I Became A CASA Volunteer

After taking over 30 hours of training I was sworn in as one of the newest Court Appointed Special Advocates. This means I will be doing volunteer work with children who have been removed from their home because of neglect and/or abuse. I figured this would give me something to do with my time and hopefully I will be able to make a difference in the life or lives of children.

 

 

 

 

September Utah Visit

I made another trip to Utah in September to visit with the kids and attend the wedding reception of Alisa Lyman who was one of my missionary children in Casper.  Derek and I went to her "wedding party" together that night in Highland while Corey and Nikki took off for a night away at some resort in the mountains.

Those visits get harder and harder to make it seems.  It's a long trip by myself.  B. J. The Dog doesn't talk much.  The trip is worth it though when I finally make it and see the kids - especially get to spend some time with Derek.

 

 

 

 

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And then I let Derek have the camera...

 



 

 

 

 

 

Pretty good, huh?

 

 



Last Menus

I tried to be organized every week.  Sunday was my day to have everything planned for the week's upcoming meals.  I had to do that because of all the doctor appointments and work or else I would have felt so stressed to try and plan dinner each and every night.

This is my last listing of those planned dinners:

Susan Came For A Visit

Susan came for a visit the first week in August.  She was on the way home after a visit to Washington State to see her first little grandchild - Hudson.

She flew into Casper and I picked her up.  The next day was spent doing some countryside sightseeing. 

 

We had to head to Denver the next day because she was flying out to Georgia the following day.  So we headed south by way of Nebraska, back into Wyoming and then Colorado.

  



 

 

 

 

 

Susan met a biker on his way home from his yearly Sturgis visit.

 

Random Thoughts

- I was driving to work yesterday when I heard the sound of an ambulance siren.  I had to pull over to the side of the street to let it pass.  As it did, a wave of sadness swept over me and I began to cry.  How many times had one made a visit to my home?  And then I remembered following an ambulance that last final time.  It's these little moments of reality that knock me back a step or two.

- Sleep has once again taken a new turn.  I find myself staying up until unbelievable hours of the morning.  And, when I finally do force myself into bed, my mind won't shut off and I realize I'm thinking about the oddest things - things I haven't thought about for years or just playing things over and over in my mind.  It was on one of these nights that I realized that my relationship with Joe was exactly eight years from the time we met until the time of his death.

- I have come to realize how insensitive people can be sometimes when it comes to death - more exactly the insensitivity of what people have said to me.  And the most hurtful things have more than often come from some family members. 

- I don't share my feelings with others like I used to.  I am trying to move on inwardly when I feel my loss and sorrow. I've done so much reading about grief since Joe's passing.  I've done lots of praying.  I've been trying to understand how I should be healing and reacting and as far as I can tell, I'm normal?

- One thing that I don't find myself worrying about is paying my bills.  Oh, I admit that in the beginning it was an almost paralyzing thought that I'd lost one of my monthly incomes.  However, I've come to gain a BIG testimony of paying my tithing.  Somehow everything always seems to work out.  My landlord was temporarily reducing my rent for three months and he's decided to leave the reduction in place.  Will it be forever?  I don't know, but I'm not going to worry about it.  He knows my situation and wants to keep me as a renter.  And, Joe's family has been very generous and gracious in sending me some extra monies to help.  I've been quite fortunate that even with the visitors from out of state and the extra trips and expenses to Utah and Colorado, I have managed to still pay my bills.  In fact, my bills for the upcoming month have been paid usually by the end of the current month.  I also secured a ticket to fly to Georgia for a week using my frequent flyer miles.  And, I still had a few (very few) miles leftover and I'm flying in and out of Casper so no trip to Denver for me this time.   I don't hardly grocery shop anymore as I have so much here or people still tend to feed me either in their home or at a restaurant.  And, by the beginning of next year, I should be totally debt free and only have my monthly living expenses.   Yes, I do have a testimony of tithing.

- I'm never afraid of being by myself - even at night.  I've never been given a cause to be scared.  I go to bed each night with a knowledge that my Heavenly Father is watching over me.  At least when I finally make it to my bed.

The Weekend

It's Friday night.  I walked into the house tonight and it's almost like I'm standing at one end of a very long, dimly lit hall.  The weekend looms like something to be dreaded, yet wanted at the same time.  I could most likely call someone and suggest going out to dinner or a movie or have someone come over, but then I've been nice and cheery to people all day, all week.  I'm emotionally spent,  It's hard during the work week because though my heart still can still break and ache at the most inopportune times, I have to keep my emotions in check...I'm a professional, I'm paid to do a job and honestly the job is what has kept my functioning as a "normal" person.

During the week, I think of all the things I'd like to get down over the weekend.  I have my list of things to accomplish, but it can be left on the counter and nothing get checked off.  I have things I want to do...apparently later than sooner.  I have a burning desire to puts thoughts to paper since my head seems on the verge of over-flowing with things I need, that I want to express.  But, I don't get it done. If I do start writing something, I generally become overcome with grief that all I can do is sit and sob.

I want, I need to get on with living a "normal" life.  I want, I need to start reading books again.  I want, I need to find something to help fill my time, something to make me feel fulfilled.  I want, I need something to bring some creativity, some joy back into my life so that it all becomes as natural as breathing.

It's the quietness of the house that gets to me sometimes.  The quietness is both a curse and a blessing.  There is such a loneliness without Joe.  There is the loss of knowing I don't hear his voice and see him.  There is the loss of planned daycations, of shared experiences and memories. 

When I make it through Friday night and all day Saturday, then Sunday becomes so very difficult.  I used to look forward to going to church with Joe.  He always looked so good, smelled so wonderful and I loved being able to sit together and hold hands.  Now it's sometimes a very painful experience because of those memories. 

I know that in time things will become easier.  I know that my Heavenly Father does not want me to continue to cry and hurt.  Unfortunately, that time has not yet arrived.

It Rained

It rained last night.  It was one of those evenings where the first twinges of fall seemed to be creeping in after a very long hot summer.  It started raining sometime before going to bed.  I never heard it at all until shortly before I went to crawl into bed.  I love nights like that...Nights when it's cool, when the window is open and one side of the curtain is pushed aside to catch the breeze.  Then I could really hear the gentle sound of the rain coming down.  It's a rare thing when that happens here in Wyoming.  I rarely have the chance to see it rain at all - there's so little of it.  So, when nights like last night come along, I try to enjoy it as long as possible.

After saying my nightly prayer, I slipped into bed and laid there listening to the steady drip, drip, drip of the rain falling off the side of the house until I finally slipped off into a wonderful night of undisturbed sleep.

Three Months

Pretty much just like One Month and Two Months.

Floundering

I feel as though I'm floundering.  Sometimes when I try to move forward it seems as though I get pushed back.  I sometimes feel like a little dingy in the middle of the ocean and I'm just being tossed to and fro with no sense of direction.

Nesting

Nesting after the death of my loved one vaguely reminds me of when I was preparing for the birth of Corey.

I realized after Joe's death that I couldn't be like some people I'd heard about who left everything exactly the same.  This is now my home and so I had to make some changes.

I may have mentioned it somewhere before, but it was a real blessing that Corey went through the majority of Joe's items shortly after the funeral.  Items, primarily medically related, were given away to individuals or organizations that could benefit from things he used.  This included medicines, adult diapers, bed liners, etc.  Corey took clothing that he knew he would like and use and the rest was donated to various charities.

There are subtle items left out to remind me of Joe.  His cowboy hat still hangs on the coat rack, his favorite BYU baseball cap has found a home on the antique hall tree, his picture stands on the shelf in front of his box of ashes and then there is the top shelf of the closet where his clothes used to hang.  I see his favorite pair of tennis shoes, his box of arrowheads and other unknown things that Corey packed away and placed there. 

I've hung new curtains in the living room, added new cushions, moved furniture around, hung new things on the wall and made this house my home.  The bedroom has also been changed to reflect a sense of clean and crisp - like a hotel room.  It's my oassis at the end of the day.

I've not changed the message on the answer machine.  It still says that you've reached the home of Joe and Carol Weaver.  I just wish it had Joe's voice instead of mine.  I miss hearing his voice.  I can hear it in my head when I stop and think about it, but I miss the way he spoke.

Part of the nesting process was taking my car and having it cleaned inside and outside.  I just felt it was a necessary step for me to move forward.

I still run across things of Joe's when looking for something in drawers or in closets.  It causes me to stop - sometimes right in my tracks.  That's when I decide it's time to do something else.  Still too many memories that bring me to tears.

Papa Joe

Corey has shared a couple of experiences that Derek has had after the death of his Papa Joe.  They have brought a great deal of comfort to me.

One day Derek was on the trampoline playing with the neighbor children.  He started crying when he couldn't get off.  Corey came and took him off.  A short time later, Corey heard Derek crying again and went to see what was the trouble.  Derek was sitting on his bicycle and his dad asked him what was wrong.  Derek replied, "He wanted Papa Joe to come back and be with Grandma Carol".

Another time, the three of them went to some community festival.  Derek got two helium balloons and his dad told him to hang on to them or else they'd get away.  He did until they had apparently arrived home.  Before going in the house, Derek loosened one of the balloons - his dad lunged for it, but Derek stopped him saying, "No Daddy.  That one is for Papa Joe."

He continues to ask questions and try to understand where and why isn't Papa Joe here.

Crying Myself To Sleep

I cried myself to sleep last night.  That was the first time in quite awhile that that has happened.  I think I am evolving into a new phase of my grieving process.  I haven't really stopped crying since the day Joe died.  I only take vacations from it.  I may go for a few days before I really have a good cry or I may have tears well up, but this crying last night was different.

For the last two weekends, I've had the opportunity for some contemplative thinking.  It's all been hinging on the downloading of pictures and sorting through paperwork, etc.  I had no where that I needed to be the previous weekend, so that gave me two whole days for this to take place and it was mental torture.  Mental torture in the sense that it brought out feelings I hadn't had to face in either several weeks or never.  This weekend, I'd kept myself so busy in order that this wouldn't be repeated, but those feelings hit me again yesterday. 

I miss Joe.  Simply said I miss Joe so badly at times.  I really missed him last night after crawling into bed after my nightly prayer.  This was the first time I'd cried myself to sleep in a long time.  The longing to snuggle up behind him or have him come up behind me and cradle my head as he wrapped his arms around me was so very strong last night.  And it hurt to know it can't happen anymore and it brings such pain to my heart. I just wish I could cradle his head between my hands and kiss that sweet face and see him smile.  Even writing about it now, I'm sitting here with tears running down my face and can hardly swallow because of the lump in my throat.

This is a different type of crying.  I think my mind is finally coming to terms and realization that this is a permanent.  I originally cried because of the shock, the horror, the nightmarish circumstances.  Now I think it's the realization of the permanence of knowing Joe is gone.

One of the speakers at the Time Out For Women in early May in Billings had lost his wife to cancer in the last year.  His name is Michael Wilcox  and the title of his presentation was Laying Hold on Every Good Thing.  The description of his talk was...It is the Lord's desire that we find and do good during our time on earth. And He has provided a compass or map to help us know how. If we use the compass of His word, He will direct us to every good thing of life that will enrich our mortal experience, prepare us for eternity, and bring us happiness now and forever.

He said after his wife died, he prayed, "Father in heaven, why do we have to lose the things we love?  and He said, it is the way of things.  That is how we learn how much we love.  That is how we learn what to value, but don't always be said because I can bring good out of even this."

Temple Day With Aunt Ruth and David

Aunt Ruth, David, Corey and I went to the temple that morning while Nikki and Derek were attending a Primary activity.  Then we all met together for dinner that afternoon at Tucano's.

B. J. Still Grieves

One of the places that B.J. spends most of his time is lying in front of the door looking out.  Even if the door is closed, many times he lies there.  I think he's still looking for Joe.

Cleanup In The Backyard

 

So there I was with a backyard full of piles of dog poop, leaves that needed, trees that neede pruning and just clearing up trash that had blown in.  That's when the the Young Men and their leaders, including the Bishop and the former Bishop showed up and cleaned up the back yard for me.

 

 

I only thought it fitting that I served ice cream floats and cookies when they finished.

Family Pictures

Just Let Me Cry

I got on the internet this morning before going to church and ran across this song.  It is so beautiful and somehow it expresses what I can't say to others especially during those times when I need to cry for apparently no reason.

“Just Let Me Cry” by Hilary Weeks

I believe that everything happens for a reason.
We’re not just tossed by the wind,
or left in the hands of fate.
But sometimes life sends a storm that’s unexpected.
And we’re forced to face our deepest pain.
When I feel the heartache begin to pull me under...
I dig my heels in deep,
and I fight to keep my ground.
Still, at times the hurt inside grows stronger.
And there’s nothing I can do but let out...

Just let me cry.
I know it’s hard to see.
But the pain I feel isn’t going away today.
So just let me cry.
Till every tear has fallen.
Don’t ask when and don’t ask why.
Just let me cry.

When I agreed that God could put this heart inside me.
I understood that there would be a chance that it would break.
But I know He knows exactly how I’m feeling...
And I know in time He’ll take the pain away.

But for now...
Just let me cry.
I know it’s hard to see but the pain I feel isn’t going away today.
So, just let me cry.
Till every tear has fallen.
Don’t ask when and don’t ask why.
Just let me cry.

I have felt joy,
the kind that makes my heart want to sing.
And so my tears are not a surrender,
I’ll feel that way again.
But for now...
For this moment...

Just let me cry.
I know it’s hard to see.
But the pain I feel  isn’t going away today.
Just let me cry.
Till every tear has fallen.
Don’t ask when and don’t ask why.
Just let me cry

When I listened to this song and read the words, the tears started flowing and kept coming accompanied by deep sobbing. Those sobs that come from deep in the soul – the ones I keep thinking I'm done with.   

Will this keep happening forever? Will I ever be done with the grieving? I don’t know. But I hope that each time I weep, I am healing.  

So, whenever I need to, please just let me cry.

A Celebration of Life

Joe's Celebration of Life was held on June 2 at 2:00.  The Relief Society had taken care of all of the arrangements and all of the kids had gotten together the table display things, including the plants and flowers, so primarily all I had to do was show up.

The program was held in the Relief Society and I remember when walking in seeing that it was totally filled.  (Unfortunately, I don't remember who all showed up, especially since many did not stay for the luncheon).  The program went as follows:

Pianist:  Adri Pehrson

Chorister:  Margaret Hein

Conducting:  Bishop Michael Kleinman

Opening Song:  Page 293 - "Each Life That Touches Ours For Good"

Opening Prayer:  Doug Olsen

Eulogy:  Corey Preston

Celebration Talk:  Cordell Wistisen

Closing Song:  Page 86 - "How Great Thou Art"

Closing Prayer: Chris Harris

(The participating men were some of Joe's favorite friends in the ward).

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The eulogy as written and read by Corey:

I am honored to participate in this celebration of life for Joseph Earl Weaver who began his life on September 21, 1945 as the second son of Walter Earl Weaver and Pauline Jacobs who have preceded him in death.  I will be adding my own loving points into these facts of his life, so take my bits of humor in this, not as disrespect, but as my way of honoring the man I knew.  Joe has an older brother and sister-in-law, Floyd and Mona who live in Indiana and he is the proud father of two sons, Brian and Jason.  Brian and his wife, Amy, and their four lovely daughters live in Ohio, but are here with us today.  Jason lives in Texas and has one child.  I am his stepson, Corey, and I have my wife, Nikki and our son.

Joe had a brilliant mind. Everyone that knew him knows exactly what I’m talking about. The amount of completely useless trivia as we called it, was amazing. The only problem is that for the most part you could actually check the facts and find that he was accurate. His jokes, however witty they may have been, always made you laugh for one reason or another.  He attended graduate school at Manchester College where he learned to speak Latin and received a degree. He then received a law degree at Indiana University.  During his work career, Joe worked as an attorney and later owned and operated a lawn irrigation business.

The first time I met Joe he was wearing a pink polo, shorty shorts, and old man shoes and socks.  As the son of the lady he was dating, it was hard not to start cleaning my gun.  Life as I know it with Joe began officially on July 24^th, 2004 when he married my mother, Carol whom he loved very much.  They were married for almost 8 years and had an extraordinary life together, especially during the time since their move to Wyoming until his death on May 29^th when he suffered his second heart attack. 

Joe had fought valiantly to overcome many, many medical conditions, especially during the last two years.  But, people who knew him said he always had a smile on his face and he never complained about his life’s circumstances.

Joe was baptized as a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints and was later sealed for time and all eternity to my mother.  He served as the second counselor in the bishopric of the Tifton Ward in Georgia where he was responsible for the Primary children’s program.  He also enjoyed working with the Boy Scouts and for the last year, he volunteered at the Casper Senior Center and was a member of the Kiwanis Club. 

He had several hobbies over the years which included hunting, fishing and basketball.  He loved watching NASCAR races and football. He loved going off to places unknown with my mom.

Joe had a sense of humor.  He loved ice cream and huckleberry with a passion.  He wrote poetry, loved yard work and loved his dog, B.J.

He was my stepfather, but I loved him, even though he ALWAYS took my wife’s side on anything.  She could do no wrong in his eyes. I didn’t know him as a man in his younger years, but I did know him as the man who loved my mother, and that’s all I could ask for, for her.  May we be able to remember the good memories and laughs he gave us.

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Various flowers and plants sent by friends and family.  The table display had items brought from home to tell a little bit about Joe.

This table has Joe's cowboy hat and shirt, the picture taken of us in Albuquerque, New Mexico, a poem Joe wrote to me, a listing of things Joe loved and I loved about him and his box of remains.

Weaver girls, Corey, Brian, Steve, Jill and Brianna Shire, me talking to Don Detmers and Amy sitting at the table.

Corey and Brian

Weaver girls and daddy, Brian.

Me and Don Detmers

Derek and Corey

Claire and Brian

Amy, Rachel, Lauren and our neighbor, April.

Brian, me and Bishop Michael Kleinman.

Sheri and Doug Olsen, Kenny Fehyl, Kylie and Shannon Massey, Jocelyn and Summer Anderson.

Me and Derek.

I think this was when Brian was telling me the jalapeno story about him, his brother, Jason, and Joe.