Year Two: The Ache That Lingers

Eric

Everyone told me it would get easier with time. But here I am—deep in the second year—and it hurts even more than ever.

The world expects me to be “better,” as if healing follows a schedule. But the truth is, I still cry every night. I stare at the pillow with your face; you're smiling so big, and I miss that too. My heart still feels shattered. I still reach for you, and when I wake and realize you are still gone, it hurts all over again. 

I'm learning that grief isn’t a linear process. It isn’t a task to complete. It’s not something I’ll ever “get over.” It has changed me—reshaped me. It’s become a part of me, woven into my everyday life. I'm trying to embrace it, but I fail daily.

Grief is complicated because it’s invisible. From the outside, people think I look fine. But no one sees the weight I carry—the lump in my throat, the restless knots in my stomach, or the fatigue of pretending I’m okay.

You were my anchor, my peace, the one who helped me breathe when the world felt too heavy. Without you, I'm missing half of myself.

Still, I move forward. I carry the absence with me like a shadow. Some days, the grief is a soft whisper. Other days, it’s a storm I can barely stand. But always, it’s full of love in my heart.

I am enduring learning to coexist with the sorrow. And even though I don't feel whole, I am still here. I've changed, I've grown in so many ways since you left. 

Haleigh will still not talk or text me. My heart hurts, but I need to move on with my life without her. I miss her terribly and know this would really hurt you too. I may never see her or my grandchildren again. So much has changed in my life, and I no longer have the energy to put into this. I'm not getting younger, and I want to build more healthy and fun relationships with our children who kinda like me. Kayla says I was not supposed to be reaching out to Haleigh; I never received the memo about no contact, and I have been sending her random texts when I think of her, just saying "I love you" or "I miss you."

I can feel Heavenly Father near. I feel you cheering me on in the quiet moments. And while I may not be alone, I am deeply, quietly lonely. 

I've made a decision to serve in the Mesa Temple. I'm waiting for the call telling me they have some space. It'll only be one day a week, but I want to be there as much as possible now. I have also decided to serve a mission. So in two years, when I retire, I hope to be healthy enough to serve. You know it's something I have always dreamed of. I wanted to go when I was twenty-one, and that didn't happen because you happened. Then you promised me you and I would serve a mission together, you promised me. I don't know what 'our mission' is, Eric. It could go either way: 

1. I am healthy enough in two years, and I serve alone, but for both of us.

or

2. I leave this life and serve with you on the other side. 

I guess I win either way. I love you so much and just want to do everything right while you are gone so I can run into your arms as I cross the veil. 

XoXo Monya

The Day the Silence Spoke Back

 

Dear Frenchie,

There was a time I believed that once someone passed, they were simply gone—out of reach, out of touch, out of time. The physical pain of your absence has been unbearably hard. The silence I’ve felt is so loud, it hurts.

But then something changed.

Slowly, quietly, profoundly—I began to hear you. To feel you with me.

It didn’t happen all at once. It started with a whisper of intuition, a warmth in a room where I stood alone, a flicker of a memory that came alive in real time. I thought I was imagining it—but I desperately wanted it to be real. Over time, those feelings returned, again and again, with clarity, with power, and with love.

Grief cracked me wide open. And in that open space, your spirit found room to enter my heart and soul. Thank you for that.

I’ve realized that spirits don’t always come with flashing lights or dramatic signs. Often, it’s subtle. It’s the beautiful sunsets and the wondrous sunrises I now love to wake up to.
It’s the song that plays when I’m thinking of you.
It’s the memory of you learning the Stanky Leg and how happy that made you.
It’s the feather on my doorstep or the ladybugs that continue to show up.
The dream that felt more like a visit than a vision.
It’s the way my body chills just before a wave of peace washes over me.

The more I’ve leaned into trust, the stronger the connection has grown. I began talking to you—first out loud, then in thought, and sometimes just through tears. And always, you responded—in your own way. Not in words, but in presence. A presence so unmistakable, I can only call it sacred.

I’ve come to understand: love doesn’t die. Energy doesn’t end. And your spirit hasn’t abandoned me. Quite the opposite—you have stepped into my heart and reassured me that you are with me anytime I need to tap into that spirit.

Because of your visits, I’ve learned to stop and enjoy the small things—like you did during that year and a half before you passed away. My awareness is palpable. Strikingly overwhelming at times, but I am grateful for the continued lessons I’m learning about you.

I’ve learned to meditate by sitting in the silence, breathing air into my lungs, and feeling your presence wrap around me like a soft embrace. I only remember the good times we shared. I don’t take your presence lightly—it is profound.

Our loved ones are not “lost.” They are transformed. They walk with us, whisper to us, and when we get quiet enough to listen—they answer.

Your mom did that with me after she passed—her first visit was when I had to be resuscitated during a very long and dangerous surgery. It only lasted a few minutes, but what took place with her seemed like much longer. When I opened my eyes, I was in Heaven. Your mom was there, holding her arms out, wanting me to run into them—and I did. Her eyes were as blue as I remembered, like the Caribbean Sea. She told me Heavenly Father had asked her to visit with me, and she instructed me about three things I still needed to do here on earth.

On that visit, your dad was there too. I hugged him and felt the strength of his embrace. I told him I didn’t want to go back—that my life was too hard. He didn’t hesitate. He waved his hand to his left and said, “Do you see those children playing? Those are your grandchildren, and they need your influence and example in their lives. Now it is time for you to return to your life on earth.”

Then he looked at your mother and said something I later found peculiar: “It’s time for Monya to go back to her life on earth, and it’s time for you and I to get back to work.” Get back to work? What did that mean? I had so many questions as I tried to process what had happened to me that day.

The second time your mother appeared to me was in a dream. We walked through a beautiful garden as she explained one of her “jobs” in Heaven—she oversaw the garden. She asked me about you, whether you were treating me with love and respect, just as Ray had treated her. She asked if I was happy. We talked about spiritual things, and I remembered why I loved her so much. She still continues to visit me in dreams.

I felt it when my brother, Lance, passed away. I carried shame and guilt, wondering if I had taken him to the hospital that night instead of worrying about him keeping me awake, could I have saved him?

But when Lance visited me not long after his death, he placed his hand on mine as I prayed about him. I reveled in those moments, eyes closed, listening as he spoke. I heard him as if he were alive and standing beside me. He said:

"Monya, my death is not your fault. It was my time to go, and I am happy. Now it’s time for you to move out of Mom and Dad’s house and start living. Go and enjoy your new life with Eric—he is a good person."

And then he was gone.

When Jami was diagnosed with breast cancer, I knew I needed to visit her—but I didn’t. I felt uncomfortable. How could I face someone I loved so much, someone who had already suffered so deeply?

After her death, I punished myself with guilt for not going to her. That pain became even harder to bear when I was diagnosed with breast cancer myself.

But I began to pray about Jami, and the spirit I felt was hers. She assured me she knew I loved her—and she understood why I didn’t come. She told me that now, having received the same diagnosis, I would understand. She reminded me to focus on the fight ahead of me. She told me I would be blessed through the process, and that Heavenly Father would never leave my side.

She was right. I didn’t waste energy worrying about who came to visit or who said the wrong things. I gave grace—because I remembered how I felt with Jami. And when I told you that story, you were mesmerized. You asked why you’d never had experiences like that.

I’ll never forget what I said:
You didn’t need the reassurance like I did.

For me, those spiritual encounters kept me grounded, alive, conscious. They carried me when I felt I couldn’t go on. It wasn’t always easy—in fact, it was humiliating at times—but I made it through.

And finally—there was Black Rock Beach.

The Lord allowed you to visit me in the very place where you took your last breath. I believe He escorted you there and left us to share sacred time together.

You told me you saw me on the beach that day—you knew I would never be the same again. You told me about where you are. You said you are so happy, that where you are, there are no negative feelings or thoughts. You said Heaven is real—it’s the most beautiful place you’ve ever seen. Then you shared your spiritual connection with Heaven and the life you now have. It was the first time I had ever seen you in this light, and it was so refreshing.

You told me you were excited that you were allowed to visit me. And that I have a gift—a gift to feel the spirits of those we love who have passed.

You told me you knew you couldn’t help me any other way—but visiting me was enough. It was everything. You shared your love for the Lord and assured me He lives and loves us all. Those spiritual thoughts you shared with me are my favorite—because I had never heard you speak with such intention.

I know now, without a doubt, that there is life after death. And I know I am able to tune into those frequencies when needed. I didn’t want our moment to end. But when it did, I looked at my watch, stunned that we had spent four hours together.

I treasure your love and your presence in my life. I feel you often. And I am eternally grateful to Heavenly Father for that day on the beach—and for the life we shared.

As rocky as the beginning of our marriage was, I will always be proud of us—of our grit and determination to keep going. The world said we were a statistic, that we’d never make it. But we did. And we both know we had a beautiful love story. It is more evident to me now how much you love me.

Thank you for loving me the way you have, and for continuing to show me your beautiful, vulnerable heart. I love this part of you.

Now, when I feel that gentle tug in my soul—or the warmth over my entire body—I no longer wonder. I know.

I am a special daughter of God, protected and guided by the spirits of those who love me.

I am not alone.
I never was.
And neither are you.

I am in love with our eternal companionship.

I love you. And I look forward to seeing you again.

Love,
Me, your cute wifey

Easter 2025

 

Hello, my lover. I have been so busy; trying to move from a 5,000-square-foot home to a 2,100-square-foot home has kept me on my toes.

Yesterday I was very nice. I had the kids and grandchildren over to our Gilbert home for one last dinner and Golden Egg hunt. As the grands hunted for the eggs, I could hear you in my head as each one of them found their egg with $20 in it. You were cheering them on and giving me a little wink as they each successfully hunted. I miss your cute belly laugh and smile. 

Today is Easter, and I went to my new ward. I feel good there, the people are so kind. Remember when we were deciding to move from the house on Cove, we hunted for land, but what was most important to me was the ward. I will never forget the spirit we felt as we visited the sixth ward. I felt that same spirit as people introduced themselves and asked if I was new to the area. It's a good ward, with a mix of children, youth, and mostly retired folks our age. Today was my third week, and I felt welcomed.

I grew up spiritually in that ward. With so many people to help build my testimony of Christ. Today, I remembered that Jesus Christ's sacrifice assures me we will see each other again.

I arrived a little late to church and sat in the foyer, gazing at the life-size picture of Christ, picturing Him with you, and conversing with Him. I know He lives, and I will see you again. I'm not sure how our Heavenly Father, knowing he could take his son's pain away, but didn't because of His plan. That had to be so hard. It is unimaginable for any parent to comprehend. 

The grandchildren are getting so big. Haleigh and her family were unable to attend. She sent me pictures of them today, and boy, they are getting big. Ellis is so tall, and Sena looked as sweet as ever. She reminds me so much of Haleigh when she was Sena's age. Haleigh has always been a kind and gentle child. What a joy it was to raise her! I'll never forget her senior year of High School. I was going through a lot, and she would come home to see how I was doing. Many times, she would crawl up into the bed next to me, no words needed; just being present was all we both required. Haleigh was my most prominent advocate during my cancer journey, and she doesn't even know it.

I have been spending a lot of time with Kayla. Currently, she and Jeremy are separated, and I doubt their marriage will survive. Kayla is an excellent mom and a great listener. I understand her now, and I know Autism a little better because of her and watching her with the boys, she has the patience of Job. Recker is fifteen, and he is BIG like Jeremy. He repeats what we say most of the time, so I know he understands us. I say I love you, and he says it back in his own way. Ezra is so sweet. The other day, he was at the house, and when he walked to the car, he turned around and ran back to me for a huge hug. It brought me to tears. Teddy is also kind and caring. He is a little confused about his parents separating.

You would be so proud of Blake. He has helped me a lot this past year. You know he's a mama's boy? He is a hard worker, a great husband, and an incredible dad. Chloe is working at Denver's office and seems to really enjoy it. Weslie, oh sweet Wes, she is a dancer like her mom, and she loves it. Yesterday, she kept hugging me and wanted to know when she could have a 'sleepover'. You know how much I love that! She asked me about Papa yesterday. I wasn't sure what to say. I never want to say something that her parents wouldn't want me to. I told her how much you still love her and that one day, when I leave, I will get to be with you again. She listened, but I'm not sure if she understood. She wants to know where you are physically.

Kaitlyn and Brian are great. Kaitlyn works from home and enjoys her job a lot. She is good at what she does, and I'm proud of her in so many ways. Brian works hard, and I'm glad that they continue to rely on the Lord for help when needed. I asked Brian if he would come and dedicate this new home at the Reserve. Of course, he said he would. He is solid in the Gospel, and I'm glad he is Kaitlyn's love. Phoenix is ten years old now and getting so big. He loves soccer and football. He loves life and has many friends. Archie, you know how I feel about that boy! He has this way of melting my heart. Kaitlyn said he's sneaky, but I've never seen that side of him. That boy can do no wrong. I love how much he and Phoenix love Florence. I feel sorry for the guys who want to date her. Eric, Florence is so special. There is something very spiritual about her. Everyone who is around her loves her. The other day, she said to me, "Do you know Jesus died for all of us?" Oh my heart, I answered her, "Yes, He did, and He loves you, He loves all the people in the whole world." She's a lot like Kaitlyn was with the faces she makes. Every time she sees me, she runs with her arms wide open and yells, "Bonbon."

I'm glad we had these kids of ours, every one of them has a piece of my heart. They are all responsible, good people, and so are their spouses.

I used to tell you how sad it was that they never knew your mom. Now I'm sorry that they may forget you. I try to remind them, especially the little ones, how much you love them.

I love you and always will.

Love, Monya

How Long Does it Take to Move?

Oh, babe, I love you so much, but the memories we collected in this home with our beautiful children are hard to leave behind. I have them etched in my mind, though. We had such a successful life, and I thank you for that.

It's taken me two months to review all the receipts and bank statements you saved to find proof about Dana. Kayla helped me by taking bags home to go through. We finished last night, and I am glad that it is over. I used to get so upset with you about leaving receipts and unopened mail everywhere. I never appreciated why you did that, but I do now, and a Big Thank You. We found a lot. But I must admit there were times when I wanted to be mad at you.

I'm scared, nervous, and eager all at once. A new way of life is coming. By the way, I don't like it! I walk into that new house and have no feelings; I don't care. None of this means anything if I can't share it with you.

I remember when you and I lived in our first home on Seneca. You were so worried about being able to provide for Kayla and me, and it was hard on you. I can see us sitting on the sofa together as you explained the pressure you were feeling. I said, "I could live in a shoebox with you and be happy. Money? It's just not that important." I soon realized it was to you.

When we got engaged, I remember your mom explaining the personalities of each of her children. When she talked about you, she always looked at me with those beautiful blue eyes and would tell me how happy she was that you had chosen me and me to be together as a family. But she warned me. She said, "Don't let Eric love money more than he loves his family." You never did; I always knew what was important to you. No one in the world knows you better than I do. Even though you were successful in the real estate market, you never let that get to your head. You were humble and kind, and I miss that. I didn't realize how well known and successful you were until you departed from this world. You loved real estate and loved making money, but never more than you loved our family.

I'll be moving soon, and I'm unsure how to gracefully do that without you. Thank you for loving me when I wasn't sure I deserved it. We had a beautiful love story. I just wish you understood the importance of that to me. Remarriage is not in my plans. I know I could never find someone as special as you, and I don't want to try.

I hope you are enjoying your new, beautiful life. Thinking about your reunion with your parents makes me tear up. I look forward to seeing and hugging them again, but for now, I move forward every day, hoping to make you proud of me.

I love you

Monya

I Closed on the House

 Eric, today I did my walk-through of the house I purchased. I had Blake and Kayla with me. Not much needed to be fixed. I did ask them to take down the railing in the front so that I could put chairs out and have room to sit. Seriously, though, am I ever going to sit out front? It seems like a weird thing, but most of the houses here have chairs in front of their homes. So you know ... I had to do the same thing! 

My stomach turned as I signed the closing papers, making me sick. I'm secretly holding back from saying I don't want to move. I want to be in our home, the home you and I built together all those years ago. There are many 'things' I want but can't have. One of them is you. I want you back. I want us back. Since the house was being built, I only drove to it twice. Terry sent me pictures of it moving along in the construction process. But honestly, I couldn't care less. 

After I left the closing, I went home and cried. I know this house is just a structure, but the memories we made here are what I'm leaving behind. I feel very guilty, like I shouldn't be making decisions without you. 

I put beams in our bedroom and my office, and brick on the walls, too. I also added a bathtub to the master bath—you know I can't wait for that first bubble bath. I added a TV right above the bathtub. Remember when we went to see Tim McGraw and Faith Hill in Las Vegas, and our hotel had the TV over the bath? Yeah, like that. My favorite is the bathtub, but the ice machine comes in a close second. I know you wouldn't have chosen any of those options, or add-ons, but I plan on staying in this house; I never want to move again. It's hard work.

I can't tell you enough how much I miss you, your smell, your smile, your rolling eyes at me, the cute smile you give me, and even your runs to Costco and Sam's Club. I'm trying to stay busy, and the move distracts me. I hope to fit in at the new home. It's so weird to go to church without you. At least in the 6th ward, they knew me and understood why I couldn't smile. I really don't want to tell that story over and over again.

I loved being your wife and a part of the Williams family. They have always treated me better than my own family. Your mom and dad are the best ever. I miss them too. Thank you for loving me in the good, the bad, the ugly, and through sickness and health. But the best promises we made to each other are what will bring us back together again.

See You Soon

Monya

Christmas 2024

 You've been gone for ten months now. This is our first Christmas without you. Last night, all I could think about was how many times I drove with you on Christmas Eve to get gift cards for the kids. You loved Christmas, and it's always been a big part of our children's lives. Now, looking back on years past, I want to establish traditions that our children and grandchildren will remember long after I am gone to be with you. I'm not good at traditions, well, coming up with them, so I'll have to ask around.

I woke up, looked at your face on the pillow, and wished you a Merry Christmas. I took a shower and got ready for the day. This year, I didn't put much effort into Christmas decorating. It didn't seem right without you. Nothing seems right without you. I'm still trying to process the fact that you are gone, and what a terribly tragic event I had to watch on that beach when you left me. The nightmares are unbearable.

This Christmas was very quiet; none of the kids came over. I drove to Blake and Chloe's and then Kaitlyn and Brian's homes. Sadly, our grandchildren will not know you and the fun you brought to this family, especially on Christmas Day. Thank you for all the years and Christmases we spent together; they were magical. Oh, and Dr. Lettieri called me today to check on me. I thought that was really sweet of him.

I made fun of you when I opened a Kathy Lee Watch because I knew where you bought it, Walmart, and the night before Christmas. You and Mike Scow went out shopping, buying anything you could just to make us all happy. I still have that watch, and it's in the same box it came in. You swore up and down it wasn't from Walmart, but I knew they were the ones who sold Kathy Lee Watches. We got a lot of laughs out of that. You were such a good sport when I made fun of it. 

I keep thinking about Christmases past and cannot think of one that wasn't full of fun and joy because it was so important to you. When we had our first Christmas together after we got married, we had Kayla and Blake. They were so little, but you made sure Kayla felt extra special that day. Blake, of course, was only a few months old, so we knew he wouldn't remember anyway. I'm sure Kayla doesn't either, but you bought her a little doll, and she loved it. 

I was alone most of the day, and I was okay with it until it got dark. I knew I would be walking up those stairs to bed alone. Now I'm sitting on our bed looking at your pillow and wondering what you are doing today. I wish I knew exactly what happens after death, all I know for sure is that I will see you again, and the covenants that we made in the Temple to each other will be worth this loneliness I'm feeling now. Eternity with you sounds perfect.

I love you so much

Merry Christmas babe

Monya

The Profound Experience in Maui

                                         My Profound Experience in Maui

Eric, I needed to discover the truth for myself. I scheduled appointments with the Maui police and the coroner, who handled your case after your passing. I felt compelled to meet with them and ask some questions; otherwise, I might not have gathered the courage to do so.

I booked a flight to Maui for December and eagerly anticipated my trip for three months before my departure. To prepare spiritually for what I would discover in Maui, I dedicated myself to reading my scriptures more diligently and praying regularly. I rented a condo nearby and spent almost a week there before my meetings. You know me—I needed time to pace the floor and worry about everything. I stayed in the condo, only venturing out for one meal a day and a glimpse of the sunsets over the ocean.

Oh, and I forgot: Linda and Kevin Bennett were there, so I met them one night for dinner. I treasure my friendship with Linda. She kept me sane while I endured the hell I was forced to endure growing up. She is my oldest friend, and I will always love her. Sadly, Jami died so early in life, or I'd still be in touch with her, too.

My first meeting was with the police. Meeting the officer who helped me out of the sand and onto the path to the ambulance was so nice of him. I didn't remember what he looked like until I saw him again. He gave me a hug and asked how I'd been doing. Typically, people just say, "I'm fine," but I wasn't fine or good; I've been driving myself crazy since your death. I asked the police if they knew the people who were witnesses. They said they keep those names confidential and asked why I wanted them. I really didn't have a solid reason to want their names. It was just making small talk, I guess. I forgot to bring the notebook. I'd been writing my questions for the police, and I freaking forgot to take it in with me. I didn't have many questions for them; I just wanted to thank them for their help. They confirmed to me what was on the death certificate: you drowned.

The next day, I met with the two coroners who performed your autopsy. I wanted to know if they knew you were gone before the EMTs worked on you for 45 minutes, then announced you dead at exactly 12:45. They told me more than likely you were gone before they pulled you out of the water. My eyes began to tear up, and they knew this would be a complicated conversation for me. From that point on, they controlled the narrative. I was told that none of your organs were inflamed or had new damage, including your heart. My own heart began pumping hard, and I thought I was going to throw up. I kept shaking my head no, as they continued, I was in a full-on ugly cry just remembering what I could of that awful day. 

For months, I've been having these nightmares about your last few minutes of life and how scared you must have been. I've felt guilty, asking myself if I had paid better attention, if I could have saved you. I learned from these men that you died a dry drowning. "I don't know what that is," they told me. Most people don't, and that's okay. Dry drowning is found mainly in toddlers learning how to swim. They take in too much air and hold it in their lungs. They usually don't show signs of anything being wrong, but do not wake up the next morning. He continued by saying that in Hawaii, when adults drown and there is no water in their lungs, the first thing they want to know is if this person has had heart issues. Maybe that is why the EMTs asked me while they were working on you if you had ever had heart issues. The conclusion was that you were in rough waters and got scared or panicked, then maybe fainted, and that is when you left me. They also said they were sure you felt no pain. I left there with a clearer understanding, and things began to make sense. They were so patient and kind that I was grateful to have received the answers I needed from them.

On my last day in Maui, I woke up, knelt to pray, and asked Heavenly Father to give me strength again. I drove to Black Rock Beach and sat in the car, listening for answers, but nothing came. I brought something to sit on and my journal to remember everything if anything came to me. As I walked the path you and I had held hands walking to the beach only ten months before, I could feel the pain beginning to resurface. I stopped momentarily, where Jori and I sat, remembering you hugging me and our last kiss. Then you said, "I love you. I'll see you soon." I wondered why you used that phrase; you'd never said that to me before. I've always said, "See you soon," when a loved one died, but it was weird to hear you say the exact phrase. As you and Dwight walked towards the water, Jori snapped a picture of the two of you walking. Little did I know that would be the last picture of you alive. I put on my headphones and sat in the shade, listening to Hilary Weeks' music. Not long after, two women ran down the beach screaming my name and Jori's. I knew at that very moment it was you, something had happened to you! I remember running and falling in the sand. I could not get to you fast enough. 

That is when my life changed forever. I watched as you were pulled out of the water; you were blue, and I knew you were gone. I sat next to you and watched as they tried to revive you. When they called it, I screamed, "No, please no, don't leave me." That's when the police officer came and helped me up and into the ambulance. It was all coming back to me. I was living it all over again, only with a different perspective. 

I continued down the beach to sit where you left this life. Something amazing, only God could do, happened next. I wrote this in my journal as I sat and tried to recall everything that had happened.

    I just want the Lord to help me escape this storm I can't seem to get away from. People ask what they can do to help. I wish I knew what to tell them. I want to be brave and keep moving forward, but feel alone. I'm barely hanging on. It's been almost ten months since I lost my favorite person, my sweet husband, in this very spot where I sit now. I pray every morning and night for the Lord to help me keep going, trying to appear strong; yet, I still sometimes question why this happened, why you? I don't think I've met anyone who loved life more than you. I was supposed to go first. As I sit here, I hear families enjoying each other, lovers walking hand in hand down the beach, trying to comprehend all this. I can feel Eric guiding me and the spirit telling me what to do and how to march on, but I'm scared. 

    I think about our life together as the waves come in and out. Like the waves, some things pull us out to sea, but we always continue to have faith and look to our Heavenly Father. He always pulled us back to shore safely and we grew increasingly more in love.  He is always there. We have to ask him for help sometimes, but we have to. Eric went into those waves and was brought back to shore so that his spirit could be released back to his home, just as Heavenly Father had planned. He knew that day when Eric said, "See you soon," I'd need that to help me through until I see you again. February 21st, 2024, was the day planned for you to go home to your mom and dad. 

   As I stared at the waves coming in and out, it suddenly became quiet. I could feel Him with me, the spirit was strong, and I was confused, until I saw you sitting beside me. Was this real? You were so young and perfect in every way. You said, "Hello, sweetheart."

You had the biggest smile on your face, I couldn't touch you, but I could see and hear you. It was only you and me on the beach at that moment. I was sure it was another dream, like I dreamed about your mom when she died, and when I was going through my own battle with cancer, she would visit me often. No, this was real. I was experiencing something. You softly said, "Don't cry, I am so happy. I'm with mom and dad." I began to ask questions, some of which you couldn't answer, but one you did that was so important for me and the kids to know was, "Were you scared? Did you have pain?" You told me there's nothing negative about where you live, nothing at all. Then you confirmed that you did not die in pain and that you are no longer scared, like you were here on earth. It's beautiful where you are, and that God is real. You told me you watched me on the beach after your spirit left your body, and that you could see the fear and pain I was feeling, but could do nothing about it. You told me to be happy and to continue attending the Temple. Which is something I've struggled with doing since you've been gone. You promised me that the covenants we made are sacred, and you always wanted me to remember them. Especially on the hard days when a tear or two you knew would come. 

We talked about family, and you reassured me that no matter what decisions our children make, you and I did our best, and that we should stop worrying about that. You said it's something too many of us, especially mothers, worry about. You reassured me that Jesus Christ lives and loves all of God's children. When you said, "Believe me, Heavenly Father is proud of you." You reminded me of the strength I've had over the years. One of the things you said I will always keep close to my heart is this; I knew before I came to earth that I would face challenges but if I stayed close to the Lord He would bless me through all of it and I would grow into the woman he designed me to be because of those trials. 

You told me to give Him my heart and that He only sees my beauty from within. I cried, as I thought about how many times you told me how beautiful I was, even after my facial paralysis. I never believed you because I could look in the mirror and see what I look like, but I will never doubt again that our Heavenly Father doesn't see those scars. Thank you for that. You knew I needed to hear it. You whispered to me one last time, "You are beautiful." I turned my head, embarrassed by my tears, as the sounds of the families on the beach and the waves crashing against the shore grew louder. You were gone. I looked at my phone, and it had been four hours. I knew Jesus escorted you to me, knowing I had prepared myself spiritually, then allowed you to sit with me and answer my questions. 

You are now doing God's work, serving as a salesman of the Gospel as you continue to be a missionary. I am so proud of you. I will be with you again, I promise to keep those covenants you and I made all those years ago. My love for you is eternal, sacred, and deeply profound. Now it's time to be the best I can be, to serve others, and to prepare to see you again. You know you will always be in my heart. This isn't goodbye. I'll see you soon.

Love,

Monya

Our First and Last Thanksgiving

 Hey Frenchie-

I am so overwhelmed and feel like I have no one I can trust to talk to. You were my one and done, my first and last lover. The day I leave this earth will be the happiest day of my life, for I will get to look into your beautiful eyes and hold you in my arms. Oh, what a day that will be. By then, you will have everyone convinced Donald Trump was the best President the world has ever had; it probably won't go quite like that, but I can dream. 

Yesterday was Thanksgiving, Eric; you would have loved it. Chloe is organized, you know? She called me and asked what the plan was for Thanksgiving. The next thing I knew, she had everyone's responsibility to bring for dinner. Blake Chloe made the Turkey, and it was unbelievably good. Kaitlyn and Brian's little family. Kaitlyn made that raspberry jello salad. She tried to tell us it was a salad. Who's she kidding? That was our favorite dessert. She also made cream cheese with spicy cranberry jelly dip appetizer; you would have loved her sweet potatoes, too. I am trying to remember everything that was brought, but it was the best ever. I missed having Haleigh and Scott. She is still not talking to me, but I am no longer taking on anyone else's drama; I can't do that again. I would love to talk to her, and I think it is sad I don't get to see Ellis & Sena, but I cannot control this, so I'm letting it go.

Kayla went to New Mexico with Jeremy. His sister Megan was in a severe car accident with her family and Eric; it was terrible. Her husband and all of her children died. Megan was pregnant, so they had to do an emergency C-section, and that sweet little baby also died. I believe she was carrying her sixth child. I can't imagine waking up in the hospital and being told that my entire family was gone. She has strong faith, and that is what carried her through when her daughter died a few years ago. This is different; there is no husband to lean on. I hope her faith will carry her through this trial. I pray for her every day.

I hoped the entire family would see the importance of being together for the first Thanksgiving without you and our last one in this house. You know what? I was grateful to the ones who could come. Kaitlyn said, "Mom, you made a perfect chocolate pie, I love it." That truly made my heart break. Do you know when you remember those moments as a child and no one else does? This was like that. I automatically thought of my mom. She only complimented me when she said I had the remarkable ability to forgive people. I remember where I was standing, what I was wearing, and how incredible it made me feel to have my mom acknowledge me in such a way. I will never forget this moment when Kaitlyn complimented me. I loved it. I also loved hearing the kids talk about fun memories with you. 

The night before Thanksgiving is usually the night you and I—well, really me—stay in the kitchen all day, wanting Thanksgiving to be perfect. You always went to Costco at the last minute for a sale on Pumpkin pie, and you were my run-errands and pick-up last-minute things from the store guy. I miss you coming in with that sly look like you thought you were in trouble with Two Turkey in hand. Every year, I would ask, "When will we eat another Turkey before our next Thanksgiving?" It bugged me so much because the following year, you would want to donate it; well, you always wanted expired food to go to a shelter or donated somewhere, and every year, I would tell you, "Let's find a family who could use it this year."That never happened. I miss those little things. Every year, there was an argument about who I was inviting and whether we had enough tables and chairs- you knew we did. Your passive aggressiveness was saying, "Can you clean the tables and chairs so I don't have to do it?" It bugged me then, but I've changed since you left me. I can only control myself, and I've been leading with compassion towards people who say things that are just stupid- bless their hearts. They just don't understand the depth of loneliness I feel.

I'm packing up the house and don't want to get involved in the attack—ugh—but you know I will get up on that ladder and start throwing things out. If there is something worth keeping, I will save it, but honestly, what were we thinking putting my old vinyl records up there? I'm sure they are cracked and wilted by now. There is certainly a lot to keep me busy for a few months. How in the world did we accumulate so much crap? I need to find out how much it will cost to have the city drop off a large garbage bin. I also need to call about getting someone to come to our house and shred everything that was essential papers. I know how important that was to you. 

Overall, our Thanksgiving was wonderful. Everyone got along, but everyone missed you, and I left your end seat empty—no one sat in it. 

I love you to infinity, but I need some strength right now. I will ask Brother Arnold to give me a blessing. I pray every night and don't get answers, so I am overthinking this whole thing. I don't know why people think when someone dies that, the spouse is automatically taken care of and that I should have money to spare. My Uncle Mike will lose his house because their contractor skipped town with their money. I don't know why they would pay them upfront. He called me crying and asked me to borrow some cash. Eric, you know how much I love him and Auntie Ann, but you taught me to never do business with family again. We've been screwed by too many people, including family. You were the one who would make those decisions. I also received a notice from the IRS saying I owe $78,000.I don't know what to do, but the Alt Key people will look at it. However, on December 1st, it's due, and then they start charging us interest every day until it is paid. Dana won't settle, that stresses me out.

I finally finished my 6th year with Dr. Amen and can legally be a certified life coach. I know that would make you smile. I also finished my book The Happiness Junkie, but I'm not going to have it published. The kids hated it when I published the first book, and even though I am starting a new life without you to help me make decisions, I have to protect my heart from being hurt like that again. I'm finishing the last chapter of Pebbles in My Pockets, but I need to decide about publishing it, too. I have producers calling me from all types of agencies wanting to make I CAN-SURVIVE into a movie and blah blah blah. One of the production companies offered to pay for the entire thing and wanted me to be on set to make sure it was done tastefully. If the kids didn't like me writing a book, they would be against it. The NetFlix contract I signed is now null and void. That was a blessing in disguise, and I got paid for it. A part of me wants to publish Pebbles in My Pockets because it is uplifting and cheerful, but telling the kids would trigger a trigger in me and probably in them, too. I'll keep it private for now. Thank you for helping me with your perspectives.

I have been studying perspectives, and boy, do I have different perspectives now. People react and do things for a reason, and they are all connected to our brains. What I am experiencing grieving over your loss in my life is much different than the kids losing a dad. We knew everything about each other and spent 46 years figuring out life and relationships. It all comes down to perspective. Mine is the memories, good and bad, that taught us how survive in the circumstances we created while we were dating. I blamed you for what you did to me, but now I'm over it, knowing that I didn't come from the same family as you and we were entering a relationship with different perspectives on life, raising kids, your dad and Betty, my mom, and the stepdad. With all that going on, we should have taken the time to be ourselves. I now know and look forward to knowing everyone is dealing with something, and even if we don't have the same perspective, it does not diminish anyone else's. Respect and compassion are where I am now.

I love you, babe, and I know you will guide me.

It's time to put up Christmas and get into the spirit of giving to those less fortunate without judgment. You and I were good at that; you are better than me because you know when to say no. I collect dollar bills in my Jeep, and when I see someone needs them, I give them. 

It's time for bed, and I can't sleep with so much on my mind.

I love you so much and am so glad we were sealed together for eternity. I look forward to holding your hand again.

Love Monya

Unconditional Love

Hey babe, I'm in Utah visiting Teri. Two nights ago, I fell off a ladder and had to stay at the hospital. I hit so hard that it really scared me. But no broken bones, just severe internal bruising on my hip, shoulder leg, and left arm. My neck hurt like hell, too. 

I want to go home so wrong. I've been crying myself to sleep like I did when you left me. We had a wonderful life together. I look around and see so many people struggling to stay together. The only time the 'D' word ever came to my mind was when you had your first heart attack; wow, what a horribly unfortunate time for you and for me. I assumed you wanted to divorce me since I didn't hear from you. 

Now, as I see all our friends getting divorced after so many years of marriage, I am eternally grateful to have you forever. The Lord has truly blessed me. When I think about how easily I could have turned to drugs, alcohol, or worse when I was a youngster, I knew if I continued to pray, I would be blessed. I promised Heavenly Father I'd follow him if he would get me out of that horrible madness I lived in.

Then I found you. I remember being the 'Mormon Nerd, ' which is a good description. I was afraid to do anything wrong until three years into dating YOU. Lol. When I look back at that time, I realize how scared you were to disappoint your dad just after your mom died. I'm so glad you can let go of that shame now. As LDS members, we shame ourselves too much. The closest to a perfect person I have ever met is your mom, and oh, how I miss her.

I would not trade our memories for anything in the world. I know you wish you'd married someone like your mom. I know, I know, you never said it, but I most certainly didn't live up to her standards as a mother. Had she been alive at the beginning of our marriage, I know she would have helped me, then I would have been a better mom. Hine sight is always a crazy thing. I know that I loved each of our children with all my heart and still do even more as I see them turn into beautiful wives and mothers. Blake is a good man, husband, and father. Although you and I never really understood why they let the church, I'm grateful I have learned unconditional love. I just now knew what that meant. I love our children for who they are, not because they were baptized. They are grown adults, and as much as I wish I could go back and do it all over again, that simply is not His plan. 

My phone has been ringing off the hook, and production managers want to turn my book into a movie. I am not going down that road again. That book was a struggle to write I can't imagine Hollywood turning it into another nightmare.

I love you, and I need to get to bed. You won't believe this, but I'm having a yard sale ... yes you heard that right. I hate them, but you, my man left me with a lot of crap I never knew we had; you really knew how to hide things. I was hoping I would die first so you'd be the one to have to go through it all. It will be a new life for me, living alone in a home where I know no one. My fear is the kids will forget about me. 

I've invested in an e-commerce business, and I remember when I thought the training for American West Airlines was hard? This is out of my comfort zone. It's good that I am doing something now. Next month, I will be sixty-two and only have three more years to retire. I'm counting down the years. I want to be self-sufficient. I won't have a mortgage, thanks to you. Bake thinks our house will go for more than a million, and the new home is less than that. I should be okay with money. I call Ronnie Mabry about everything; he laughs and says, "Eric was always worried about you and told us endearing stories about you. He really loved you a lot. You are in a good position. Stop worrying." I can't imagine being retired, but I look forward to being my own boss.

I love you good-night my love!

Monya

The Shit Show 101

 Dear Eric,

Today, Kayla came to the house with the boys. They are getting big, but they are still so sweet and kind. Kayla asked if we could speak in private, so we went to our bedroom and sat on the bed. I knew something terrible would come out of her mouth but did not expect to hear what she said.

It took her some time to express herself, and her eyes filled with tears. I said, "What's wrong?" She began telling me about her marriage and how difficult it is to be married to Jeremy. She said he gets into these rages and lashes out by throwing things at her and screaming. She played me a recording she made during one of his rages. Eric, our little girl, was terrified. As I listened to her cry for help, I teared up. It was awful. I wish you were here to help, but I know you will guide me as her mother and her as our firstborn with your spirit. I had her turn it off because it was tough to listen to. I immediately went to her and hugged her, telling her I loved her. There were infidelities involved, and it made me sick to my stomach. She continued telling me about the domestic violence she has been receiving from Jeremy since they've been married. That means sixteen years of this, and why didn't I know? I'm her mother, shouldn't I know? Were there warning signs? 

She said Ezra told her he was scared, and that was all she needed to hear. She asked Jeremy to move out, and he did. I'm so proud of her strength, but you know, as well as I do, we do anything to keep our children safe. 

October 17th

I'm visiting with Teri Padovich and received a message from Jeremy asking if he could buy that big tent in the garage. I told him yes, not knowing what that thing was worth. Kayla met him at the house and gave him the tent.

Today, she told me they are going to separate for six months to see if he can get the mental help he needs. They will reevaluate after six months before making any permanent decisions. I told her I would support her in any decision she makes. I just want to be there for her with no judgment. I'm learning to lead compassionately, knowing we all make mistakes and that I love Jeremy. I don't like how he has treated her, but I still love him. I'm worried about him.

I'm still in probate because of Dana Harper. He has no case; we offered him his 1/4, which is $75,000, but he would not budge. Blake found an attorney. I really like him. He contacted Denny Dobbins and Nate Skinner to get more information. They both told him Dana has no proof of you, and he has decided to split the rent money, and he is asking for $250,000. I told the attorney our children had not paid a cent to live in that house. So now we are going to court, and Dana will have to pay my attorney's fees. No judge on the face of the earth will look at him and tell him I owe him that money. We offered him exactly what he would get at the full appraisal of $300,000. The attorney said, "What kind of friend comes begging for money from his dead friend's wife?"

I miss you so much and wish we could talk. I'm in tears all the time. I had no idea that I would be grieving and going through this at the same time. I love you, I miss you, and there are days when I have to get on my knees several times a day to ask for guidance. You are with me. I know where you are is beautiful, and you have work to do, but I want you back. I'm not ready to let go of you; I never will be. It's time for bed. I will write again, you know I will.

See You Soon

Monya

Taxes

 Frenchie, I started gathering all I needed to for our 2023 taxes. I'm sorry, but I never appreciated your hard work, not only for our family but also for filing our taxes. You were right, it SUCKS.

I'm not sure if I'm doing everything right, but the folks at Alt Key have been great about helping me. I am happy to say, tomorrow I will be turning all the tax information over to them.

I will be driving to Carlsbad again on Saturday with Josh and Dulce. We will meet Jori and Dwight at their condo, and then Dwight will drive Josh's car home. Believe it or not, he did not want to go to Disneyland with us. I know that was not your favorite place to go, and it is not the happiest place on earth. Jori wants to go to Sea World again. Eric, you, and I went there in January with them, and I do not want to go but have a hard time saying no to Jori. 

I went to Kara's today. Her daughter Graci is now helping with my hair extensions. The other lady was too out there for me. The last time I went in, she said, "So, you're single, right?" I answered NO. Then she said, "Didn't you recently lose your husband?" I said, "Well, I didn't lose him; he left to be in his next life." She looked at me like I was an idiot. Then said, "You know what I mean. You don't have a husband you are living with, so you are not having sex, right?" Then I told her it was really none of her business. She proceeded to ask if I was Mormon, I told her "Yes, but what does that have to do with anything?" She said, "Well, I have a client who came the other day; she is a divorced Mormon and thinks it's ok to masturbate; can you believe that?"

I had no idea what to say. I just looked at her like she was an alien, which I think she is. Then she said, "The Church is against masturbation. Didn't a bishop ever ask you how many times you did that a week when you were growing up?" I said, "No, I have never been asked that question ..." When I was trying to finish my sentence, she interrupted me and said, "Well, I did, and I was told never to do that and that it's unpure. This lady has been divorced for a while, and she said she masturbates... OMG, so against the church. No matter what your age or marital status. PERIOD." Then she proceeded to ask my take on using a vibrator; I told her I believed everything she was talking about had more to do with the person's personal relationship with God than it does with 'the church.' I have never been asked such questions before. I no longer wanted to participate in this discussion and tuned her out. 

Grace is getting married in December; I can't wait to attend her reception. It should be beautiful. When Kara started cutting my hair 30 years ago, Graci wasn't born. I remember how excited Kara was to be pregnant with a girl, and I told Graci that today. I wished someone could tell our daughters and Blake how I felt about being pregnant with each of them. I loved being pregnant. I never got sick and didn't gain too much weight. With Kayla and Blake, I lost weight, remember? You know that seems like yesterday?

I had lunch with Linda Bennett on Monday. Her oldest son, Kevin, named after his dad, lives less than a mile from us. Geez, I remember when he was born, also. How does time go so quickly?

I need to get to bed, Kaitlyn is coming over tomorrow, and I am excited to see her, so I need to get to bed.

I miss you and love you so much.

Monya