Memories #1
Today marks one month since my favorite person left earth. One whole page of the calendar. It feels like a year has passed. I feel old, like a woman who looks at the young whippersnappers, and calls them honey.
I have warned all of my nearest and dearest friends that I have no filter right now. I will say whatever I think. This blog is my outlet. I will drive you grammar freaks right off the edge. If I annoy you, go find another blog to read.
I find a reason to put him into most conversations. I love to talk about him. Somehow it makes me feel closer to him, to the memories we made.
Ricky and I met when we were 18 and 19. He was a solid foot taller than me and big. Like I-could-crush-you-in-an-instant big, but also like a nice, big teddy bear. I think he was somewhere around 200 pounds more than me. We were babies, we often said we grew up together. We met in church (Ricky liked to say it was on E-Harmony). I had driven to church with my parents. Ricky was always one to make a party happen wherever he went. He invited my sister and I back to his house for Sunday tacos. When I said how great it would be, but we didn't have a car, he quickly explained he could drive. Then we went out in the parking lot. Guys, his car was a circu-1980-something chevy impala. It was the largest car I had ever seen. The doors were longer than me. Fresh off the mission field, I tried hard not to judge. The ceiling was falling in, my sister and I got in the backseat, he and a friend got in the front. We began driving, he turned on his music, I don't remember what it was only that is was beyond ghetto and ridiculously loud. The speakers in the trunk probably cost more than the car. She and I kept giving each other homeschool awkward-thank-God-I'm-not-alone-back-here glances. Ricky got put into the solid friend-zone that day. Definitely not my "type" but all around a good man who loved Jesus, music and all things fun.
Fast forward a little more than 2 years later, and we were married. I think we just figured out we worked. We had more fun together than apart. He was the yin to my yang. He bought $200 shoes, and I, the $.50 ones from the thrift store. He drove the ridiculously large car and I the itty-bitty civic hatchback. He loved to make me laugh. He was incredibly caring and cherished me in such a sweet way. Women have often told me that Ricky had a way of making them feel safe in a way they had not felt before. At the funeral his friend Josh said, "Ricky made you feel like picking a fight with somebody just because you knew he had your back." I never thought about having to take care of myself, I always knew I could count on him. His last words to me were "you know I'll never give up". He was the strongest person I've ever met. He refused to give up in the face of adversity, which we faced a lot of. He was always determined to let Jesus shine through him.
Ricky was determined to make the most out of life. He never did anything small. Which would explain the giant gaping hole he left. As a family we are slowly coming to terms with what our new normal looks like. The kids and I miss him every hour, of everyday. We are looking to Jesus to fill the void. I'm kind of in love with these verses.
Disclaimer: If you see me and my little clan, we may start telling you another Ricky-story that you have heard before. Just smile and nod; we are remembering our favorite person.
I have warned all of my nearest and dearest friends that I have no filter right now. I will say whatever I think. This blog is my outlet. I will drive you grammar freaks right off the edge. If I annoy you, go find another blog to read.
"We talk about them, not because we're stuck or because we haven't moved on, but we talk about them because they are ours and no passage of time will ever change that" - Scribbles and CrumbsA friend sent me this quote, early this morning. It was a lovely thought to wake up to.
I find a reason to put him into most conversations. I love to talk about him. Somehow it makes me feel closer to him, to the memories we made.
Ricky and I met when we were 18 and 19. He was a solid foot taller than me and big. Like I-could-crush-you-in-an-instant big, but also like a nice, big teddy bear. I think he was somewhere around 200 pounds more than me. We were babies, we often said we grew up together. We met in church (Ricky liked to say it was on E-Harmony). I had driven to church with my parents. Ricky was always one to make a party happen wherever he went. He invited my sister and I back to his house for Sunday tacos. When I said how great it would be, but we didn't have a car, he quickly explained he could drive. Then we went out in the parking lot. Guys, his car was a circu-1980-something chevy impala. It was the largest car I had ever seen. The doors were longer than me. Fresh off the mission field, I tried hard not to judge. The ceiling was falling in, my sister and I got in the backseat, he and a friend got in the front. We began driving, he turned on his music, I don't remember what it was only that is was beyond ghetto and ridiculously loud. The speakers in the trunk probably cost more than the car. She and I kept giving each other homeschool awkward-thank-God-I'm-not-alone-back-here glances. Ricky got put into the solid friend-zone that day. Definitely not my "type" but all around a good man who loved Jesus, music and all things fun.
Fast forward a little more than 2 years later, and we were married. I think we just figured out we worked. We had more fun together than apart. He was the yin to my yang. He bought $200 shoes, and I, the $.50 ones from the thrift store. He drove the ridiculously large car and I the itty-bitty civic hatchback. He loved to make me laugh. He was incredibly caring and cherished me in such a sweet way. Women have often told me that Ricky had a way of making them feel safe in a way they had not felt before. At the funeral his friend Josh said, "Ricky made you feel like picking a fight with somebody just because you knew he had your back." I never thought about having to take care of myself, I always knew I could count on him. His last words to me were "you know I'll never give up". He was the strongest person I've ever met. He refused to give up in the face of adversity, which we faced a lot of. He was always determined to let Jesus shine through him.
Ricky was determined to make the most out of life. He never did anything small. Which would explain the giant gaping hole he left. As a family we are slowly coming to terms with what our new normal looks like. The kids and I miss him every hour, of everyday. We are looking to Jesus to fill the void. I'm kind of in love with these verses.
"Find rest oh my soul, in God alone; my hope comes from HIM, He alone is my ROCK and my salvation; He is my fortress, I will not be shaken. My salvation and honor depend on God; he is my mighty ROCK, my refuge. Trust in HIM at all times, pour out your hearts to him, for God is our refuge. - Psalms 62ish
Disclaimer: If you see me and my little clan, we may start telling you another Ricky-story that you have heard before. Just smile and nod; we are remembering our favorite person.
