Today is a day like all the others —only it's not!
The pain that I feel in my gut, it never goes away. Not even on a random Tuesday in March, or a hectic Saturday in December. It’s always there, even while enjoying a lovely dinner with family, or a fun filled day at Disney World. It doesn’t matter what day it is, it always hurts without you. There is the “everyday” that I mourn you and then there are the “other days.” The days when it hurts even more — when the hurt becomes unbearable.
A day like today — your birthday. Today is both the best and the worst, all at once
Days like today, are the best because
I have an excuse to lose myself in you, to immerse my thoughts in us, and love you even deeper than I did yesterday. Today, it’s justifiable to fall madly in love with you again.
Days like today, are the worst because
I have an excuse to lose myself in you. To immerse my thoughts in us, and to love you even deeper than yesterday. Today it’s justifiable to fall madly into grief with you again.
Forever 33 — that's you.
Today, I wish we were celebrating your 39th year around the sun, instead of mourning it. Today I wish I could peek around the corner, and watch as you examine your hairline for the tenth time in a row. You always feared to lose your hair, yet looked forward to being an “old fart” as you famously called it.
Your outlook on growing old was special. Unlike most people, you embraced it. Never in a million years could you (or I) have imagined that instead of growing old, you would remain forever young.
You will remain forever young in my heart and forever present in my mind, — I will mourn you forever!
Today, you missed your birthday for the sixth year in a row.
If you’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting my son, then I’m sure you’ve noticed his vibrant personality. The older Jax gets, he gains an intense lust for life, one that he undoubtedly inherited from his father.
Every Kid Loves Halloween
It’s no surprise that kids love Halloween. They get to dress up as their heroes, prance around their schools, attend their church fall festivals, or walk around their neighborhoods while collecting bunches of candy. It’s the one night of the year when playing make-believe is encouraged and, it’s something that some of us never grow out of.
Staying in Character
Every October (while in our 20’s), around the third weekend of the month, my bestie (Justin Pepin) hosted a Halloween Bash that was epic. The food was extravagant, the music was pumping, and the adult beverages were always flowing.
Every year, during this annual bash, Justin Ayers became so invested in his Halloween character that occasionally, he pissed me off. Sure he was funny, but sometimes I just needed to ask him a real-life question like: “What time do you want to head home?” or “What time is the plumber coming tomorrow?” It didn’t matter which character he was playing, his response was never really a response.
“Ha ha ha, you’re so funny Old Gregg,” I’d sarcastically grumble. The conversation would usually end with me stomping away (while dressed like Pretty Woman, or Violet Ann Bickerstaff) to try again later.
Justin’s sense of humor was always a little off-color, but he had this way about him that made people laugh, instead of making them mad. Except for this one time. There was one year in particular when his “character” almost got him beaten to a pulp.
Tony Clifton
Tony Clifton was the rude alter ego of Andy Kaufman. He was openly crass, outspoken, and downright hurtful to people in the audience. His shtick was to publicly humiliate people in the crowd. He called fat people pigs and told women they were worthless. He was by far one of the rudest individuals I’ve ever seen up on a stage. Justin found this hilarious and took his role of playing Tony to the next level.
If you can just imagine this: A tipsy Justin, dressed as Tony Clifton, yelling out obscenities at random drunk party goers. It was the perfect concoction of drunk, idiotic, and down right hilarious. I can’t think of a reason why the situation got so out of control?
Before Justin had a chance to fire off his next one-liner, six 20-year-old dudes were holding back a pretty pissed off penguin from punching him in the face.
Did I mention that everyone was in costumes? I think there was a hotdog, a pirate, and maybe even a Frankenstein all holding back a penguin from my character committed husband.
This was the only time I EVER saw him break character!
I've Got a Snake in My Boots
Every Halloween since Justin died has been bittersweet. At first, it was too hard to face. But now, the older Jax gets, the more I can see his father’s personality bursting out of him.
Last year, I was beyond thrilled, to see Justin come back to life. It was no surprise that it came in form of his 4-year-old son, dressed as Woody. Jax happily pranced around, from house to house, quoting lines from Toy Story in his adorable little squeaky voice. I smiled with both joy and a little bit of sadness, knowing how proud his father was in that moment. Even if he wasn’t physically there to coach him through the night—he was there.
It’s Christmas time and, like most 3-year-olds, your son is obsessed with Santa, Frosty, and his silly Elf On The Shelf (sorry to admit it but I broke down and bought one this year). I’m sure you’d be happy to know that he also has a fondness for baby Jesus.
His first obsession, Old McDonald, used to occupy any and every barn in sight. But now when he spots a one, he says, “That’s where baby Jesus sleeps.” Heart warming right? But that’s not the reason I know you would love it. I know you’d love it because it would give you another opportunity to make fun of me.
You know that nativity scene I made? It’s Jax’s favorite Christmas decoration. We were at my parents house a few nights ago and Jax was intensely looking at it. While admiring baby Jesus and the goat, my dad walked over and told him how special the piece of art was. “Your mommy made this when she was a little girl,” he said. At that moment, I knew you had to be laughing from up above. I picked up the lopsided barn and flipped it over. While holding it under the light, I was able to make out the date: November 20, 2001. My Dad looked at me and said, “Wait a minute, in 2001 you weren’t a little kid.” “Nope” I replied, “I was 17.” His face turned bright red as he burst into laughter. I quickly joined in.
I told him the story of the year Mom put out what you thought was my 3rd grade art project. It became a running joke. Year after year, Mom admired it while you laughed. I’d sulk for a minute, but eventually join in the mockery. I gave it my best, but I knew it was awesomely bad. My teacher must have felt sorry for me because I actually got an “A” on the project.
We are born with different talents and skills in life. I was blessed with the ability to sing and to write. But I cannot draw, sculpt, or paint. You, on the other hand, were awesome. You could do it all, and I was envious. Your wonderfully (inappropriate) cartoon doodles ended up on everyone’s junk mail and birthday cards. Your adult guitar students would have a thoughtfully drawn out cartoon to go along with their lesson. I’m sure they all cherish these today.
I let Jax pick out a Christmas decoration to put on your grave this year and he chose carefully. After holding 4 or 5 different items, he picked out a bobble head Santa Claus. Pretty appropriate I thought. Your son has your spirit and your sense of humor. We will visit your grave on Christmas this year and I’m sure I will cry. But maybe I can fight back the tears and laugh like you did. I’ll use my 11th grade art project as inspiration.
The winter holidays have always been my favorite time of the year. You know those obnoxious people who put a Christmas tree up before December comes? That was me. I binge watched the Hallmark channel, played Mariah Carey’s All I want for Christmas is You on repeat, and drank enough eggnog to fill a swimming pool(bourbon included of course). By the time New Years rolled around my credit card was maxed out, and I could barely button my jeans. I couldn’t make sense of why anyone wouldn’t love the song Santa Baby and had a disdain for people with a “Scroogey” mentality.
Even though I had sympathy for those in need, I lacked empathy for the average Joe or anyone who put a damper on my Christmas spirit. I assumed their holiday depression could be remedied with a delicious gingerbread cocktail, or some warm apple pie. It wasn’t until I was pushed into my own worst nightmare that I realized what a fool I’d been.
I became a widow on June 17 of 2014. Three days before my husband died, we had a child together. Bringing my son into this world was a nothing short of a miracle, but my joy was turned inside out when I lost Justin. It would be a short six months until December, and I knew it would be a catastrophe. My “Baby’s First Christmas” ornament would be replaced with a “In Memorandum” one. I would not just mourn my husband, I would also mourn my baby’s first Christmas.
Weeks after Justin’s death, I started seeing a counselor. He was helping me through the different stages of grief when out of nowhere he breached the subject of the holidays. “Don’t you dare,” I said in anger. It wasn’t even October and he was already talking about Christmas? Tears filled my eyes when he informed me that I needed to start facing this now. I protested; telling him of my plans to bypass the holiday season. “It won’t be something you can escape,” he said. When October rolled around we made plans to have our weekly session. But this time it would be at a Sam’s Club. I was clueless as to why. Upon entering the store I noticed a Christmas light display. “Follow me”, my counselor said. We walked a few feet and stopped at the beginning of an aisle; the Christmas aisle. I couldn’t believe my eyes. It was October, yet the insane amount of Christmas decorations made it look like December. As we made our way through the red and green garland, I sobbed while I remembering all of the happy holiday memories with Justin. That was the moment I realized I could run, but I could not hide.
My family and I came up with a plan for both Thanksgiving and Christmas. We would remove ourselves from any familiar surroundings as we knew they would only torment us. I told every friend, foe, and family member of our plans, and made it clear that I would not be accepting any gifts or attending anything resembling a turkey dinner. We flew to Newport Beach, CA on Thanksgiving day. I was refreshed to spend 10 days with my childhood friend Kimmy. It was the first time I could breath in five months. I’d been surrounded by death for so long and I finally felt a little free. I ran laps around the cliffs of Corona del Mar while blasting my iPod. I told myself not to stop. I could feel my heart pounding harder the faster I went. When I finally slowed down to catch my breath I noticed the magnificent view of the cliffs, and the beach down below. I felt at peace, and I never wanted to leave.
By the time we returned to Florida, the Christmas holiday was in full swing. Our neighborhood was oversaturated with white lights, wreaths, and blow up santas. That calm and peaceful place I found on the cliff that day was slipping away. Having always been on the other side of Christmas i.e. the joyous side, I never realized just how much society throws it in your face. Why had I wasted so much time watching the Hallmark channel when even the Syfy channel played Christmas programs? Did every single restaurant have to shove a gingerbread martini down my throat? And since when did grocery stores start playing holiday music. I couldn’t even shop for milk without hearing my once beloved Santa Baby. It was everywhere! Serves me right I suppose. I took each day as it came and when Christmas eve finally arrived, we drove to Atlanta, GA.
On Christmas day there wasn’t much to do, most places were closed. My mom discovered the Georgia Aquarium was open, and it seemed like the perfect place to spend our anti-holiday. As we walked around with hundreds of strangers, it occurred to me that I had now become that person I’d always loathed; and I felt ashamed. Ashamed of not only the person I used to be, but the one I’d become. I gazed into the bright blue fish tank and noticed a stingray swimming my direction. My six-month-old son pointed at the beautiful creature and he started giggling. Tears streamed down my face as I smiled and made a promise to never be so selfish again. In that moment I realized that a big part of me still wanted to buy my son his first Christmas ornament. I found a beautiful silver one in the shape of a baby rattle. It opened up and on the inside was a place for a photo. I had inscribed: “To my gorgeous son, you are my strength.” It still sits next to his daddy’s things in a box.
This year will be mark my fourth Christmas without Justin. I still dread this time of year, and I suppose Christmas will never be the same. But I know that it can and will be good again. I have my son to thank for that!
As seasons change, I find myself fighting to walk uphill instead of sliding down. From the sun setting so early, to Christmas music playing in department stores, the holidays are here and I’m faced with many emotional challenges. Last year, I was up against Halloween, Thanksgiving, and Christmas all less than seven months after losing Justin. Distraction was my best friend and I welcomed it with open arms. Traveling, shopping, making calendars of Jax, and helping my folks remodel their home were among the top choices. Basically, it didn’t really matter where I was going or what I was doing, as long as I wasn’t sitting still. Constant travel and a busy schedule were the only way I saw myself getting through the dreadful holiday season. Not only was I facing all three holidays for the first time without Justin, I was also a new mom.
Flashback to 2013 when we were expecting little Jax. We discovered the exciting news one week prior to Halloween. The news of Jax was kept under wraps (other than close friends and family) due to the risk you face in your first trimester. I wanted to keep our little bundle of joy a private and personal matter as long as possible. It’s the holiday season and you just discovered that a year from now, you will be parents for the first time.
One of Justin’s epic costumes
The anticipation and excitement begin immediately and you start saying things like, “Next Halloween, we will have a four-month-old to dress up”, “What should we dress him/her as?”. At this point the gender couldn’t be determined, so we started thinking of both costume options. Justin’s adoration for Halloween and the horror movie genre was quite intense. Every year in October, he would set the DVR to record scary movies on TV and we’d watch one or two every few nights. It was by far his favorite time of year (remember the Oktoberfest). He found himself over the moon anticipating the memories we would create with Jax. I’d never seen him so happy.
In 2014, I faced the first of many Halloweens as a widow and mother. After much debating on how to avoid the holiday, I decided “The heck with it”, and put Jax into a Kermit The Frog costume.
My little Kermit The Frog
My parents, brother, mother-in-law, my friend Summer and her family all went trick-or-treating with us. I walked around all night watching families enjoy the holiday with one another. At the time, I remember thinking to myself, “This is not fair”, and I was envious. Envious of the joy I was missing. The joy I had looked so forward to only one year ago. The evening had ups and downs along with plenty of tears, but we banded together and made it through in the best way we knew how.
It’s always been a tradition for my family to take a moment at the Thanksgiving table and share what we are thankful for. In 2013, I, of course, said, “The little addition we will have at the table next year”.Justin turned to me and said, “I’m most thankful for my beautiful wife and all the wonderful years we’ve shared just us two”. Tears streamed down my face as I smiled at him and knew he meant every word. We all had a moment and talked about how excited we were for the years to follow. We sat around all night recording a Christmas favorite, “Silver Bells”, in four-part harmony while Justin plucked away at the guitar (dad was the cameraman of course, ha ha).
Celebrating Christmas Eve in 2013 at our house
When December 2013 rolled around I was 15 weeks along. Since we’d made it through the first trimester with no issues, our baby excitement had grown exponentially. We browsed in stores eyeballing ‘Baby’s First Christmas’ ornaments with much anticipation, and talked about the additional stocking we’d put on the wall (our dog Axl already had one). When Christmas finally arrived, Justin and I decided to have a special Christmas Eve brunch with my family at our very first home. Since little Jax was constantly on our minds, we enjoyed a wonderful Christmas together and made sure to soak up every moment, knowing it would be our last year, just us two. We had spent 16 wonderful Christmas’ together as a couple and would now spend the rest of our lives together as a family.
Last year, after losing Justin, I decided to uproot everyone in my immediate family and hit the road for the holidays. For Thanksgiving, we flew to Newport Beach, CA for a visit with one of my best friends, Kimmy, and for Christmas, we drove to Atlanta for a change of scenery. Looking back, I now realize I was running away from reality. I knew that this might be the only acceptable year for me to completely ditch the holidays.
Christmas 2014 in Atlanta
At this point, Jax was so young that he wouldn’t know a candy cane from a candy corn. Being able to run away from Jolly Ole Saint Nick took the edge off and I was able to hold it together for a few days, which still felt like an eternity.
As long as I can remember, I’ve been one of those obnoxious Christmas-obsessed people who go “balls to the wall”. I couldn’t put up enough lights, buy enough presents, or bake enough sweets. I basically added an automatic 8 lbs to my waistline, maxed out my credit card and ran a power bill well into the thousands (maybe a little over-exaggeration on all three). So how disappointing is it that now I hate Christmas!!
We had a great since of humor
Hate is a little strong, but I can say I find myself looking forward to the day after Christmas instead of the day before like I used to.
My excitement for holidays and special occasions tends to peak about a day before they actually happen. I’ve found that the anticipation is almost better than the actual day. This tends to make the day after somewhat of a bummer. But now I experience the opposite effect. Days that I dread kick me the hardest the day before and bring me relief the day after.
This year I have decided I have to quit running away. Sure, I could probably get away with it for at least another year but then I would be in the same place I am now. I’m not proud to say that I have dreaded Christmas 2015 since the day after Christmas 2014. Because I avoided it all together last year, this year I find myself feeling just as heartbroken.
I recently went with my mom, Aunt Jo Beth, and Jax to find a Christmas tree for my parents home. Pulling into the Home Depot parking lot, I got sick to my stomach. “Of course”, I thought, “This is the place we always bought our Christmas trees, what was I thinking?”. Mom had asked me a good place to go look and I instinctively said Home Depot or Lowes. Instead of seeing Christmas trees and smiling like I used to, I now roll my eyes. Statistics show suicide rates tend to skyrocket around the holidays and I never understood it until now. Of course, I have no plans to partake in this completely selfish act. But, I now understand the emptiness the holidays can bring when you are missing someone, feeling lonely, and broken.
Jax in 2014
Even though the emptiness feels constant, I have let some of the fullness and joys in as well. Jax is old enough to appreciate the exciting new things around him. Christmas trees, lights, reindeer, Santa, and Frosty all bring a huge smile to his face and I’m quickly reminded of all the reasons I once loved Christmas. Seeing a smile on Jax’s face is priceless and if showing him an obese man dressed in red and white does the trick, I’m gonna have to jump on board. Heck, I might even smile and enjoy it myself. We will be taking Jax to see Mickey for Disney’s special Christmas celebration this year and I couldn’t be more excited to see my little boy having the time of his life.
Meeting Minnie Mouse
The innocence a child brings into our lives should always be cherished. It is a beautiful thing above all else. I see the light in Jax’s eyes and it helps bring some light back into mine. To say I will never experience Christmas like I once did is true, but I will find a new love/hate relationship with the holiday and make sure my son knows just how magical it can be.