The First Year

Monday, December 14, marks one year since Laura passed away. I know many of you are thinking of us all during this time, and perhaps wondering how we are doing. From my perspective, it is certainly difficult not to replay what was going on this time last year…

I try so hard to consciously live out what I wrote about Hope in October. For example, that Friday night (this week I have been thinking more of what was going on in a particular day of that last week in 2008 versus the date) was the last time she was alone with Heather (for which I am so grateful) and it was our last night together. Certainly it was the longest night of my life. I start to think about every hour of that night, being with her alone in the house, as the night progressed coming to grips with what was going to happen, talking to her not knowing if she could understand me, knowing that I was going to have to take her to the hospital, but at the same time not wanting to because I realized we would never be alone again.

It is painful to think about that now. So, at the same time, one year later, I am listening to the kids in the bath, happy as can be, laughing and playing together! We just got home from their ice skating lesson, we are about to go out to dinner with Laura's family, and life is so much more peaceful and promising now.

A year ago tomorrow, on Saturday, I think of all the things that we had to go through, my brother-in-law Johnny being at the hospital right after me first thing at 6:30 in the morning, of the support of my entire family, of what her parents and sister must have been thinking as they drove to the hospital, and of the pain that everyone felt… I remember feeling pity for the doctor that had to deliver the news to me and ask for the decision on what to do, I remember then telling the family the news of what was to happen and what we needed to do, of holding Laura's hand and whispering into her ear… "Honey, it's okay, you can go now, I love you and I'll see you soon", hearing the pain in people's voices and seeing it in their eyes as I told them, and the long and terrible night ahead prior to her passing on Sunday morning… these things and many more are burned into my memory and try relentlessly to surface.

But, I tell you that this weekend could easily be about focusing on all of those things and dredging up that pain… but it will not be. It will be about remembering Laura as we do every day, realizing that she is gone and there is nothing we can do about that fact, having faith that we will be with her and each other again, and focusing on all of the things that are happening now with those of us lucky enough to be here, and of the joy to come in life if we let it!

Everything that happens to us leaves a mark… it changes us as a person. We all have, or will, lose someone we love. When that happens, we can never be the same. In this past year, I have learned that it is okay and expected to grieve and that the pain of the loss will be dulled, but will not go away. At the same time I have learned to smile and take joy in listening to kids play in the bathtub!


I have been reflecting on the year and wondering if there was a moment I should share. I remember one moment vividly… it was at the end of the Missouri Boys State program this June. It was my first year as Director of the program, and historically the Director reads a list of those that have passed on and says a few words about them. For those of you who have been there, you know how emotional it can be… every year it is. All the one thousand Boys Staters, their families, and 150 plus staff members are in the college gymnasium… the lights go dark, and taps is played immediately after. Knowing this leading up to the program I didn't know if I could do it… but I knew I had to. It turned into a highly emotional moment for me, because Boys State has been a huge part of my life. Laura supported my involvement and knew how much I cared about it. She know it was part of doing something worthwhile with your life... which she was so clearly committed to. She was loved by my friends and brothers on the Boys State staff. I thought a lot about what I was going to (try to) say. As I was saying it, I felt as if I was alone, talking to her and thanking her for the years of support… it was an incredibly special moment for me. Here are my remarks (copied verbatim from my talking notes):

"LAURA PLUNKETT
LAURA WAS MY WIFE AND THE WONDERFUL MOTHER OF OUR TWO YOUNG CHILDREN, MORGAN AND JACK. FROM THE FIRST DAY WE MET, SHE UNDERSTOOD THAT MY EXPERIENCES AT BOYS STATE HAD SHAPED THE MAN THAT I WAS AND THE HUSBAND AND FATHER I WOULD BECOME. SHE SUPPORTED ME AND ENABLED ME TO CONTINUE TO GIVE MY TIME TO BOYS STATE, EVEN AFTER WE STARTED OUR FAMILY. SHE UNDERSTOOD THE IMPORTANCE OF THIS PROGRAM. SHE KNEW MY BEST FRIENDS IN LIFE WERE FROM THE BOYS STATE STAFF. INDEED, SHE CONSIDERED THEM PART OF OUR FAMILY.
SHE DIED IN DECEMBER AFTER A COURAGEOUS AND INSPIRING BATTLE WITH BREAST CANCER. SHE DEMONSTRATED TO ME AND EVERYONE SHE MET THE POWER OF FAITH, LOVE, HOPE AND DETERMINATION.
I HOPE SHE WILL SERVE AS A REMINDER TO OUR STAFF OF THE IMPORTANCE OF OUR FAMILIES, WHO ALLOW US THE TIME TO SERVE THIS FINE PROGRAM.
I CHERISH HER MEMORY. SHE IS DEEPLY MISSED. MAY SHE REST IN PEACE."


I know she does Rest In Peace. Let us remember to Live In Peace.

I know it is what she wants.