Beau,
You might not remember our first meeting. Wow…he
is big! That is what I thought the first time you appeared from around the
corner of my house. You and Jackie were
car-shopping (I think) and she had apparently dragged you along. You were
wearing long shorts and I noticed a large Celtic tattoo on your calf. You were polite but didn’t smile…not
once.
Joni Rose was rather oblivious that day. Or maybe that is
just what I thought. She was reeling
from her recent break-up with the abusive Frenchman, so I was surprised when a
few months later, I discovered that a spark had ignited between her and the
Hulk with Tattoo. But something was
happening; and even though I was absorbed by a new romance of my own, I could
see it all over her face.
In the nine years since you asked my permission to marry
Joni Rose; I have come to love the gem of a man underneath that first
impression. You are handsome and
extremely intelligent. But you are also
all the other things mothers want their daughters to marry; responsible,
ambitious, principled, and tender-hearted.
I believe you will love Joni Rose for this lifetime and beyond. I know you healed her heart and made her
shine again.
The first time you met our extended family, Joni told me you
couldn’t believe that people really talked and interacted that much. Even so,
you have carved your own place among us and have discovered how to flourish
around gregarious men and opinionated women.
I admire your rebel spirit and patriot’s passion. Being around you makes me feel safe, and I
have no doubt you would give your life without hesitation for your principles
and the people you love
But you and I are connected by something more now. We are
grieving. I might be further in the journey
than you, but I recognize the emptiness and pain in your eyes. Living with the loneliness of life without my
Mom, I have been humbled to watch the staggering losses you have experienced in
such a short time.
Uncle Barry, Grandpa Bill, Uncle Kent and now perhaps the
hardest of all; Grandpa Moore.. in death, they have taken with them pieces of
your childhood, your life experiences, and countless shared, now sacred
memories. It feels like part of you is gone too, doesn’t it? I have listened to the way you talk about each
of them. They are your heroes; diverse and unique … strong, driven, masculine, courageous,
protective, tender, kind men. They were keepers of your innocence and the
architects of your spirit.
Protective as you are, I know you worry for those left
behind. You helplessly watch your Dad grapple
with losing his band of brothers while shouldering the burdens of the last
living son. Like you, my heart aches for Grandma Joyce, widowed just in time to
bury her youngest child. And Grandma
Afton, losing her sweetheart after years of their struggle to hang on to
independence and to each other…a poignant love story I hope you will cherish.
I don’t understand why certain people leave us so soon…I am
still struggling with why they leave us at all!
Even when our sick and infirm are released from pain and suffering, we
ache in places we never imagined would hurt so much…and for so long. I can tell you it will get a more bearable
with time, but as you know so well already, it will never get easier to lose
people we love.
I am so sorry this has happened to you so young.
How lucky we are to know you. This family stands with you and will be there
for all that is yet to come. I am sorry
for your loss. But because of you, we know more about these men who shaped your
journey. We see each of them in you.
Know they are proud.
