It’s Over

Well it’s over.

No more awaiting the capture, the preliminary hearing, finding out that the perpetrator will be entering a guilty plea and all that entails.

Listening to the rights read to the defendant before hearing him plead guilty, no more awaiting the sentencing from the judge…

It’s over.

The time period between January 27, 2018 and September 6, 2019 equals to:

• 587 days

• … or 83 weeks & 6 days

• … or 1 year, 7 months & 10 days.

We had Billy’s memorial service and burial on February 2nd 2018.

Billy was also buried on February 2nd 2018.

All the condolences, meals, flowers, cards, calls, texts and everything else that goes along with the death of a loved one, expected or not usually happens the week of and after the death.That all stopped within 2 weeks of his senseless murder.

To be completely honest, however you break it down, these last 587 days, or 83 weeks and 6 days or 1 year, 7 months and 10 days since we buried Billy have been filled with ups and downs, a level of uncertainty, a momentum that picks up and slows way down in a moments notice. No rhyme or reason.

I still have a couple people who are 100% sincere when they say to let them know if they can do Anything.

I know that they mean it, but I’ve never taken them up on it.


I don’t know how to ask on week 49 for a meal when I just don’t know what to make and “by the way, please make sure it’s healthy!”

How about on day 716, “I can’t muster the energy to clean can you help?”

Now that the sentencing is over and justice was served as much as the law allows, it’s over.

In many ways it feels like the days immediately after his death. 1 year, 7 months and 16 days ago.

I don’t know what to do.

So I do what I know to do regardless of how I feel.

I wake up, and as soon as I can process my 1st thought, I pray.

Just a simple prayer.

Really it’s just talking to the one who knows me better than I know myself.

Thank you for this day Lord. Help me. Guide me. Thank you for loving me with your perfect love. Thank you for your grace and mercy.

Once I’m awake enough, I pray scriptures for myself and my family that I’ve hidden in my heart.

“Thank you that nothing going on in my life is worthy to be compared to the glory that will be revealed in us.”

“Thank you for leading us on paths of righteousness for your namesake, thank you for enlightening the eyes of our understanding that we may know the hope of your calling, thank you that no weapon formed against us will prosper.”

“Thank you for helping us to be kind to one another, tender hearted and forgiving one another, even as God for Christ’s sake has forgiven us.”

Then I put on the full armor of God piece by piece for me and my husband our 6 living children, their spouse, their children, my Dad, my brothers and their families.

That’s what I know to do.

The repercussions of the tragic murder of my son seem endless.

They ripple throughout every aspect of life.

I woke up on September 1st, his 27th Birthday with pain in my hip flexor and gluteus medius.

It feels like my hip and butt are being squeezed in a vice.

It’s seizing pain and it’s on fire.

It hurts to walk and stand. Sitting is ok and laying with my feet propped up is my relief.

Numbness runs down the front of my leg so the MRI is scheduled for next week.

I haven’t been able to workout since August 31st.

Everything was fine and then BAM!

Do I believe this sudden onset of intense pain has to do with Billy?


I believe it’s soul pain leaking into my body.

I don’t understand it all but I know enough to know it’s not a coincidence.

I cry when it hurts, like when I step wrong with my foot. I cry because Billy’s not here, I cry because I can’t workout, I cry because my heart hurts, I cry because switching laundry is painful, I cry when I cook dinner because standing too long really hurts, I cry because Billy should still be here, I cry because I can’t do what I need to do. I cry because no Mother or Father should ever have to bury their child and then go through the legal system and sit through the hearings and sentencing. I just cry.

It’s exhausting.

I thought that after last Friday September 6th, I would feel differently somehow, maybe less tense, like I could breathe a sigh of relief.

Instead the physical pain got worse. I couldn’t do, can’t do, what I thought I was going to do.

So I’ll just keep doing what I know to do.

Maybe this is what Jesus is talking about.~

“Verily, verily, I say unto you, Except a corn of wheat fall into the ground and die, it abideth alone: but if it die, it bringeth forth much fruit.”

Everything that Jesus ever said is true because he is the truth. Verily verily means truly truly.

It must have been very important to him for us to understand what he saying here.

I hope that my kernel of a life that feels like it’s been alone, underground in the dark soil for a long time brings forth much fruit.

Truly, I do.

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