I have been avoiding writing all day. Actually, let me be honest. It’s been well over a week, but today feels especially urgent. Still, I have procrastinated as long as I could. I’ve given myself only about 15–20 minutes to write because I’ll be leaving for my Monday night women’s meeting soon. I’m grateful for my homegroup meeting.
Tomorrow marks 18 years since Matt was shot and died. It feels unreal that it has been that long. As the years accumulate, the more anguish I feel.
I’m grateful that I now have some videos from when Matthew was born and when we brought him home from David Grant Hospital. Thank you, Mike Garcia, for giving them to me. The videos are wonderful and heart-wrenching at the same time.
I was 19 years old, not knowing much about anything, but I knew I would love my baby boy with all that I had—which wasn’t much. But our little Matthew (Mammo was his nickname) was surrounded by love. He was so little and innocent and beautiful.
Everything in my life feels like a paradox.
I am so grateful for the 22 years we had with our Matthew, and yet I am still angry and will be devastated for the remainder of my life. There is no fixing that pain. There is nothing to ease the anguish.
And yet, I get to keep Matt’s dream alive through the Matt Garcia Foundation. Again, I am forever grateful for all the love and support of the most dedicated board of volunteers, some of whom have been part of creating and carrying this foundation for nearly 18 years.
Matt is shining down with love. I know he is. I can feel him. I love you and miss you, my beautiful son.
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