what Trudy does...she mothers others.
Many times God puts people in your life that would die for you, but rarely does he put someone in your life that would die for your children, but for us He did. When Trudy Mater met our kids- she was instantly in love and the feeling was and is mutual- my kids adore Trudy Mater. Josh and Alan have been friends for so long and through the years the Mater family have just sort of adopted them, parented them, and loved them. People say that "it takes a village" to raise kids, but for us, "it took the Mater family". My kids have spent days, nights, and trips with the Mater's and in return the Mater's have had laughter, no food, broken things, broken bodies, freindship, and hardships, but have always come back for more. I would say that my kids have gotten the better end of the stick. But that it is truly Trudy who has stepped up and helped be their friend, confidont, Mom, and even sometimes their concience. In essence was I was "done" with them- she stepped up- everytime...anywhere. We have been at odds at times because we "she lionesses" are alot alike, but have always come back together because of these children. I remember one time when Jeff had moved out and I was so angry at how he had treated us and she said, "Don't be mad Kari, but I have to keep loving him no matter what- it's Jeff..." I remember crying because I was so angry and me thinking, "well at least he's getting some mothering...". because I knew she would. She would love continue to love Jeff and he would let her. And he did. For him- their home was an extension of who we were and while he was so frustrated at our"rules" that he didn't want them- Trudy's rules were still there and so was her love, but they involved a deep seeded friendship that held no restraints for Jeff. I'm sure he felt safe there many, many times.
From that very first day of Jeff's death, Trudy was there. She took all the teens, opened her home, allowed them to grieve. She held them, cried with them, mothered them, fed and watered them, and cleaned up after them- all so that the kids would find some way to survive this. No one knew that she was grieving too, but I knew. She was grieving the loss of her "son" also, because she was part of Jeff's "village". I remember she showed up and I was coing unglued and gasping for breath as I cried, "I failed him...I HAVE FAILED HIM..." and Trudy just held me and soothed me and quieted me like a mother does a child and said, "No you loved him. You helped him. you were the only Mom he ever knew. You did the best you could...you know that you did..." She held me for what seemed like hours.....And still after all this- she showed up every morning and everyafternoon, asking what she could do for me and when I told her...she did it. Even now weeks later- there's a phone call, a hug, a look, a thought... and I know she knows... and it helps ... and I love her for it...because Trudy Mater is Trudy Mater and that's what she does- she mothers...

Loving Jeff

We had to go in to the Tobias' home and get grilled by the medical examiner forever. It was excruciatingly hard and I found myself wanting to scream at him and say, "Really...is this really necessary?" But of course we answered all of the questions as truthfully as we could. he even asked if Jeff was hispanic over and over...I mean the kid was a s black as night- I don't know if he was color blind or what. Was he depressed? Did he talk about this before? Did he leave a note? Questions that were running through my head too- if I knew the answers- I'd have sure shared them. The ride home for Tim and I was awful. It seemed like it took forever. I kept wondering if this was a dream and would I ever wake up. And then as we drove...Jeff's life ran before my eyes and I realized....it was my fault...all of this was my fault. I didn't try hard enough. I practiced too much tough love. I should have never let him leave and begged him to stay two years ago...Oh no...OH NO... I failed him. I failed Jeff so much that I lost him forever. And so the guilt began- the same guilt that would continue from then until this very day...

Loving Jeff was the hardest task that I had ever been asked by the Lord to do. When we first met Jeff, he was charactorized as aggressive and on medicine for that. he was unresponsive to hugs or kisses or even any sort of intimate conversation, but we loved him and his siblings. We knew that these were our children. God said- period. Tim was sure and I was sure. So despite what the professionals said, I was going to bond with this son. I would love him and he would love me. I remember one day we were at the beach and he did not want to participate and have fun with us. he began to run away and Tim chased him down and threw some sand in his face and hair and Jeff began to unwind and relax. That became the kid of game we played whenever he got beligerent or frightened of new things- we joke him into liking it. Once we went to a restaurant and jeff was not going to go in and eat. I told him he was going and he began to flail at me so i held his arms and said, "You are coming and it will be okay. Because I will sit right here and hold you and love you until you want to go in..." It took a few minutes and he did go in and we did have fun. It was the same with goodnights. We prayed everynight with every child. At first Jeff fought this but when he realized that each child was tucked in, each child had a special blankie, each child had a special lullaby, and each would be smooched- he realized that this was a traditionandthis was family. It took a long time for him to relax and trust me- about two years. It was very hard sometimes to love someone who didn't readily love you back- so sometimes- okay alot- I went out of my way to make a concentrated effort to do the things he loved. I wanted him to forget the bad mother and love this new mother- me. I wanted him to love me and I would never break my promise. No matter what he did or could do- I told him I would never ever leave him or stop believing in him ever. And I never did....despite what Jeff believed in the last two years od his life and despite what some idiots say....I loved Jeff with a love so overpowering- I nearly lost myself and my other children to it.

Telling our Kids

Today I was going to write about how hard it was to tell our kids that Jeff was gone. But I cannot. I cannot speak of it or even relive it if only on this blog. Telling my children- all of them- even the adults was the hardest thing I have ever had to do or watch in my life. It was harder than actually losing Jeff because I had to do something that I knew would intentionally hurt them. I had to explain the unexplainable. I will not do it again. As I sit here writing after coming back from a grief counselor with Katce- I am reminded of the pain that these children have to live through everyday and I am saddened and hurt to the core. Children do not understand death, but more importantly, they do not understand suicide. So I am leaving my children's sadness and memory of that time to ourselves and asking that today as I began my journey and theirs too to understanding Jeff's choice- that you  pray for us. There have been some new developements about Jeffrey that have stunned me and I am saddened for my little boy who was so hurt inside that he could never love those who loved him most, but could love those in public who never really knew him at all. Missing him more today...especially the little boy who captured my heart on that ocean beach so many years ago...

The End

I remember waking up that morning and feeling odd. Usually Katce had climbed into bed with me when Tim left for work, but she was not there. I checked on her pretty little self, still asleep in her own bed, and quietly crept downstairs so that I wouldn't wake up Kayla and Jeff. But Jeff was not where he was supposed to be. All of his bedding was on the couch still all messed up, but he was not. I looked outside and even his car was gone, which was weird because he had had a flat tire the night before and he hadn't fixed it yet. As I was roamimg around trying to figure out what was going on....Kayla woke up and said, "Mom, he left at 6:30am this morning- he was mad because he couldn't find his keys. He thought you had them. He woke me up slamming stuff around, but I guess he found them and left. I didn't think to ask him where he was going." I shrugged my shoulders and hoped he wasn't going to blow off this new job, but what could I do?
Just then the phone rang and it was Amy. "Kari- Jeff is here. He's in his car out front and he won't leave. He came knocking on my window and said that if I didn't go back with him- something bad was going to happen. I tried to get him to come back and talk, but he wouldn't- he just ran to his car."
"Amy- call the police...just call the police.." I told her. "He could hurt you..." memories of bad times came flooding back.
"Won't you just come and get him? I don't want him in trouble...." her voiced trailed off. I could tell she's tried so hard with him, but she'd about had enough and I knew that feeling from previous experiences.
"Okay...I'll be there as fast as I can, " I told her and hung up. I started pulling on my shoes and coat over my pajamas. "I'd better call a man to come with me in case he gets beligerant, " I hurriedly told Kayla. She suggested that I call my sister Melissa since she's the best man we know and Jeff tended to listen to her. Then I called Tim who said that he'd leave work right away and go to Amy's. I had Kayla barricade the doors in case Jeff came home first and was angry and she had Katie-Grace alone- "Don't let him in unless I'm with him." We'd been down this road before.
I picked up Melissa and we headed out. I was kind of worried because I really didn't know what we would be facing. Would he be angry.? Would he be overwelmed and upset? Melissa and I began to discuss our options on what to do for him.....

As we rounded the corner to Amy's house- I got an almost sick feeling inside. Jeff's car wasn't in the driveway...it was up the road about 20 yards. The brake lights were on. I pulled up next to it and the windows were fogged up. Melissa peeked out her door."He's not even in it," she said as she began to get out. I parked the car thinking that he had ran into the woods and we'd have to go find him. He must be so sad...I began to get a surreal worried feeling as I made my way toward Melissa. It was quiet - too quiet.
She looked at me with wide,  quizzical eyes and all of the sudden she yelled, "It's too late! It's too late..."
"I looked at her and started to scream, "What do ya mean- it's too late! Break that window and get in there..." i noticed that the car was so fogged up that we couldn't see his face inside. What if he'd affixiated himself- it wouldn't be too late.
"No- I"M TELLING YOU IT'S TOO LATE!" she spoke as she edged her way around the car. Then she looked at me as I got closer and that's when I could see in enough to see the bright, red blood all over his pants. Then she ordered, "Go call 911...KARI...go call 911!"
I quickly obeyed trying to run to the house, but when my legs began to feel like spaghetti I jumped into the car and drove into the driveway and began to scream, CALL 911....CALL 911!" I could see them dialing as I jumped back into the car and frantically drove the twenty yards to park behind Jeff's car.
melissa was now keenly looking everything over and assessing the situation. "Stay back , Kari...I MEAN IT ..." Melissa cried as she talked to the police on the cell phone.
"We need to get him out- ," I blasted and started to look for something to break the window.
"No, the police said stay back...we can't touch anything...!" She went around the car again answering the questions by 911 and I made my way to the car. I looked in and that's when I saw ALL the blood...Oh no ..I thought ...what has he done? My mind began to reel as I took in the sight. The bright, red blood, his hand ...his ashy lil hand laying on his leg...laying next to a GUN...a huge, huge gun....
"Melissa, oh no, he's shot his own self...Oh MY GOD- MY GOD-...help us...he's shot his own self..." I began to scream it over and over again. I screamed it to God...I screamed it to Amy...I screamed it to the world... I tried to get the door open...I had to help him. My Baby Boy needed me and I couldn't get him out...I was going crazy...I could feel it...
"Get back!" Melissa began to shove me..."You can't break the window...the police want us to get back..." and she began to tell the police about the gun and wrap on the window hard to get Jeff to move- bruising her nuckles in the process.
I started to wet my pants and began to scream uncontrollably. "OH GOD HELP US..he's shot his own self..." and my heart began to tear in two and my world began to spin and my life began to end...
Amy and her Mom came running from the house...."Stay back Amy...I mean it...stay back !" I yelled at her like a momma protecting her young..."You can't see this! NO ! I won't let you ...I mean it...I'll spank you...now stay back.." Amy crept creeping closer and I began to try to stop her. ThEn I saw JoAnn- she was frozen- staring at me and our eyes met and I knew- I knew that she knew that Jeff was dead.
"He's dead? " I began to wimper..."he's really dead?'..and I sat down on the road and bawled...it began to mist and the police and the EMT's  arrived....and all I could to was get up and wimper and watch as they started to get to my son...my son...MY SON... and now he was dead.
I don't remember much after that. Tim came and he'd already guessed what had happened. He held me, but then went to see for himself. We began to function in a robotic mode...I began to pinch myself trying wake up from this awful dream...it couldn't be real...it couldn't...Everyone was asking questions...where'd he get the gun...how long had he been gone...but I didn't know...all I knew was that Jeff was dead...The police finally came up on the side of the road and I asked with pleading, begging eyes, "He's really dead?"
Tim held me close as the policeman quietly answered, "Yes Mam, he is dead."
And I buried my head in Tim's shoulder and my world came crashing down. My boy, my lil boy, the one I tried so hard to fix- was gone- gone by his own hand....and I couldn't fix it- heck I couldn't even believe it- and my perfect little world of love and peace and joy came crashing down....and I died...that day...all that I believed about Jeff, about me, about everything was gone...gone and dead...

The Day Before

The day before Jeff's death was the best day that we had spent with Jeff in two years, and as I look back on it now, I believe that God himself orchestrated it so that we would know that Jeff indeed loved and cared for us deeply. He discussed his future with his Dad and I, gamed with the kids, joked around, ate dinner with us, played with Katie-Grace, played basketball that evening with Joshua, and even joked around. Our Jeff was home, but even more importantly, our Jeff was back. Finally, I felt like this next week would bring about the changes he needed to get his life back on track; a new job at Court-Side, a safe place to live, a possible mission trip, plans for the summer....He gave us the best day....only to be followed by the worst day of our lives...
I awoke by lights and a loud tv at 3am. Katce was stirring and so I settled her back down and went to see what was up with the tv. Jeff was awake- really awake- and very quiet. He looked awful. I asked him if he could turn the tv down and then I suggested turning it off so maybe he could sleep. He nodded and rolled over and as I was about to go upstairs I turned around and said, "I love you Bubby."  "I love you too Mom," he returned in a soft, low voice. I yearned to go back and caress his little head and hold him, but sadly I did not. I told myself he needed his sleep. That was the last time I ever saw my son alive. The last time I would hear that voice say those precious words to me. And finally the last chance I would've had to change his mind....a regret that I'll live with for the rest of my life..