O N E Y E A R

I think about where I was a year ago. How I sat in disbelief in my home. Completely shocked at what my life was going to be from now on. I think about the phone call I received from Dave expecting him to ask what I was bringing home for dinner only to be met with “Coopers gone”. I think about calling my dad to come get me and having to tell him why I needed a ride home from work. I think about calling my sister and telling her she had to stay strong & how seriously she took that (seriously she is one of the strongest people I know). I think about walking up to my baby’s lifeless body under a white sheet, hugging onto my shrieking husband as he sobbed the words “I’m so sorry” to me. The look on his face is so engraved into my brain it still kills me sometimes. I think about watching my dad walk up to the scene and seeing him so broken. I think about Dustins face, I could tell he was devastated even though he had no idea who we were. Every time I drive home I see the road lined with emergency vehicles & neighbors. I think about sitting in the rocking chair out front as I watched our family come down our driveway with tears in their eyes. I still wait to be met at the door with a “mommy” and a hug. A year later and the ache I feel still feels like the day it happened. 

 

I remember waking up the next morning expecting to roll over and see our sweet boy only to be met with the realization that this wasn’t just a dream. I remember sitting at my moms surrounded by family and my heart was so heavy but I couldn’t let the world see that side of me yet, so I sat silently. I remember waking up everyday and going outside immediately because I couldn’t stand to be locked inside. I needed the air to hit my face and remind me to breathe. I think about being surrounded by our family for weeks and feeling so much love and support in a time where I just wanted to curl up and slowly fade away. I remember waking up every night multiple times to make sure my husband was still breathing because I couldn’t stand the thought of losing him too. I think about the phone calls I made and the choices we were forced to make. I remember feeling overwhelmed with this new part of life and trying to wrap my head around how we would move forward with so much heaviness. 

 

I can vividly remember sitting in the front of my moms house surrounded by people and thinking I wish it was next Labor Day. I won’t feel so anxious and I’ll have moved on. I won’t be crying or nauseated everyday. I won’t feel so much ache in my entire body and maybe I’ll even be happy again. I can remember staring at everyone and acting like I was part of these conversations happening when really I was still just trying to figure out how to get out of this miserable dream. I so badly wanted to rewind and fast forward all at the same time. I just wanted the pain to go away & for some reason I felt like if a year had gone by I’d be okay again. 

 

I’m not really sure why a year was the timeframe I was stuck on or why I thought it would be better. A year later isn’t really what I imagined it to be. It’s been a year and I still cry. I still long for my sweet boys snuggles and hugs. I still ache throughout my entire body when I miss him. I still have  anxiety attacks and emotional meltdowns. I still have days where I just can’t get out of bed. I still have days when I scream at God to make this pain go away. I realize I can’t bring Cooper back but the reality of facing that really sucks. It’s been a year and I still don’t understand why this moment has been so significant to me but we’re here & we’re okay. 

 

I guess maybe because after the first year we know what missing him at all the events feels like or maybe because I truly thought that grief faded away. I just know that a year later the grief hasn’t gotten easier but we’ve learned to live along side grief. We’ve learned that it’s okay to talk about our baby, cry when we need and take days to recover or sleep if that’s what we need. This year has been our hardest but also provided the most growth. We’ve both evolved as people in a good way. 

 

A year later, this is what I’d like to tell you: 

 

Life sucks sometimes but you can learn to be okay if you choose. 

 

You aren’t promised tomorrow with your family so don’t let the last thing you say be something you’d regret. 

 

You never know what may trigger someone’s grief or trauma so don’t be offended if someone doesn’t respond the way you expect. 

 

Take the extra time to slow down and have patience with your kids; they are learning too. 

 

Tell your spouse you love them anytime you can & always make time to remind each other why you fell in love. One day your babies will grow up and move out & you’re left just you and your spouse. Don’t let them be a stranger. 

 

Embrace the chaos of the messes in life. If your house is a mess it’s filled with love & family & memories. Enjoy it while you still have it. 

 

You are always stronger than you think. Just have a little faith in yourself. 

 

It’s okay to take care of yourself first. Always. 

 

Mostly, I just want you to know that time is precious so don’t wait to do what you want to do with your life, tell the people you love just how much you love them & don’t go to bed mad. 

 

As I reflect on the last year I can’t help but be grateful for all of the wonderful things that have come from such a tragic situation. Our marriage has grown to be stronger than ever. Our family has always been close but our love & appreciate for each other has only grown. We helped provide Christmas for so many families that may not have gotten to celebrate otherwise. We’ve been able to give back to this community in so many ways in honor of Cooper. As we move into a new chapter of this crazy life I hope to continue Coopers legacy. I hope we are blessed enough to be able to continue giving back, supporting other people around us & being there for others who may be struggling with the same thing. If I can continue to find positives out of our situation then our hearts will continue to heal. 

 

Our lives have changed, our hearts are still stitched together with memories and pictures, our brains still have a grief fog to them but we’re still standing, hand in hand together, stronger than a year and one day ago. People ask how we are so strong & honestly I’d love to give you a story but it’s by the Grace of God. Our faith in God has gotten us through some of the worst days. I refuse to be angry at God or turn on him because I know he has a plan & Coopers time had been fulfilled. I encourage you to really lean into your faith if you are struggling. Without God & a whole lotta prayers we’d be lost. 

 

To my people, here we are a year later. We survived. We survived all of our first holidays & family vacations. We celebrated all our first milestones without Cooper. We made it through birthdays, seasons, life events. It’s been important to me to continue to do things like we would if Cooper was still here because I know he would want that & we did! We survived the first year of making memories without our boy & we’re still standing. A year ago I had no idea how we would get here or if we would get here, but, we did & I am so damn proud of us.

 

To my husband, I love you. I love you more today than I did 366 days ago. You are the strongest man I know. You’ve taken this journey by the horns and smashed every goal you’ve set. I still stand in awe of all the things you’ve overcome on your own this year. Your dedication to us, our family and this life we’ve built even after this last year absolutely amazes me. You have & will forever be the best daddy & don’t ever allow 5 seconds and a freak accident to change your mind on that. You deserve the world my love. I wish you could see yourself through my eyes because I think you’d let go of the guilt and self hate you feel. You keep me strong, you remind me everyday why we fell in love & even in your worst times you’ve shown me grace. I love you more than you’ll ever know. 

 

Here’s to another year embracing this crazy, emotional journey we call life. 

 

-For The Love of Coop