Love What Matters Essay
I have a new story up on Love What Matters. This one is a little different than usual. Instead of exploring my relationship with Justin, or Don, it explores the bond that was formed between Justin’s little Cousin, Shelby, and I. She and I went through very different, yet similar experiences after both witnessing Justin’s murder. In the end, it was the love we found in one another, amongst so much heartbreak that gave me a sister.
Read the full story below.
“I’ve always heard that some of the strongest bonds can form through tragedy. I never realized how true this statement was until I experienced it for myself. My husband Justin was killed five years ago, and not a second goes by that I’m not haunted by the circumstances that took his life. A stray bullet with a probability of one in infinity somehow managed to kill him on impact, three days after I delivered our son. I not only lost my husband of 10 years (who was also my high school sweetheart), I also had to bear witness to his death.
. He likes Mario Kart, okay but it’s Mario Bros. that he wants to play day and night. You would be super proud of me for abstaining from using any foul language while we play together. Even when he accidentally resets the game before we can save it, and we lose all of our progress. I fully resist the urge to yell, “turtle xxxx”(inside joke).
Plenty of new things happening in my life these days, and I’d love to catch everyone up! I’m currently in Anchorage, AK with my band Fortag performing at Koots (Chilkoot Charlie’s) for a month. Jax is here now and I’m loving every second. I see strangers constantly scratching their heads in amazement (he’s very high energy), and cracking up at his incredible sense of humor. Sense of humor you say? Yes, my 2-year-old is one of the funniest people I know and his father is to thank for that. 
I was asked to write a very difficult essay on “My Story” that took me close to three months to work through. It will be featured on the Popsugar website and they are giving me permission to post it on my blog as well. I plan to continue to write my blog and write for Popsugar, but I’ve also started the process of writing a book. I never wanted a life that could be turned into a book or movie, but you can’t choose your path in life, it chooses you. Sharing personal details of when I lost Justin takes away a piece of my soul and I can only hope it will help others going through similar circumstances. 
When Justin died, I was so far removed from the world that I couldn’t fully appreciate the outpouring of love and support from my local community and beyond. Looking back on it now, I’m amazed at how much people wanted to help Jax and I. Money was raised through multiple fundraisers and I opened hundreds of cards filled with cash, checks, and gift cards. I think it might have taken me months to actually go back and read them all. I was blessed to have so many people wanting to help Jax and I, but, not everyone gets that kind of support. On my Facebook page and website, I’ve received many private messages from women who lost their husbands and are in need of support. Everyday a young mother loses the father to her child/children and is left with not only a broken heart but a busted bank account and hungry mouths to feed. I always knew I wanted to start a charity in memory of Justin, but not until recently did I know what I wanted it to be. 
I’m excited to announce that I have decided to turn The Singing Widow into a foundation for young widowed mothers. My hope is to start with one a year and work my way up, it all starts with one. I will be heading up a fundraiser to kickstart it that will feature multiple bands (myself included). If you would like to get involved. then please reach out. I will need bunches of help and bunches of talent. 
I’ve always been a Daddy’s girl at heart. When I was sixteen, I purchased a cheesy “Daddy’s Girl” license plate to go on the front of my red Mustang. Before Justin, my dad was the apple of my eye and he has since reclaimed that title in many ways. I’ve mentioned my dad quite a few times in my blog entries. Written of his selfless acts and what an amazing male figure he’s been in mine and Jax’s life. However, the person I mention quite often only in passing, tends to hideout on the sidelines. 
She gave me strength when I had none left, love when I thought it was gone, and hope for what I needed to see in my future. To call someone purely selfless is usually a false statement but I have to give it up for Sandy Hinson. Never once do I ever think she has taken a moment of her day and not thought about “other’s” needs over her’s. For that, I am proud to say she is my best friend, worst enemy, sister, mother, and idol that I will aspire to be like as long as I live. 
While rocking Jax, my eyes scan the room. I notice dirty clothes on the floor I need to pick up. The baby monitor cord has fallen within arm’s reach. “He could electrocute himself if he chewed on it”, I think. Suddenly, I sense chill bumps on my arms and make a mental note to turn the AC up after I’ve moved the monitor cord. His breathing has slowed, finally dozing off. Looking down at his pure little face, I brush my cheek to his, think about our day together, and smile. I’m perplexed by the darling things he did and new words he learned, all while recognizing how rewarding it is to be his mommy
While admiring this perfect creature, my heart begins to pound. Here it comes again, the wave of reality that zaps me every night. I become aware, once again, that it’s US AGAINST THE WORLD. Then come tears of love, pain, shock, disbelief, loneliness, sorrow, and fear. Did this really happen? WHY???
For some, getting a good night’s rest would take precedence over just about anything. A hot shower, a home-cooked meal, or even a paid vaycay in Tahiti all pale in comparison to catching some mad zzz’s. I can recall the days of sleep being a snap. When tossing and turning all night were few and far between, merely caused by the occasional stomach ache or frequent urination while pregnant. Melting into my plush covers used to be a peak moment of the day. A close second was relaxing with Justin over a glass of wine and discussing our day. But snuggling up to the one you love at the end of the night in a warm comfy bed was pretty hard to top. A dream come true, you could say, only to be followed by a blissful ten-hour slumber.
As for the nights I actually do sleep, I’m tormented with a contrasting struggle, NIGHTMARES. I used to think the word nightmare only pertained to little girls in pigtails dreaming of monsters and goblins. They wake up to realize it wasn’t real and mommy comforts them with a glass of warm milk. Mommy assures them everything is just fine and snuggles her little one back to the Sandman. Unfortunately, nightmares don’t stop at age five. I now wake from a horrid nightmare with no one to comfort me. I look to warmth that is no longer there and realize that the nightmare can’t possibly be worse than my reality.
I recently heard a quote that stuck with me, “Happiness is a choice”. I believe this with all my heart. If I thought otherwise, I might find myself a different person today. I’d be eating pills like candy, drowning myself in booze, or falling into a dark hole too steep to climb out of. But I affirm, life is way too precious to waste on such selfish acts. People who are broken have to make a choice to be happy and present. Even if being present is the expanded path, it’s by far, the rightful one. As a mother, I’m tickled that one day I will be able to comfort my child when he wakes up frightened from a nightmare. I will make sure he knows it wasn’t real and make him a glass of warm milk. I will assure him everything is just fine, snuggle him back to Sandman, and off to Never Never Land.