My April Lesson

Hey Babe,

Today I taught in Relief Society. The lesson was based on Dallin H. Oaks’ talk “Alive in Christ and the Resurrection.”

As I stood there teaching, I felt you with me. Not just a passing thought—but a real, quiet presence. It was emotional… in a way I didn’t expect.

I shared stories about my birth father, Colby—and about you.

I told them Colby was a good man. All I ever wanted was for him to be my dad. He was kind and gentle… but he carried demons he couldn’t overcome. The night he hit me in a drunken rage—that wasn’t who he truly was. Addiction changes people. It clouds memory, distorts truth. I don’t think we ever really knew what happened that night.

He said I was playing with the ironing board, that he asked me to stop and I didn’t. Then he struck me—his hand across the side of my three-year-old head.

I believe that moment haunted him for the rest of his life.

Mom divorced him, and over the years, we barely spoke. Maybe ten times, if that. But every time we did, he would say the same words: “I’m so sorry, honey.”

And every time, I would stop him and say, “I forgave you a long time ago.”

But now I see it differently.

When he sobered up, the weight of what he had done crushed him. And instead of healing, he ran back to the very thing that destroyed him. Over and over again.

Now, I find myself wishing I could say something different:
“I’m sorry too… for the anger I carried. I just wanted you to be my daddy. I wanted you to rescue me.”

I believe he’s in Heaven now. Whole. At peace. I wonder if you’ve seen him. I hope you have.
I look forward to the day I see you both again… along with your mom and dad.

The lesson also touched on something that stayed with me. As members of the Church, we sometimes feel misunderstood—but we’ve also had moments in our history where we didn’t fully accept others either. That has to change.

You and I never lived that way. We’ve loved people from all walks of life, all beliefs. And truthfully, many of them have been better at loving than I have.

That’s what I’m learning—really learning.
To love people where they are. Not where I wish they would be.

Because if we are judging, we are not loving. And if we are not loving, we are not living like Christ.
That’s the part I’m still working on every single day.

Haleigh still hasn’t reached out.

And I’ve come to a hard realization… I can’t keep doing this to my heart. It’s exhausting. I love her unconditionally—I always will. And I will always be here when she’s ready. But I think it’s time for me to write one final letter and let her know that.

I’ll pray. I’ll fast. I’ll make sure it comes from love—not pain.

As I prepared this lesson, a thought kept coming to me: she’s not there yet.
Not in the place of unconditional love.

And maybe that’s okay—for now.

Because I know who she is.
She is kind. She is gentle. She has always been that way.

She stood beside me during cancer. During her senior year—when people constantly asked her about me, about my illness. I know that hurt her more than she ever said out loud. And I will never forget it.

And I will never forget her final dance at Highland High… “Curing Cancer, Dancer by Dancer.”

I sat there, bald, watching our little girl cry as she danced to a song she chose just for me.
She doesn’t cry easily.

That moment… it held everything.

I have made mistakes. I see them more clearly now than ever before. But I am so grateful that every day, I can repent. Every day, I can forgive—and ask for forgiveness.

I am trying to become more like Christ. I fail often… but I’m changing. I can feel it—in my thoughts, in my actions, in the way I see people now.

And I want you to know something, too.

Thank you… for asking me for forgiveness—for a lifetime of hurt.
That mattered more than you may ever understand.

And I need you to hear me clearly:

I forgive you.

All of it.
Even the things that almost broke us.

We’ve carried things that could have destroyed our marriage… but they didn’t.
Because love—real love—chooses to stay, to heal, to forgive.

And I choose you. Still.

I love you.
Monya

The Wizard of Oz

 Dear Frenchie,

Besides our magical first trip to Paris together, Weslie and I just returned from the second most wonderful trip I’ve ever taken. You know how much I’ve always loved The Wizard of Oz—and Somewhere Over the Rainbow. I remember telling you I wanted that song sung at my funeral. You wrinkled your nose and dismissed the idea completely. Now that you’re gone, I suppose I get to make the decisions for my own funeral party.

This time, Weslie and I headed to Las Vegas for the weekend. We stayed at the MGM Grand, and the room was beautiful—comfortable, calm, and just right. On Saturday morning, we went to see The Wizard of Oz at the Sphere. I had no idea what I’d bought when I purchased the tickets, but imagine my surprise when we discovered we had VIP seats. We were escorted into a private lounge with unlimited food and drinks. You would have loved that part—and I would have loved seeing your face when you realized it was all included.

We were given a beautiful poster and $50 to spend at the merchandise shop. Of course, I handed the money straight to Weslie. She chose the softest Wizard of Oz sweatshirt, and I picked one too—There’s No Place Like Home. Something I know you would’ve happily bought for both of us.

Our seats were perfect—front and center, Section 206, with no one in front of us. I’ll admit, it was worth every dime. I know you wouldn’t have spent that kind of money… but if you’d seen what we saw, I think you might have changed your mind.

When the screen opened up, Weslie gasped. The screen wrapped completely around us, alive with movement and color. It was interactive, immersive, and breathtaking. There was never a moment when either of us looked away. Watching Weslie experience it for the first time reminded me of being a little girl, seeing the movie change from black and white to color on our bulky television with rabbit ears—too heavy for the stand it sat on. I remember wondering how color could possibly appear like that. It felt like magic.

When the tornado came. Frenchie, it felt like we were inside it. The wind blew through our hair, leaves flew all around us, and our seats actually moved.  And then Dorothy sang Somewhere Over the Rainbow, I cried—just a little. When the Wicked Witch threw fireballs at the scarcrow big bolts of fire shot towards us. When the monkeys appeared, they flew all around us. It was astonishing—truly the most wonderful show I’ve ever seen.

Weslie loved it so much that she asked me to play "Somewhere Over the Rainbow" over and over again. She wants to memorize it.

These are the moments you and I were supposed to share with our grandchildren. I promise you—I will continue to prioritize them. I want them to have good memories of me while I’m still here. That’s what life is really about: sharing joy, creating memories, and loving each other well.

Some days are harder than others. Haleigh still won’t speak to me. It’s been a year and a half since I last saw Ellis and Sena. My heart breaks over it. Blake says it’s her pride, but I still don’t understand what I’ve done to cause the distance. All I can do is pray that her heart softens. I don’t want to leave this world knowing she carries regrets—because you and I both know she would.

I miss you every day. Sometimes at night, I sit outside and imagine you looking down at me with that familiar grin. It brings me comfort.

I love you, babe.
Always have. Always will.
Until we meet again—
Good night.

Year Two: The Ache That Lingers

Frenchie

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

The world expects healing to follow a schedule, as if grief has a deadline. But the truth is, I still cry every night. I stare at the pillow with your face — that big, beautiful smile — and I miss it just as much now as I did the day you left. My heart still feels shattered. I still reach for you in the quiet moments, and each time I wake and realize you’re truly gone, the pain comes flooding back all over again.

I’m learning that grief isn’t linear. It isn’t something to check off a to-do list. It’s not something you “get over.” It has reshaped me—woven into the fabric of my everyday life. I’m learning to carry it, but some days I still fail.

Grief is complicated because it’s invisible. From the outside, I look delicate — maybe even strong. But no one sees the weight I carry: the lump in my throat, the restless knots in my stomach, the exhaustion that comes from pretending I’m okay. Grief is quiet and heavy, a burden most people never see.

You were my anchor. My peace. The one who helped me breathe when the world felt too heavy. Without you, I feel like half of me is missing.

Still, I move forward. I carry your absence with me like a shadow — sometimes light, sometimes suffocating. Some days, the grief feels like a soft whisper. On other days, it rages like a storm, leaving me breathless. But always, underneath it all, it’s love. Pure and enduring love.

I am learning to coexist with the sorrow. I don’t feel whole — not yet — but I am still here. I’ve changed. I’ve grown in ways I never expected since you left.

Haleigh still will not talk or text me. My heart aches for her, but I’m learning that I have to keep moving forward without her. I miss her so much, and I know this would have hurt you, too. I may never see her or our grandchildren again. So much has changed, and I no longer have the energy to keep trying to force what isn’t flowing. I’m not getting younger, and I want to build healthy, joyful relationships with the children who do reach out, who show up, who love me back.

Kayla tells me I wasn’t supposed to reach out to Haleigh — that there’s no contact rule— but I never got that memo. I send texts at random moments: I love you, I miss you. I don’t know how else to hold her in my heart.

Despite all of the brokenness, 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 — undeniably — deeply, quietly lonely.

I’ve decided to serve in the Mesa Temple. I’m on the waiting list for a calling — just one day a week, but as much as I can. And I’ve decided I want to serve a mission someday. In two years, when I retire, I hope I’ll be healthy enough to go. You know this was always my dream. I wanted to serve when I was twenty-one, but life had other plans — beautiful, messy, unexpected plans. Then you promised me we would serve a mission together. You promised me.

I don’t know what our mission will be, Eric. But I see it two ways:

1. I get to serve in this life — healthy, devoted, and doing good — carrying you with me in every prayer.

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

In either case… I win.

I love you so much. I want to do everything right while you’re gone so that when I cross that veil, I can run straight into your arms.

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 has 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 make sense of 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 it. 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 visits me in my 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 appreciate it. She reminded me to focus on the fight ahead. 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:
I told you that you didn’t need the reassurance like I did. You were raised in a very different environment from mine.

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 to be 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 can tune in to those feelings 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

How Long Does it Take to Move?

Oh Frenchie

I love you so much… but the memories we collected in this home with our beautiful children make it so difficult to leave. Every corner of these rooms holds a moment — laughter, tears, growth, love — and though this house will no longer be ours, those memories are etched deep in my heart and mind. We had such a good life together, and I thank you for every bit of it.

It took me two months to go through all the receipts and bank statements you saved — trying to find proof about Dana. Kayla helped me by taking bags home to sort through, and last night we finally finished. I’m so glad that chapter is closed. I used to get so upset with you for leaving receipts and unopened mail everywhere. I never understood why you did it — but I do now. So, a big thank you for that. We found a lot of what we needed. I’ll admit, there were moments I wanted to be mad at you… But now I see your intentions with a new understanding and even some gratitude.

I’m scared, nervous, and eager all at once — all swirling together in a way I can’t quite sort out. A new way of life is coming for me. And honestly? I don’t like it. When I walk into that new house, I feel nothing. I don’t care. None of it means anything if I can’t share it with you.

I remember our first home on Seneca as if it were yesterday. You were so worried about providing for Kayla and me — the pressure weighed heavily on you. I see us on that sofa together, you explaining how much you wanted to do right by us. I remember saying, “I could live in a shoebox with you and be happy. Money? It’s just not that important.” I thought I meant that more than I really did. But I see now how important it was to you — not for greed, but for security, for stability, for family.

I remember when we got engaged, and your mom talked about her children. When she spoke about you, she looked at me with those beautiful blue eyes and told me how happy she was that you chose me — that we would build a family together. But she warned me gently: “Don’t let Eric love money more than he loves his family.” I’ve always known you loved your family more than anything. That was never the issue. You cared deeply about providing, but I always knew what truly mattered most to you — us.

No one knew you like I did. Even though you were successful in real estate, you never let it change who you were. You were humble. You were kind. And now, missing you has shown me just how rare and beautiful that combination really was. You loved your work — you loved making money — but never more than you loved our family. That was your heart.

Soon I will be moving — and I’m not sure how to do that gracefully without you. Some days it feels impossible. But thank you for loving me even when I wasn’t sure I deserved it. We had a beautiful love story — one that I will cherish forever. Remarriage is not part of my plans. I know in my soul I could never find another like you — and I don’t want to try.

I hope you are enjoying your new, beautiful life. The thought of your reunion with your parents brings tears to my eyes — but also a sense of peace. I look forward to seeing them and hugging them someday, just as I look forward to seeing you again. Until that time, I move forward — one day at a time — hoping I make you proud.

I love you — always and forever.

Love,
Monya

Perspectives

 

Dear Frenchie,

I don’t understand why people assume that when someone dies, the surviving spouse is automatically “taken care of,” or that I should have money to spare. My Uncle Mike is now going to lose his house because the contractor they hired skipped town with their money. I don’t know why they paid him so much up front. He called me, crying, and asked to borrow some cash. Eric, you know how much I love him and Auntie Ann, but you taught me not to do business with family. We’ve been let down by too many people — including family.

You were always the one who handled those kinds of decisions. On top of that, I received a notice from the IRS saying I owe $78,000. I don’t know what to do. Alt Key will review it, but it’s due December 1st — and interest starts accruing daily until it’s paid. Dana won’t settle, and that stresses me out.

On a happier note, I finally finished my sixth year with Dr. Amen and am now legally a certified life coach. I know that would make you smile. I even thought about calling myself The Happiness Junkie. But I’m not going to publish it. You saw how the kids reacted to the first book — and even though I’m starting a new chapter of life without you, 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 haven’t decided whether to publish it. Producers from all kinds of agencies have called, wanting to turn I CAN-CER VIVE into a movie. One company even offered to fund the entire production and wanted me on set to ensure it was done tastefully. But if the kids didn’t like me writing a book, they would definitely be against a movie.

The Netflix contract I signed is now null and void — and honestly, that was a blessing in disguise. I still got paid for it. Part of me wants to publish Pebbles in My Pockets because it truly is the story of my life… but telling the kids might trigger something in me and probably in them, too. So for now, I’m keeping it private.

I’ve been studying perspectives, and, wow —do I have different ones now. People act for a reason, and that reason is rooted in our brains. What I’m experiencing — grieving your loss — is very different from the kids losing a father. They do not know our whole story, and I want to keep it that way. They love you from a child’s point of view; they want me to think they knew all our secrets, or even that they knew you better than I did. You and I both know that’s simply not true.

You and I knew everything about each other. We spent over 40 years figuring out life and how to connect with each other. It all comes down to perspective, and mine are mostly good memories. I’ve tried to erase the bad, but I know those struggles taught us how to survive the circumstances we created when we were younger.

I once blamed you for awful things you did to me — but now, after our last night together, your tears when you said, "You are the love of my life, and I am sorry for things I've done to hurt you." That is all I ever wanted to hear from you, acknowledgment. I instantly forgave you for it all.

I also understand that I didn’t come from the same family as you. We entered a relationship with very different perspectives on life, raising kids, your dad, Betty, my mom, and my stepdad. With all that going on, we truly should have taken more time to be present in our marriage. 

I now know that everyone is dealing with something, and even if we don’t share someone’s perspective, that doesn’t diminish their truth. I’ve learned respect and compassion — and that is where I am now.

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

I’m so grateful we were sealed together for eternity. I look forward to holding your hand again.

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 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 for now.

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 take 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 once in my life, 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 the fun memories they shared 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 go-to for running errands and picking 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 turkeys 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 be  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 my loneliness.

I'm packing up the house and don't want to get up in the attic—ugh—but you know I will get up on that ladder and start throwing things out. If there is anything 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 need some strength right now. I'm going to ask Brother Arnold to give me a blessing. I pray every night and listen for answers, but nothing comes, so I am overthinking this whole 'moving' thing. 

It's time for bed. Tomorrow, I will begin putting up Christmas, and I will think of you the entire time, knowing this is your favorite time of year. 

Love,

Monya

Vito Dies

 Frenchie, maybe you know I'm not sure, but Vito passed away on Sept 16, 2024. I will be going to his funeral tomorrow.

I'm so glad I could visit him and JoAnne a month ago. I was looking forward to living down the street from them. I haven't spoken to JoAnne, but I think she was getting prepared for him leaving. He fell on his electric scooter a month ago, which is why I went to visit them.

JoAnne told Terry, JoAnne said, "How could we lose Eric and Vito in the same year?" I am so sad for her. I think I am more sensitive about death now. I understand how she feels. I miss you so much, sometimes I still can't believe you are gone. 

I just finished reading the Book of Mormon. I don't know who could read it and not feel its truthfulness. My testimony and faith have been tested this year, but I know that when I pray, I always feel close to Heavenly Father. 

I'm so glad I have the gospel in my life. I have never needed it more than I do now. I am worried about moving into the new house and going to a new ward. Eric, we have been in this ward for over 30 years. I always thought we would never move because we loved our ward so much, but when it was split, everything changed. It's just not the same. The people in the 6th ward that we know and love have told me they feel the same about their new ward. I have been truly blessed by the prayers of many people in these wards. I will always be grateful for our connections here, but moving is the right thing to do, even if I am as scared as I am. 

See You Soon

Monya

Sonya & Kris

Frenchie, Uncle Mike, and I had a great time in Mexico. He got a little sick, not the throwing up sick, but his muscles were hurting him, and he was fatigued. He loved Mexico and said over and over again, "I can see why Eric loves it here; it's beautiful."

I love spending time with him and have learned more about my Belshe family than I ever wanted to know. I found out the Belshe family is filled with family members who have had cancer, strokes, and autoimmune diseases. I guess that answered a lot of my questions about my health. I have had all of those things happen to me, cancer, mini-stroke, and horrible autoimmune diseases. Uncle Mike also told me that there are many Belshes who suffer from mental illness. Some won't admit it because they don't want to sound weak. Now, this one I don't understand, and not because I don't have mental issues but because the Belshe family wants everyone to think they are superior to the rest of us and mental illness would never be "their" problem.

Oh well, it's a learning curb for me hearing all of this stuff. I had to pull it out of Uncle Mike. He doesn't talk about people and doesn't want me to think anything different about his siblings. No doubt Sonya and Kris have mental issues. I guess I have to give them a break since mental illness is passed down from generation. 

Eric, I still cannot forgive my sisters for not contacting me after you passed away. I can't get over how many times you pulled them out of financial situations without asking for anything back from them, and they can't send a text saying, "Sorry to hear about Eric." I have let so much of their crap bother me over the years, but I am done, for sure, with both of them. They remind me of my mother; if they act like it didn't happen, then they don't have to do something about it. Sonya and Greg were more worried about their reputation or Justen's repetition as a surgeon than they were about how Haleigh was doing or the facts. The fact is Justen told you and I in Bishop Greer's office that he sexually molested Haleigh. The details he told us made me sick. How could Kris and Sonya think what he did was ok? They don't, but admitting what he did shows weakness on their side, and how could they ever admit weakness? It leads me to wonder if they were ever molested by Gary. Sonya said he touched her boobs one time, and Kris has never discussed it, only to say she was molested too. I protected Kris by making sure I was the one who slept in Gary's bed so Kris wouldn't have to. I understand now why they were adamant about knowing what happened to me. 

I'm happy I didn't share that with them. You are the ONLY person I have ever admitted to what happened to me. I'm not sure why I told you about that when we were in Hawaii, mostly because I knew you wanted to know everything. I kept some of that secret for so long because I didn't want you to be disappointed in me. Thank you for letting me share those intimate, disgusting details with you and not judging me. I love that I could finally share all of that with you after all these years. You held me, said you were sorry this happened to me, and wished you could have protected me. I love you even more for understanding and sympathizing with the situation I was forced into. I don't regret not telling you. My therapist thought it would be best that I didn't because it was not going to help you forgive my parents. It would only push you to the edge of wanting to kill Gary. 

I love you and miss you so much. I wish grieving wives could have one time when the veil is lifted, and we could see what our husbands are doing all day. I remember telling you about the experience I had with your mom and dad when I was resuscitated during surgery. I don't think you believed me, but now you know. Heaven is beautiful, and everything we have been taught about our life after death is true. Knowing you are doing good things with your mom, I have made peace with you leaving me. I can see now how Heavenly Father was preparing me for your death. I have had many dreams where I am with your mom, and you asked me one time after I had a dream, "Why don't I ever dream?" I now know exactly where you are, but not sure what you are doing. Now, you are living in the world I want to live in. No judgment, no comparisons, and a lot of love and serenity. Enjoy my love.

I am looking forward to the CHOSEN starting in September. For some reason, watching the new season will bond me even closer to you. XOXO

Uncle Mike

Frenchie, Uncle Mike came and visited me. I picked him up at the airport, and he looks really good. I wish he wasn't so hard on himself. He thinks he is going to Hell ... literally. When I asked him why he would say that to me, he said there was a bishop who came to their house and told them they were going to Hell because Aunt Ann was not baptized and that they did not get married in the Temple. I was so sad to hear him tell me that story. This is one of the reasons so many people talk bad about the LDS religion. Why in the hell would anyone say that to someone? I'm pretty sure you know more than I do now, but I do not believe the Heavenly Father I know would be ok with anyone telling him that, especially a bishop.

I love Uncle Mike and Aunt Ann. I'm so glad I've made a connection with them. I had no idea Uncle Mike was ten years younger than my dad. He told me he was as bad as Colby. I told him I didn't believe that and knew he never went to jail. He has this terrible self-image.  Because he married Jane young, they had two girls, and Jane talked horribly about Mike; those girls don't speak to him. It is unfortunate. He has a lot of shame because of it but makes no excuses; he lives with the agony of having daughters in Arizona who do not want anything to do with him, but he is not like Colby except for the kind heart that they both have. Those boys were so misunderstood. I wish things could have been different with my dad. I wanted to have him in my life, but I needed to understand where he was as a teenager. I have abandonment issues because of Colby. Well, not only him; my mom walked away from me when I needed her most. 

Uncle Mike and I are driving to Mexico tomorrow; he has an appointment with a dentist. Remember him telling us about his teeth going bad after he started taking heart medication? He's getting old, Eric. I will miss him so much when he passes on to your world. He asked me if I would put his Temple clothes on him when he dies. I told him I would be honored to do that for him. Then he told me he wanted to be cremated; I'm not sure if the "Church" would approve, but you know me ... I don't care, and I am not going to ask if he can be burned with his temple clothing on. This was a very uncomfortable conversation, and I hoped and prayed he would not ask me if it was okay with the church; he didn't. 

He was sleeping on the sofa; he didn't want to go upstairs and share a bathroom with me. I hope he thinks the couch is as comfortable as I told him. 

I love you so much. I'm not sure how I got so blessed to be married to you. Thank you for understanding my crazy, messed-up life. You didn't know what you were getting into when we married, but I could not and would not want to do it with anyone else. I have to go to bed. I'm going to your happy place tomorrow.

Be Still My Soul

Dear Frenchie;

This has been a difficult week without you. We typically plan a summer trip to Paris, but who knows where we'd would go? IIt was always an adventure with you by my side. 'm not sure I can ever go back to Porte Jaune without you, my life is completely turned around right now and I continue to be triggered by the trauma of losing you.

Kayla has been coming over and helping me with going through your boxes upon boxes of 'stuff' that's all it is to me is just stuff without you nothing seems important to me, materially it is not the same without you. Blake's family is in California, making memories as a family. Haleigh and Scott have been gone all summer, I'm not sure when they will come home yet. I have been able to facetime with little Sena and Ellis. I can't begin to explain how important that was and I truly love her for thinking of me. Kaitlyn & Brian have been in Utah for a month or so. I sure miss them too, I tried to facetime with them but Kaitlyn never responded. She is working hard on her new job. I'm grateful she can be on vacation and work remotely. I think they came home yesterday.

When I was praying the other night I asked Heavenly Father help me make a decision about moving from this BIG house to a smaller one. Blake has been looking for me, he showed me house  he is remodeling by Lindsay and Elliott over by the Groves, you know I love the Groves. I went to look at it and it's the right size but the yard has a pool, and is bigger than I want. Luckily I have plenty of time to make those decisions. The next day after that prayer the Blandfords contacted me to say they would help me by allowing me to buy a spec home at cost. This is cheaper for a brand new house than the one Blake was showing me that was built in the 1980's.

I went to Reserve at Red Rock and found a lot I really liked. It was peaceful and quiet. Of course I am scared to death of the rattle snakes. Is this where you want me to be? Everyone in that neighborhood loves you, and I can't believe how many homes you sold.

Terry helped me walk through a couple of specs, I could feel your spirit there. You are so loved by so many of your clients ...? Is that what you call them? I spent some time with Sara and Isaiah and Saint. He is so cute and almost two next month. Sara is wanting to potty train Saint. Remember me doing that will all of our children? It seems like yesterday. Now they are potty training their own children. 

I'm waiting for the children to return from vacations so I can get their opinion. I will be sad to leave this home we have created for our family, but the upkeep and maintenance is going to kill me. I know you have always wanted to live out there in the dessert surrounded by cacti and rattle snakes. That part scares me, the walking trail is just behind lot 150 the spec I'm looking at. I thought it would be too far away from the children, but I rarely see or talk with them. Remember when Dad and Betty would get upset with us if we didn't talk constantly? I just know I should have never judged them because now as a grandmother of ten, I want to hear from them I want them to help me clear out this house but I'm afraid of getting rid of anything of yours.

Today in church I studied during the sacrament about covenants. I'm trying to keep the covenants I made with my Heavenly Father and you when we married for eternity. I will always love you with all my heart and cannot wait to see what eternity together is. I think of you 24/7 and think "What would Eric do.?" I cry daily remembering so much of our memories together, and the future memories we wanted to make with our children and grandchildren

I also looked at couples headstones together, you know I will be on top of you physically but with you in spirit when I die and I cannot wait for that day. In my bad humor I thought, "Well dad will be happy I'm on top." ha ha. But for now I will wait my time when the Lord wants me to come home, I just wish it was me first. I think the children would have liked more time with you. I love you so much, Kayla asked me about our story from beginning to end. I think I will type it up for her; I;m not sure the other kids will want to hear about you in a different light.I believe Kayla especially deserves to know the truth of what happened during that time. I wish I didn't have to do this but I know it is something she is really curious about. No matter what, I will let her know I have forgiven you and that you apologized the night at dinner in front of the Udall's the night before you died. 

I understand the shame you felt, I know you wanted to make your parents proud of you. I wish you never felt that, it was a different time in the church when we were raised and you had lovely parents who wanted to protect you. I will talk to you soon, I'm struggling right now with why Heavenly Father would take you from me at such a young age. I'm sure I'll never get that answer; I just want you back, physically with me.

See you Soon

I love you Monya

Uncle Mike & Auntie Ann

 Dear Frenchie

I love waking up in Montana. The weather is incredible, maybe a little cold for you. In the afternoon, it gets up to 78 degrees. Either way, I know you would love to be here. Today, we are going on a drive to Big Hole Lake.

Uncle Mike and Aunt Ann are so sweet and kind to me. Of course, Uncle Mike still cusses like a trucker, but it's him. I would be disappointed if he acted any different than who he is. Remember last year when we were here, we stayed in that cute VRBO? This year, I stayed at the house they rented until their home is finished from the fire. They only have five months without snow, so they hope the contractors finish before October.

They have many stories about life growing up as a Belshe. Uncle Mike was one of the younger of the nine children; my dad Colby was the oldest boy, and Nana was the oldest. Listening to their stories, I can see why some of my behavior patterns were genetically passed down. By the time Uncle Mike was a teenager, Grandpa Belshe had his stroke, so he and Pamela and Uncle Bill got away with a lot of crap. Uncle Mike thinks Grandma just got tired of raising kids. It's really sad to hear some of his stories.

 Yesterday was beautiful. The sun was out, and I didn't need a jacket. I brought some of the long sleeves you bought me in California with Dwight and Jori, which were perfect. Oh, and you will love this. Uncle Mike has worn the Puerto Penasco hat you bought; he says he wears it daily. It's his favorite. We drove to Butte, where Uncle Mike had a lung scan. We dropped him off and then went to visit Aunt Ann's brother, Hal. As I sat and watched Aunt Ann care for her brother compassionately, she offered to go to the store for him. I thought why in the world would any person not like her. Why? Because she is not LDS? Because she smokes? The Belshe family, including Grandma (who had a mean streak), just don't like her. She is one of the nicest people in this family I have met. When Coldby died, I went to his house to get something of his, anything he had handmade. When Lynn opened the door, she greeted me with this, "Oh, I know who you are, you're the Bitch of the family, your dad told me." I stood shocked, not knowing what to say. I had no idea Uncle Mike and Aunt Ann were standing just behind me ... not a good idea to call Uncle Mike's favorite niece a Bitch. He and Ann were so mad. Uncle Mike said, "Don't you talk to her like that, and my brother never said she was a Bitch; he loved her." then they pushed through the door, took her to another room, and told me to get whatever I wanted. While I was trying to find artwork or some of his leather work, I could hear Lynn getting her share of the mean streak Mike and Ann had for her. Colby was never married to her. In fact, she was still married to another man but just living with Colby. I grabbed a few things for my children to have. Even though they never really knew him as a grandfather, I still wanted some of his things. I'm glad I did because as I get older, I believe my dad loved me but didn't know how to show it; he didn't know how to be a dad, let alone a grandfather. He spent most of my childhood running from the law or in Prison. My heart hurts for him; he made it hard to love him. I was not allowed to know where he was in my youth and teen years. 

I'm not sure why the Belshe family is so judgmental of people. None of them live perfect lives. But I see now where Kris and Sonya got it from. Living and loving you was my best decision; I know my dad would have loved the man I married. I'd give anything for my dad to be alive and see how you and I have made a beautiful family together for forty-six years. We weren't perfect, but holy cow, we did not raise our children to Hate anyone. I have the greatest heritage, and this family is not what a family should be. If it wasn't for Uncle Mike visiting me as a child and texting me every day just to say, "I'm alive." He even came to your funeral ... I love him and know I don't have many years left with him; he's 77, and his heart is like yours. Since I don't know how it works where you are, I always wonder if you've been able to talk to Colby. If you do, please tell him all the talks you and I have had about him. I wished I'd had someone to call daddy, and it wasn't Gary. Tell him I love him and hug him for me. He really was a good man who made some bad decisions.

Uncle Mike and Aunt Ann took me on a spectacular ride today. Oh, Eric, you would have loved it. The forest was a beautiful green. They've cleaned up some of the dying trees from the beetles and huge piles of timber. It's so sad. I hate when the forest catches fire, or these beetles eat down these 100-year-old trees. By the time they grow back to this size again, it will be in another 100 years. I love being with Uncle Mike and Auntie Ann.

Love Monya

Montana

 Dear Frenchie

I decided to go to Montana, even though you and I had planned that trip together. It was a hard decision to make. We are trying to update the condos, hoping to attract a different clientele and raise the money for rent. I felt like I needed to be there this week to get them ready. However, Brian told me not to cancel my Montana plans and to see Uncle Mike.

We had a birthday party for Zeek. He is four now and just so sweet. I know he loves me and still gets excited to see me and show me his latest toy. It was also a celebration for Teddy, whose birthday was a few days ago. Teddy is getting tall, and he, too, is so sweet. I don't get to see Kayla's children as much as Zeek and Weslie; Kayla is in the thick of raising teenagers and home-schooling. I miss them a lot.

After everyone left, I packed for Montana (carry-on only). I didn't get to bed until midnight and could not sleep, worried about the alarm going off. I had to be up and gone by 3:30. It's not the same without you. Packing and getting ready to do anything is still really hard for me. I brought your pillow to Montana so I could sleep better.

Seeing Aunt Ann waiting for me, I just melted into her arms, and we both had a nice cry. Uncle Mike was sitting by the baggage area checking out Facebook ... that man is like you. He loves to scroll through, see what everyone is doing, and then leave a comment.

I flew into Missoula again, and we made the two-hour drive to Anaconda. I missed you when the scenery was so beautiful. I could hear you telling Uncle Mike how much you were amazed at the beauty in Montana. It was gorgeous and cold; I'm glad I brought a jacket. I'm only here until Saturday, so I don't have as much time with them as I wanted, but I could not get off work. 

Uncle Mike was upset about you not being there; he started to cry, saying, "I was really looking forward to getting to know Eric better; he is a good man. My brother would be proud." He said it was unfair that you went before him and were too young. I agree.

Waking up to snow-capped mountains is so incredible. It's June and in the sixties, cold for an Arizona girl. But I'm going to enjoy every second with them. They love me, and I want to be around them because, for once, I feel loved by a 'Belshe,' and you know what that means to me. I don't think anyone else would understand that, but you. I finally am loved by my dad's brother and his wife. Most of the Belshe's have a way of shutting me out because I wasn't around them growing up. It's sad but true; they all gossip and talk about each other. I just can't be around that anymore. Here in Montana, with family, it feels so good; as you know, it is something I have craved my entire life. Aunt Ann said, " Uncle Mike and I love you so much, and I ache knowing what you are feeling. We will be your mom and dad. If you need anything or want to talk, we are here for you." I love them. They don't judge, they forgive easily, and we have much fun together.

I've got to get up and get ready for the day. I'm sure they wonder what I am doing in this bedroom. I just wanted to connect with you this morning. I know you are proud of me for coming to visit them without you. I see you everywhere, though. Thank you for showing up in Montana for me. I love you and miss you so much.

Love Monya

One of those Days

Dear Frenchie

I had to return Amazon stuff to the UPS store on Higley today. I think I have returned everything I ordered from Amazon since you passed away. I've lost so much weight when I went to see Dr. Howard; she told me I weighed 110 pounds. No wonder nothing fits me. I'm the same size I was when I met you. Cooking for two was hard, and now cooking for one is next to impossible; luckily, I don't get hungry. Dr. Howard said the least amount of weight I should have is 126 pounds. I don't know what else to do; I eat 42 grams of protein daily and a bowl of ice cream every night. Remember when I told you how thin I was in High School? At graduation, I only weighed 96 pounds. I can't get that low; I'm trying so hard to gain weight  I think I should set the alarm to remind me to eat like my mom did when I was a teenager.

Today, I was full of emotions. I was sad and regretful, which is something I try not to be. I'll talk to you about that in another letter. The strongest emotion I felt today was being mad. I drove up to UPS for the returns and sat in my car to watch this man. He must have weighed 500 pounds and could hardly walk; his son took everything in for him. I stared at this man for at least five minutes, wondering why? Why is he allowed to live? I know I shouldn't judge him, but it is so unhealthy for him I wanted to go shake him into the real world. I wanted to tell him it's a matter of time before he dies of a heart attack.

I started to ugly cry in my Jeep, watching him, and his son was not far behind him in weight. I miss you. It's not fair; you worked so hard to lose weight, and you drank that green drink every morning, the pomegranate juice, those immune drinks, and don't forget the beets, all of course from COSTCO:) You walked 10,000 steps, and for once in your life, you were truly happy. We fell in love all over again ... we had plans ... I don't understand why God would want you to leave me? ... To leave your grandchildren? ...This f'ing sucks. I'm not sure I am strong enough to do this. You've always been my lighthouse, the one who led me home. I don't have you anymore, and my heart is broken. I'm sorry; it has just been one of those days where everything I see around me has been a trigger. I love you, sweetheart, goodnight. I'll be back tomorrow and hopefully in a better mood.

Packing for Hawaii

 Frenchie and I are going to Maui with Jori and Dwight tomorrow. We are so excited. It has been a long time since we last went on a trip like this. I have to make this short because I need to sleep.

As we were busily packing tonight, Frenchie said, "Why are we rushing? Get over here and dance with me. He put on a song we both love called IF by Bread. I thought it was so sweet of him to do that. I love him so much; his heart attack has helped us remember we only have this moment right now to love and share what time we have left together.

Eric wants me to retire by next January. He said we would retire together. It shocked me. I never thought he would stop working, but I think he wants to spend as much time together as we can. He always tells me every day how much he loves me and how grateful he is to have me as his best friend. I believe I have the best husband and best friend I could ask for.

Okay, I'm off to bed, ready to see what adventures Frenchie and I will discover in Maui. More memories to make-I just love him so much.

I can do hard things

 I've had to make some tough decisions about my mental health and how Kayla and Kaitlyn have affected me this past year.

    I miss them but have decided for my own mental health. It's been a year since I had to hear Kayla call me disgusting and a text from Kaitly saying I'm awful. I have sincerely apologized, taken responsibility, and put myself through shame as a mother and seen a therapist. I realize they have boundaries, So I have to consider them acquaintances. They were in my first circle and are now considered in my third circle. I must let them have their boundaries and realize I do not have any control over other people's thoughts and feelings; their perceptions are different than mine, but I respect their perspectives because I finally figured out two things during therapy with Eric.

Kayla

1. I was a mess when I was pregnant with Kayla. Eric was so embarrassed he didn't want to see me. I cried every day for nine months, the shame I had to feel going to work pregnant, and everyone knew I was not married and that Eric and I were not seeing each other. Eric didn't help with the money; I took what little money I had across the street to Pic n Save to get cans of vegetables just to keep up with my nutrition. Eric asked his office if I would call to tell me he was not there (Before Cellphones). Being alone for nine months of pregnancy, living alone was very depressing. I had a lot of anxiety, shame, and disappointment in myself for giving in to Eric. I worried about how I would care for myself and the baby. It was so scary. I tried to save money but barely made enough to pay for my apartment. I never talked to my mom and dad until I was eight months pregnant. I was at their home, and my mom asked me how Ray felt about this. I had to tell her, "I don't know, I'm sure he doesn't know." She picked up the phone and called Eric's dad to tell him he would be a grandfather in a month. He was quiet but definitely did not know about the pregnancy. Eric only told me, "You cannot have the baby on August 17th because I am getting an award for real estate, and I have to be there." On the day of my ultrasound, he said he would be there but never showed up.

On the morning of August 17th, I called my mom at 3 am, and she stayed on the phone with me to count the minutes between contractions. When they got to 5 minutes apart, she told me to call Eric and have him come and pick me up. I called him, and surprisingly, he answered. He said he couldn't get me; I told him I would drive to his condo, across the street from the hospital where I would be delivering. The drive was, to say the least, HARD, having contractions and trying to drive in rush hour traffic. When I arrived, I lay on his sofa. He was upset that I was having a baby on the day he was honored. He was cold and nervous about what he would say in his speech, so I tried to ignore what he said and did. I labored for about 6 hours alone; I would call the hospital, and they would tell me to wait just a little bit longer. The pain was so bad. Having my first baby, I really didn't know what to expect. My mom never called again, and I couldn't get to the phone on the wall in the kitchen. I didn't think she had Eric's phone number. I wanted her with me. I just wanted my mom to reassure me I would be okay and that I hadn't been forgotten. I prayed a lot but felt unworthy of it or His love since I had committed the worst sin other than murder. The pain still came, but I needed to be brave. I needed to be strong for my baby. During those hours alone in labor, I will never forget how lonely I was. I knew the pain wasn't going away, so I cried a lot, knowing no one would see my weakness.

When Eric arrived home after his award ceremony, he changed his clothes and showed me his award. I couldn't care less; my contractions were 2 minutes apart, and he had no idea how to comfort me. I don't think he wanted to comfort me. The physical pain, on top of his self-pride, was more than I could process at the time. I told him he needed to take me to the hospital. He didn't help me to the car. At the hospital, he was in the delivery room. The nurses told him how to help me and how to breathe with me while in contractions, and he did well. When the doctor told me I had a new baby daughter, I was overwhelmed with unconditional love when they placed her on my chest. I remember kissing her and saying, "I love you," and promising I would always be there for her. It was a relief to have her here physically okay, with ten fingers and ten toes, but I was unsure how I would make it through this. The nurses brought her to me to nurse, but I wasn't ready. I told them I needed time. I gave Kayla my last name because I had no idea what was next and did not want any problems with him trying to take her someday.

What was interesting was when my mom and dad came, and eventually, Eric's dad and Betty Eric went into this weird, almost politician-like mood. He pretended he had been with me through not only the last 9 months but the labor I was in at his condo. It was as if he knew every detail of the past months, but he knew nothing. 

When I went home with my new little bundle of joy, I was alone but not lonely; now, I could hold and play with my baby. I nursed her until it was time to go back to work. I cried when I dropped her off at Sonya's house but was grateful to her for helping me. I have yet to hear from Eric. Kayla had colic, and I thought it would never end. I had to take her in my car so the neighbors wouldn't complain. I'd be up all night, then go home and prepare for work. I was exhausted. One night, I drove her to Eric's home (he moved to Chandler). I think it was two or three in the morning, and when he answered the door, I placed my crying baby in his arms and told him it was his turn and I needed sleep. He had no idea what to do but said, "I can't do this. I have to go to work." I slept as much as I could and had no idea how he kept her quiet, but she was asleep next to him on his waterbed in the morning. I couldn't help but wonder what it would be like for us to be married and do this parenting together.

When Kayla was two months old, I was in a car accident. They had to take Kayla out of the car with the jaws of life. Kayla was screaming, and my heart ached for her. When the firefighters finally got her out, she was all smiles. My car was totaled. I don't remember how we got home. When I called Eric, I couldn't contact him, so I called his office. The secretary told me he was on a trip to Spain and would not be home for another week.

This is when I knew I had to let go of Eric and move forward with Kayla. I wrestled with the idea of her not having a father figure in her life. It would never be Gary, and I had yet to hear from Ray. Someone I knew years ago called me (I'm sure he got my phone from my mom.) He wanted to visit me; I told him it was not a good idea because I had a baby and was unmarried. He said, "I know, but I still want to visit you." I agreed, and Dave came to my apartment. I hadn't seen him for so long, so I asked what he was doing now. He said, "I'm an anesthesiologist." I laughed and said, "I guess you bought that Porsche with that money?" He said he'd been practicing in Phoenix for several years now; I remembered then that he was quite a bit older than I was. He visited Kayla and me as much as he could. As weeks went on, I have yet to hear from Eric. One night, he called when Dave was there. He wanted to come over, and I told him no, I was visiting with a friend. It killed me to say that to him; I loved him still and wanted us to be a family. Eric drove over anyway; when he knocked on the door, I stepped outside and told him, "I asked you not to come over." He said, "Who is in there with you?" I told him it was a friend, and he said, "A friend that drives a Porsche?" "I don't have to tell you that." He was angry when I wouldn't let him in the apartment. Dave came out and said, "I can see this is not a good time, Monya; I put Kayla to bed. I will talk to you tomorrow." That did not go well with Eric, but I stood my ground and said goodbye.

Dave started discussing marriage and adopting Kayla; he wanted to take us to the Temple. I didn't love him and thought he was moving too fast. Kayla was only four months old. I never loved anyone like I loved Eric, but then I started to doubt myself and wondered if I loved his parents more than him. I called Eric and told him that Kayla had my last name and that Dave was discussing marriage. Eric was livid; he told me he would take her to Europe with him, and I'd never see her or him again if I did that. I wanted to laugh because he would not know how to take care of her, and maybe he needed some time alone with her to see how hard it was to be alone and raise a baby...he had no idea. Besides, how would he obtain a passport for Kayla? I hung up, saying, "Eric, I've given you six years of my life, and not once have you been serious about marriage. I'm still in love with you, but I can't do this with you anymore. I have a baby to think of, and it would be good to realize you have a daughter and stop hiding it from everyone."

One night, he came over to my apartment and wanted to talk. I allowed him to come in; he held Kayla until she cried, then quickly handed her back to me. After I nursed and put Kayla to bed, Eric was still there. He tried to kiss me, and I turned away; I told him no, but he pushed himself on me. I remember pushing him away and saying, "No, I will not do that anymore with you." He didn't listen through my tears. I was so glad to see him leave and get a restraining order on him. The next month, when my cycle didn't come, I went to Pic and Save and bought a pregnancy test. I sat on my bathroom floor and cried; I couldn't believe I was pregnant. I was devastated.

How could I let this happen? Should I even tell Eric? What about Dave? I am a terrible person; I'm a sinner, and God will never forgive what I have done. I called Eric, angrier than scared to tell him. He didn't believe me until I reminded him of that night. After a month passed and he hadn't called, I knew I would be doing this again with two children. Kayla would cry when she saw me cry, so I tried to cry after she was dropped off and I was on my way to work. There was no way I could love another child like I did Kayla; I took her everywhere with me. Abortion was out of the question; I didn't believe in that.

Eric came to the apartment one night, and I saw he was distraught. I let him in, and he told me he would pick me up in the morning, and we would marry. I laughed at him and said, "Why should I believe you'll show up this time." So many times, he had said that to me, and I would wait and not hear from him for days. He said, "I need to tell you something first." Without going into all the details, he told me he had been intimate with two other girls. When he told me one of them was when I was in the accident with Kayla and that he had won a trip for two to Spain, he took her with him. I stood up and said, "Get out of here. I never want to see you again." he said, "But we were on a break." This made me madder; I said, "We were on a BREAK?? Did you forget to tell these girls you had a child? Just get out of my apartment. I can't hear any more of this." Before he left, he said, "Monya, I could never marry you without telling you about the other girls." I went to bed and cried myself to sleep.

The following day, I was getting ready for work and trying to get Kayla ready when a knock was on my door. It was Eric in a suit and tie. I said, "What are you doing here? I'm going to be late for work." He said, "I came to get you. We are getting married today." "Yeah, right; really, what do you want?" He cried and said, "I am marrying you today."

We went to the courthouse in Phoenix and stood before a judge, where we were married. It was surreal to have waited six years and finally be married. Our first year of marriage was really hard. Every time Eric was late getting home from work, I wondered if he was cheating on me. I also felt like maybe he didn't really love me, and that was why it took him so long.

I Make Mistakes Over & Over Again

 

I’ve been so down lately; I have made many mistakes as a mother that I wish I could rewind. I have considered myself a good mother; I love my four children and my beautiful ten grandchildren. Since Eric’s heart attack, I have not spoken to two of my daughters. My heart is broken over it. 

The Lord sees my mistakes; he knows my failures and my successes. Sometimes, I daydream about being perfect in every way, but then I think about the Atonement of Jesus Christ. The sacrifice that was made by Him for me helps me to understand. Every one of us makes mistakes. Sometimes, they are small, and sometimes there are big ones. They could be accidental, unintentional, and even careless. We even repeat mistakes. I have made mistakes that are hard to get over and move past. I struggle in prayer, asking for forgiveness daily, and nothing changes. I texted my daughter, telling her I was sorry and asking her to forgive me. I sometimes miss her so much that my heart hurts. I fear I’ve lost both of my daughters this time.

Unfortunately, there is no way around making mistakes, so we came to earth and got a body. Our environment, upbringing, the people we associate with, and choices can be debilitating. Although there really is no way around any of us making mistakes, there is a way through it. Our Savior!!

He knows how to lift me when I fail and forgive me when I fall. The Savior is the only way to make me stronger and a better person. Heavenly Father can restore my faith and hope and bring me peace.

He asks us to ‘Come unto Him,’ and he will give us rest. When I was a little girl, I heard this scripture and wondered, “What does that mean?” Now, as an adult, I understand. Just because we make mistakes does not mean all is well in our little worlds. When we hurt people, it is up to them to forgive; they may never forgive, and we must be okay with that. I want to rest; I want a second chance. I know the Lord forgives me repeatedly for the mistakes I make; now, it is up to me to forgive myself.

Forgiving myself for mistakes and things I have said or done to hurt my children is one of the hardest things ever. Never in my life did I ever imagine I could hurt one of my children so badly that they would never want to talk to me again. It is more than I can handle. Because I believe in Christ and my life’s purpose, I can only continue to pray and ask Him to forgive me. I doubt this will be the last time I have to ask forgiveness. All I can do now is wait and continue to pray their hearts will be softened to their mother and forgive me. 

I hope they don’t have to carry this burden when I die. But that is part of the plan; they will have to forgive themselves one day, too. I heard a song today that reminded me of the promises made.

•  It’s not about being perfect.
• That’s not what makes us strong or brave.
• It’s about getting back up.
• Forgiving ourselves and other people and then moving on.

The only way to forgive myself is to realize I was never a perfect mother or wife. But I did the best I could with what I was taught, and I don't care who you are, there is not a perfect mom or dad anywhere.

I get these thoughts and feelings about what my children think of me, and then I remember what David Byrd taught me: thoughts and feelings are not facts.

I wish all moms and dads could understand we do our best, and the rest is up to the Lord; he will figure it all out after we are gone. None of this bickering is getting anywhere we all have been hurt by a sharp tongue, and some of us choose to let it go because we know it was said out of anger, and most importantly we are a family.

Monya

You're the MOM

     Eric brought me home from the hospital on the evening of Nov 19th. On Tuesday, the 29th of November, I drove him to the surgery center, just a mile from my house. I wasn't allowed to go back with him until he went into surgery like he always did with me. Before he returned, we hugged and said, "I love you; see you soon." 

    I went home, waiting for the surgery center to call and say all was fine, and I never heard from them. Eric called me and said the center decided to keep him one more night. They had been giving him fluids, but he could not go to the bathroom. I asked about his chest pain and if he still had acid reflux. He said yes, but they were giving him Prilosec. We talked until he fell asleep, and I said, "I love you too; see you soon."

    When he got home, his face was white; he said he was lightheaded, but he could not sit or lie down. We walked during the night, and I could see he was in pain. I ordered smoothies for both of us in the morning, and he said it made him feel better. I told him I had to get my blood taken and I'd be back in an hour. I asked him if he thought he would be okay if I left him for the tests. He told me to go and that he would be ok. I handed him his phone; his walker was next to his recliner, but he hadn't slept all night, so I asked him if he wanted half of something to help him sleep for a while. Looking back on this, I am not one to live with regrets, but this was the biggest regret of my life, I wish I'd never left him.

    I wasn't home in an hour; the doctor's receptionist told me I was late and that my appointment was at Thunderbird Mayo Clinic. This was not a close drive, I worried about leaving Eric, but went against my judgment and left for the appointment. My daughter Kayla went to check on Eric. Then she called me back to tell me she had called 911. I was already on my way home but could not drive fast enough, my heart was racing, and I was scared.

    I made it home with firetrucks, an ambulance, and one officer, and my heart was beating as they rushed him to the emergency room: Kayla drove me there. When they got oxygen on him, he said he felt much better. We were there for several hours, and his blood pressure was going too low, then too high. He was able to speak to us and was coherent. I called Clarence Schaub and Kyhl Powell and asked if they could bless Eric. He loves them, so he was happy when they arrived. Soon after that, Kayla came back, and the ER personnel said it would be better if I left and got some sleep because it would be a while for his room to be ready. Eric begged me to go home with someone else; I told him Kayla had brought me and would take me home but that I really didn't want to leave him like this, I didn't want this to be the last time I could talk to him. Eric assured me he was well cared for, I teared up saying, "I don't want this to be our last conversation." Eric told me to stop talking like that, he would be fine.

    At 2:36 am, I received a call saying they had intubated him, and he was in an induced medical coma, and now he was in the Heart Hospital next door, but there are strict visiting hours in the ICU. I could not go until 9:00 am and waiting for that long was challenging. The last thing I said before I came home from the ER was, I begged Eric to let me stay; he said, "No, you are still recovering, I love you, but I'm in good hands and feel better. I'll see you tomorrow," I said, "I love you."

        When I first looked at Eric, I cried. He looked so vulnerable, and I KNOW he was scared when he couldn't breathe. Someone from my family is always with him. 

    The cardiologist, Dr. Greene came into the waiting area and was trying to talk to me, but Kaitlyn kept asking questions and standing in front of me while trying to give me information about Eric. He finally asked who she was, she said she was his daughter and he told her he needed to talk to me as his wife and Power of Attorney. Dr. Greene told us that Eric's arteries were completely blocked and calcified. It was possible that Eric had been having many little heart attacks over the years, and obviously didn't know about it. The doctor tried to cut through it with three different scalpels but could not budge it. He told us we were keeping him on life support to see if he could wake on his own, but if he came out of the coma and could breathe on his own, he had a long road ahead of him. I tried so hard to keep my emotions to myself but felt like I was not being respected by my children, Kaitlyn was rolling her eyes at every question I had for the doctor. She has had a problem with me for a few years, and I lost control of my emotions. I asked why she rolled her eyes at me, and her answer was "I roll my eyes at everyone." I continued in a harsh manner to ask her why she didn't like me, and why she was so mean to me. It started a horrible loud argument. The doctor could not tell us my husband who I have been with for over 40 years would make it through the night. It scared me so badly; Eric and I have always trusted each other but we have never discussed his investments. I knew about insurance and investments he and I had invested together, but I knew there were investments he made, and I did not want to lose anything Eric had worked on and loved so much, Eric is all about buying low and selling high.  My oldest daughter Kayla, said, "I can't believe you are worried about money when your husband could be dying. All you care about is Dad's money." ' I told her I know exactly how much money I will get from insurance Dad has always been good about keeping that up to date. From early in our marriage until now. I was talking about his investments and not knowing how to take care of any of that. How could she say something like that, my husband may be her Dad but she has no idea what goes through a woman's head when she thinks her husband is going to die. 

      It is now December, and I am hopeful Eric will make it through this and that even if we have to celebrate in the hospital I would, because this is his favorite time of year. When I'd get home at night there were always boxes from Amazon to bring in. I was trying to be aware of those to make sure each one of our grandchildren got a bean bag for themselves Dad and I thought that would be an easy gift and that the children would love it. When I opened them, I realized two were going to be too little for Recker and Ezra and I needed to return these and get bigger chairs for them. I had one day to do that so it would get to my house by Christmas. Then the next day I thought it would be a better day with Eric and with my children, but I was wrong. 

      I whispered to Eric how much I needed him and that I knew he was with his mom and dad, but not to get too comfortable up there because his family needed him, and that he and I still have a lot of life together. I played some songs from my phone quietly next to his ear. "I don't think I can do life without you, please come back to me."     

     In the waiting room was another story, I tried to be less combative but when Kaitlyn pulled her shirt over and said to me, "Look Mom, I don't have any garments on." She was trying to get a rise out of me. I said to her, "And...?" Why would I care if she had garments on? I knew she was trying to start something, so I said to her, "Why do you hate me so much?" Wrong question, I heard everything I have ever done wrong to her. Then I told her how she had hurt me too. This started an argument, Kayla told me, "But you're the mom." I wish I had a nickel every time I've heard that from her. Now I've heard it from all my girls. 

     Does that mean, my children are allowed to hurt my feelings, and be disrespectful and unkind just because I am their mother?  Kayla told me she is Autistic, and that one threw me for a loop as her mother I wondered why I didn't know about this when she was younger. I wanted to know what her doctor told her, and she blew up at me, she said, "So you think I'm lying? I don't have to show you my medical records." Because there is a lack of communication within our family I had no idea why she would be so angry, she was a mother of three boys, one with severe nonverbal Autism and one on the spectrum but he is high functioning. After that argument, I didn't hear from her for a year. When we finally did talk to me she tried to tell me how I was supposed to talk to her now. Okay, I agree with boundaries, but this was more than that, I was supposed to learn a whole new way of speaking to her after 34 years? Overnight, I was expected to speak to her as she requested. Dad and I talked about it and she had never said a word to him, he could speak to her like we always have. Why is he not held to a higher level? Because I'm the mom? She also said to me, "I was abused by someone, and it was in your home?" Very accusatory, I asked where? She said in our house in the Islands, when I asked who it was, she said "It is none of your business." Wow, I wonder if someday, God forbid, she finds out Recker was abused by a respite worker. When I watched him while she worked and she accused me of sexually abusing Recker, seriously? What is wrong with her? I would never touch one of my grandchildren or any child in that way EVER. It was then that I was no longer allowed to watch any of her children. That hurt me so badly, and Dad was angry too of all people in the world why in the hell would she think I would do such an evil thing to my grandchild? After that event, I wouldn't want to be alone with her children for fear she would turn me into CPS for something she 'thought' was real. 

     Back in the hospital waiting room, I decided after Blake started yelling at me that it was time for me to calm down and stay away from Kaitlyn, well actually all my children. Blake and my relationship has always been different than what I had with the girls of course they think he's always been my favorite. I said nothing to him. I know him, he can be as mad at me as he can and it's over, he tells me when I'm out of line, forgiveness is given on both our parts and it's over. My mom said that was exactly how I was growing up. These millennials have a new way of communicating and if it doesn't go their way, even if you are their mom, they are done with you. Kicked me out of their life like a piece of trash. 

     I spent some more time with Eric and then went home. I was crushed again just because I'm the mom. Why couldn't they say, "Mom that really hurt when you said ......" Then we could work on that? Why wait years and years to bring up things I don't even remember as a mother. I don't care what they think I was a good mother, and I am an excellent grandmother. I showed up at the hospital in the morning and all my kids were there, Kayla and Kaitlyn came back from visiting their dad and they said the nurses were doing something so no one could go back for an hour and a half. I watched as they ignored me but were perfectly had to order the right beanbags today. Kayla once again, thinking of herself, turned to me and said, "I can't believe your husband is dying and you are asking about Christmas. I can't talk to you. And I've told you how to speak to me." HUH? I just didn't want her children to be the only ones without a beanbag big enough for them. I guess because I'm the mom, It's not okay to ask questions about Christmas gifts that would have surely hurt their feelings if they got nothing, but it's okay when your dad is dying to be laughing at TIK TOK.

        I stood up to go see Eric and my girls blocked me saying, "Dad doesn't want you here, he said you are trying to kill him." I knew there was no way he said that, we may not be the perfect examples of parents, but Eric and I are in love and have been together for over 40 years. WTF was going on, I just knew Kayla and Kaitlyn had something to do with this, they would hurt me that much to get back at me ... just because I'm the mom. I was so embarrassed I ran to the EXIT to leave, and Haleigh followed me, she said, "Mom do you trust me?" My mind was all over the place. I had no idea what I said to her, but I do trust her. Haleigh is quieter in nature than any of the other children. Haleigh has been through the most with me. She helped take care of me when I was so sick during chemo and radiation, I will always be grateful to her, I ruined her senior year of HS.   

     The next day I came back, and the ICU guard told me I was not allowed in the hospital, that patients were at risk with me there, and especially my husband who thought I wanted to kill him. I said, "I am his POA, I would never hurt him EVER. Who put my name on this list?" She looked at me and said, "Kaitlyn, she is now his POA."   

     I was escorted out by security and asked not to come back. I was crying hysterically, and when I was walking to my car I looked up and saw my children watching me walk to my car.

     So now, I went home and waited for word about my husband but still would not be allowed in the hospital let alone ICU. I was hurt worse than I ever have been and what's worse I knew they didn't care. Blake came by the house that night ringing the doorbell banding on doors wanting to talk to me, but I couldn't, I was in shock still just staring around not knowing what to do next. I'm sorry Blake, I was in a whirlwind of emotions and did not know what to believe. 

      When Eric woke up, Blake called me, told me, and said he would be leaving for a rehab facility in a few days. I asked him if Dad had asked about me, and he said, "No, but you called me while I was in Eric's room and excused himself. When I came back in the room all he had to say was 'Was that mom?' I told him yes, and all he said was "Is she mad?" 

     He was awake and didn't want to know about me? It just didn't seem right, but my kids were in charge and taking over my marriage right before my eyes. I had no idea why he said what he said, I thought he was under life support. Now he's awake and it was obvious that I was not included in any choices about his care. After a couple of months, Haleigh called and wanted to know if Scott and Brian could come over and get his bed for where he was moving. I told her no if he wanted anything from the house, he needed to call me himself.

     And he did within five minutes. I told him unless he talked to me my divorce attorney had said nothing was to be removed from the house, which was no problem because that night someone tried to break in. The next day I went to Home Depot and took a quick course from one of the workers on what the best lock was and how to install them. 

    I told him I spoke with his financial planner that Eric always had me in mind when he made any investments and that it was better under these circumstances for me to take care of as much as I could now. I cried myself to sleep every night, and not once slept in the bed he and I shared.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                             

    When I sat at home alone, I thought about how we didn't have a will written since my first daughter was born; I wasn't worried about money. He and I have discussed the insurance each of us would get if the other passed. But one thing we have never really talked about was his investments. I knew he had many, all with my name on them. Eric loves selling; his passion is getting a deal on the property, then turning around and making twice as much. I tried to explain to my kids I know the insurance policy on myself, my kids, and grandchildren-they will be taken care of. But they seemed angry at me for talking about dad's money; I told them this isn't about money. I have yet to learn about his investments. I've just always trusted him as a businessman. He never had to ask me about investments because I knew he wouldn't buy anything unless he knew we'd make money on it.

XOXO Monya BonBon