Dear Bobby,

Every year I write you a letter on the anniversary of the day you died. It has been 7 years now. Some years it seems to hit harder than others. This is one of those years. There is a void. We have learned and grieved and changed and grown, but the void still remains. It is there, in some way, for each of us. I accept that things will change, as time goes on, and as time has already, but I am not convinced the void will ever go away, or even that it should. I thought it would somehow be filled by now I guess.

I feel the void of not having you here most when I want to share something the children have done, good or bad. When the girls have straight A’s all year, I want to share that joy with you! When Brody skips a grade and still gets honor roll every term, I want to share that joy with you! When Maddox’s speech improves so everyone finally understands him, I want to share that joy with you! When I published my first book, I want to share that joy with you! When the girls are fighting and telling me they hate me and rolling their eyes and not doing anything I have asked of them, I want you here to have my back! When Brody is bored and hates school and asks why he has to even go, I want you here to have my back! When Maddox won’t eat anything but mac n cheese then can’t stop having massive diarrhea, I definitely want you here to have my back! When money is tight and I am completely spread as thin as I can be and it never seems to be enough, I want you here to have my back!

I feel your void on Friday nights. This has been a thing from day one. At the end of the busy week, when I finally have a chance to relax, I turn around and you are not there. I feel your void at baseball games and when the boys are outside giving each other batting practice. I feel your void when Brody asks me to pitch to him so he can catch and it’s the end of the day and I’m tired, but I know it makes him happy to practice. I feel your void when I make an amazing new dinner to try and I’m stuck eating it for days because the kids won’t touch it, but my garbage gut of a husband wouldn’t have ever turned food away or let it go bad days later. I feel a void when I want to share professional accomplishments with you.

Joni got her license. She bought her own car 100% by herself. She pays me every month for her own car insurance. She is a three sport athlete: volleyball, basketball, and lacrosse. Joni is back for her third summer working at Somerset Creamery. We are looking at colleges! Wherever there is a milestone, there is a void without you here to see it and share it with us. I do believe you are always with us in spirit, but spirit cannot high five or hug or have a drink together. Spirit cannot help to discipline teenagers. Spirit cannot intimidate boyfriends. Luckily, I have been somewhat successful at that last one myself!

Hanna is rocking high school. She also has straight A’s and is a three sport athlete. Lacrosse is her favorite, but she also enjoys volleyball and basketball. She is in her first season of working at Somerset Creamery. I remember you running out every Sunday night to pick up our ice cream while I put the kids to bed. We would sit together, watch TV, relax, and eat our ice cream. Without fail Hanna would always wake up and come downstairs to see what we were eating! Now she can finally get her own darn ice cream!

Brody is freaking twelve! He is so smart and kind and wonderful MOST OF THE TIME. He is the one kid that was NOT supposed to give me attitude! Here we are! He is definitely not as difficult as the girls. That being said, he will argue just about any point he can probably just for the sake of arguing! I think my husband enjoyed doing the same thing to me at times! He is so smart, but so bored at school. He needs to work with his hands and build things and fix things and figure things out. He can’t wait to join the girls at the tech. That school was perfect for the girls and I know it will be for the boys as well. I know we all miss you, but I can feel the void for the boys in a way that makes me choke. I cannot fill the void of not having a dad, no matter what I do or how hard I try. And trust me, I try really hard. He loves baseball. I can’t sign him up for all the baseball stuff he would love to do because there is only one of me, spread too thin. He misses you so much. He misses the things he doesn’t even know he misses. There are opportunities when he sees his friends get to do stuff with their dads that he misses out on because you’re not here to do them. I know twelve is such a hard age, but it’s made harder when you don’t have your dad to help you navigate. I know he talks to me more than probably many boys talk to their mama’s, but I can only imagine what he keeps to himself because it’s “guy stuff”. I cannot fill that void.

Maddox is getting so big, but still and always my baby. He is so tall compared to the others. He definitely didn’t inherit your height, or lack thereof! He is so active! His energy level makes me tired to watch! I know we all feel the void of not having you here, but I feel like he has the biggest one. He was 18 months. He doesn’t remember and it sucks for him. He has no idea what it’s like to have a father. At least the rest of us got you for enough time to make memories that we will never forget. He doesn’t get that and it’s not fair. It makes me really angry for him. I think of how awesome it would be for someone to play that role someday for him, but just not that easy. He gets really upset when his friends have their dad at school events or when he sees dads at baseball rooting on their kids. Brody is awesome at teaching him how to play ball, but I see the conflict they have sometimes and I know that throwing you out there for the both of them would be awesome. But, there’s that void.

I feel the void when the kids all have stuff going on at the same time and I can’t possibly get to it all. If I can’t, then there isn’t a parent to root them on. That sucks. I know I do alot more for our children than they even realize right now, but it is never enough. I recently read an article someone wrote about single moms. It was telling moms that had any involvement from dads at all to stop saying they are “like a single mom”. Being a widow is different than being married and still having most everything on you or being divorced and having your ex spouse take the kids every other weekend. Now I do know women who have to 100% raise kids on their own who are not widows. They understand much more where I am coming from. All of these situations suck and I’ve never wanted any pity, but I do wish sometimes people thought before they spoke.

I have had a year filled with much introspection. It has been empowering in many ways. I have accomplished things that I have set out to do and also established new goals to reach. Personally, I have grown so much as a human. Part of growing means looking at your past, really looking at it. Maybe that’s why this year seems so much harder, more raw. Maybe it’s why the void feels so big.

I know all of this letter to you seems somewhat depressing, pointing out all the places and times we miss you and all of the things we need and want you here for, but I don’t feel that way. Yes, we get sad at this time of year and we miss you at certain times more than others. However, we are blessed and lucky to have had something, someone, so profound and wonderful in our lives that a void was left behind. You gave us yourself. You gave us love and time and laughter. You gave us so many stories to keep telling Maddox. You gave us so many pictures to keep showing Maddox. Leaving your mark, this void, means that we loved. I would never go back and change a thing. If I was given the chance to do it differently, I wouldn’t. Sure, I hated when we fought, but nobody is perfect. Part of living is taking the good with the bad. I would NEVER give up the good we had. Not even for all the pain to go away. As the years move on and the void remains, it changes as life changes. Parenting demands make me feel that void more. Financial demands make me feel that void more. Friday nights make me feel that void more. But it all means that someone loved us very much, gave us so very much, and we were lucky to have you. Our lives are so full. We are healthy. Our children get to have school and sports and band and hobbies. I get to watch them grow. I have a full life with them and my wonderful friends, my professional accomplishments, my goals. We have food on the table, an amazing house, vacations, each other and every new day is a day to make new memories.

I accept that our lives can still be full with a void. I embrace that happiness and joy can still be the foundation of our lives with a void present. It is not something everyone will understand. Asking them to try would mean asking them to lose their spouse, their partner and to go through pain. I don’t wish that on anyone. I am just proud of us, of myself. It has taken time to get here, to this place of understanding, but the journey has been worth it. We are better people for having you in our lives. I understand that sadness can still allow for happiness and I know that a void means we were blessed enough to have something great.

I would, however, still like help with those teenagers!

Love and miss you Bobby,

Your bff,

Kelly