Renee Roissier Miller

Well, it’s now been a year since my world fell apart.  365 days to get used to the fact that Renee is gone and she’s never coming back. The times when I am either awakened or jarred out of a solitary daze by some guttural, almost inhuman sounds, and then realizing the source of those sounds is me, come less frequently now. What’s not mentioned in my quirk of counting days and remembering dates is my awareness of very small milestones and other details. I noticed and it affected me when the last of the food Renee bought was finally eaten and gone. Condiments and toiletries she had purchased were then used up and had to be replaced by me. Who knew that finishing off a damn bottle of ketchup would be such a sad event?  Clothing and toys she provided for the kids were outgrown or worn out, and the knowledge she won’t be going back to the store for us brought more pain. Improvements, repairs and updates to the house she will never see. The list goes on.  I cried each time I gave pieces of her clothing and other mementos of hers to people who were special to us, even though it was something I really wanted to do. I’ve already mentioned the big dates and life events Renee wasn’t around to be part of but the little things and the finality of it all has been a truly heartbreaking experience. The small stuff can hurt a lot, too. I thought I knew a little bit about pain and suffering but I’ve come to realize I didn’t have a clue.

No middle-aged man ever loved their mother more than I did mine but watching Mom become mentally and physically ravaged and then dying from cancer was a relative walk in the park when judged by this past year. The still very sad anniversary of her death, a joyous event compared to the emotion in remembering the loss of my Renee. My grief is only the tip of the iceberg, as each of my children also lost their mother and best friend. Some things just defy explanation and to me this is one of them. People can draw upon whatever faith they possess to try and understand why this happened to such a wonderful woman but it will never make sense to me. With the exception of those who caused this and maybe a few who support the guilty I would never wish this type of emotional devastation on anyone, no matter how much I may dislike them. I’ve mentioned before and several recent posts have hammered the point home again, my family has no monopoly on suffering and while this posting may not reflect it I never forget this fact. My heart goes out to each and every one of you who has suffered a similarly unexpected or horrific loss of this type. To the one recent poster who had an almost unbelievable string of terrible death in her family, thank you for providing an example of how life can and must go on. Moving on while never forgetting is something I am trying to do. Maybe I am getting a little better at managing day-to-day living in spite of some of the recent emotional triggers. I know my Renee would get on with life, enjoy the moment, plan for the future and live to the fullest each and every day if our situation had been reversed. Her glass was always half full and she looked for ways to top it off. I’m pretty sure she would expect the same from me and while I don’t have her natural gifts for happiness and fulfillment, I do have her examples. Even while looking toward a brighter future there is no way to sugar coat this day. It is a very tough one for me and my family. I do appreciate the thoughts, prayers, concerns and support from those following my family’s current struggles and hopefully some future triumphs. While I am not the preaching type, if anyone has something too long put off, a fence to mend, or needs to take a break to enjoy the moment or otherwise reflect on the good things life has to offer before some tragedy changes it forever, then please mend the fence or enjoy the moment or do whatever it is that is missing in your life.  Do it in memory of Renee, I am sure she would approve.

Thanks again to the many who care.

-jamie