Seahawks and Super Bowl Fever!
Yes, we had the best New Year’s Eve celebration we have ever had in our lives (see 2013) and yes, Amy turned 18 years old, but the most important thing on all of our minds was the Super Bowl. After 37 years of heartache with our beloved football team the Seattle Seahawks, they were dominating every corner of the field both on offense and defense. And they looked unstoppable, so to say this house was over exuberant at the prospect of facing the top AFC team in the Super Bowl AND having a really good chance of winning the coveted Lombardi trophy is a vast understatement!
Since Matthew got his Legion of Boom sweatshirt over Christmas, along with his Richard Sherman jersey, he was CONVINCED that if he took either garment off the Seahawks would lose. So it was at this point in his life that I insisted he do his OWN laundry, as I could no longer bear the smell of his clothes after being constantly worn on his adolescent body! And from that day forward Matthew was an ace at doing laundry – he even ironed things he really cared about whether they needed it or not, and could be found repeatedly sewing up his favorite things that he wasn’t ready to part with and we didn’t have the money to replace (like his pink breast cancer socks, even after being benched by his football coach for showing up to a game wearing them instead of the assigned game colored socks!). Matthew also took the money Grampa Koot gave him for Christmas and (with his mother’s permission) bought the iPod he had so desperately wanted since his old one irreparably broke, and it was this iPod that was responsible for all the selfies with him and Mom rooting on the Seahawks during post season games. Funny thing about the lovely “remembrance ribbon” initially put together by wrestler William McMahon and his mother Megan honoring Matthew in the days following his death: the picture centered in the Seahawks-colored ribbon of Matthew and Mom was snapped during the NFC championships against the Green Bay Packers in Seattle. The ONLY reason I allowed Matthew to take that picture was with the proviso that it NEVER ended up on the internet or any social media site, which he eagerly promised not to do at the time. So imagine my surprise when I went into the high school the next day to drop off Matthew’s wrestling singlet and was greeted in the hallway by Matthew’s good friend Jaiden Davis who said, “You are SO adorable in that picture Mrs. Albrecht!” I blew a gasket. When I picked Matthew up from practice that night I was still fuming and he was grounded for an entire week! So it is with great irony that this particular picture is the one William chose to use on that ribbon….
I’ll never forget watching the Seahawks completely roll over Peyton Manning and the Denver Broncos – Matthew had this funny “good luck dance” he used to do every time the Seahawks did something awesome on the field (which, during the 2013-2014 football season was almost every single play!). I wouldn’t say it involved “twerking” (NOT allowed in my house!) but it came dangerously close. But hey, it seemed to bring the team the best of luck, and Matthew was convinced so did my special Seattle Seahawk Nacho dish (at least that’s what Matthew proclaimed). Our little household of three rode very high for the months that followed our Super Bowl win. And I understand from Matthew’s friends that ever since that time Matthew was completely obnoxious about how amazing “his” Seahawks were – I’m not sure there were many days from this point forward where he wasn’t wearing something Seahawk-y up until the day he died, because he had it all – socks, hats, banners, tee-shirts, sweatshirts, tanks, shorts, sweats, stickers – stickers – stickers, flags, banners, posters, license plate holders, scarves, winter hats, Christmas hats, gloves, sunglasses, drinking glasses, mugs. But he drew the line on Seahawks underwear!
Snowstorm in February
Shortly after the Seahawks trounced the Broncos, we were “blessed” with Matthew’s most FAVORITE weather events – SNOW! To say Matthew loved snow is a serious understatement, so when we got hammered with heavy snowfall on February 7th of that year, Matthew simply could not contain himself and burst outside into the night air wearing only his pajamas, whopping and hollering and telling his sister to get her a** outside (he knew better than to say that to me) and play with him in the snow. Surprisingly, she did. Then Matthew moved on to his next challenge: Mom. Now you have to understand, Matthew’s enthusiasm was infectious to anyone who was around him, and if you were resistant to this level of enthusiasm well, let’s just say he wasn’t very good at taking “No” for an answer. When situations like this arose (he couldn’t get a particular person to participate), Matthew would break into comedy routines that begged your participation. On this particular night he acted out a stodgy old woman complaining about the cold, what the snow would do to her precious roses, how she’d have to walk a mile uphill barefoot to get blankets to cover the flower beds to keep them warm, and on her way back (uphill again) she would fall and break her hip, yada yada yada. And he’d act the whole thing out, old-lady-accent and all, then insist I was being waaaaaayyyyyy too sensitive because I thought he was trying to mimic his mother (of course the look on his face gave it away EVERY time!). But the point of this story is this: no one could stay resistant to Matthew’s enthusiasm for any length of time, because pretty soon you’d be on the floor laughing so hard you would cry, and all sense of “reasonableness” would go out the window, so yeah, at the tender age of way-too-old-for-this I found myself out in the snow at some ungodly hour definitely not bundled up enough, making snow angels with Matthew and Amy. I didn’t last nearly as long outside as those two and I came back inside to make a roaring fire and start heating up water for cocoa and mini-marshmallows (Matthew HAD to have MINI marshmallows for some reason, even at age 15!). Soon after that the kids came in to warm up, drink their cocoa, and then Matthew dragged us back outside to the big patio to make what was supposed to be a snowman but, being the adolescent male that he was, he pulled a gender-switch by sticking two huge snow-breasts on the structure and proudly declared “Snow-Woman”.
Matthew Gets Fitted For His First Tuxedo
During Spring Break, Amy shocked both Matthew and I when she announced her desire to compete in a National Scholarship Pageant for cash Scholarship Awards later in May. Matthew’s first response was, “What? You’re going to like, wear a dress and makeup and do something with your hair and stuff?” (actually, now that I think of it, that was his SECOND response….his first response was along the lines of “ooohhhhh – swimsuit competition! I’m SO going to watch!”). I don’t think either Matthew or I really took Amy seriously because it was so out of character for her (and out of my budget to boot!). But the next thing I knew, Amy had talked to godparents Auntie Catherine & Uncle David in Dubai, Grampa Koot, and several others about sponsoring her participation and voila’ - she was entered as a contestant! So I scraped up what money I could to buy her a “formal” dress, and Aunt Cath & Uncle David paid for everything else. When we learned Amy would need an escort, she turned to her not-so-baby-brother-anymore and asked him if he would do the honors. A HUGE grin spread slowly across his face and he replied, “Heck ye-aa!”. Since Aunt Catherine was already in town from Dubai, she guided Matthew’s tux rental fitting at Mr.Formal in downtown Portland, and when I saw my baby boy standing there in front of me in the store fully outfitted from head to toe including cuff links, so incredibly handsome and grown up, I cried. And Matthew took to the formal wear like a duck takes to water – it transformed him in every way….manners, patience, grace, language, attitude, posture. He was my son, but still I was completely and thoroughly awestruck by the overall totality of his presence, as was his sister Amy.
Pageant Weekend
Matthew, Amy, and I pulled up to the relatively posh Doubletree Inn in NE Portland in the only mostly-working vehicle I had at the time: my farm truck, a huge 7.3 liter Turbo Diesel Ford F250+ built to haul a 37’ horse rig fully loaded from Oregon to Florida and back. And it still had scraps of hay in the flatbed! I was embarrassed beyond belief, because it was “Valet Parking Only”, and I couldn’t imagine asking someone to park that beast much less drive it. But not Matthew. Oh no, he was over-the-top proud that we were commanding such a vehicle and making such an entrance (my diesel truck is particularly loud too). Matthew immediately hopped out of “Buster” (name of my truck) and went right to the Valet guy and said “I know you’re probably used to parking wussy cars like Prius’s and stuff but this here is a REAL piece of art that you’re getting the privilege to drive, so make sure you are VERY careful not to damage it or my mom is gonna be really upset – “… then he leans in a bit closer to the guy (but doesn’t alter the decibel level of his voice) and says, “ and she’s uber-scary when she’s upset!”. I.was.mortified. I can’t imagine what the valet thought when he saw this fairly small woman/mom jump down out of her immensely over-sized truck and walk over to him with her keys, but his eyes spoke volumes – they were completely bugged out to say the least, and that is when Matthew said “Oh, you don’t have to worry about her now – she’s not pissed…YET”, and he slaps the valet on the back in a manly way before sprinting over to his sister and grabbing all the luggage and clothes and heads into the lobby. I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, I just handed the man my keys, mumbled something about the horrible turning radius on the truck, wished him luck, and hurried off after my kids trying to forget the whole thing.
The Pageant
Amy’s nerves almost got the better of her, but Matthew helped pull her through (as he always did for both of us in trying times). And as boring as it must have been for him the majority of the time (especially since there was NO swimsuit competition!), Matthew never acted impatient, nor did he whine about anything. He stayed focused on Amy because I think he knew this weekend was all about her and not him. Several hours before the Formal Wear competition where Matthew was to escort Amy, Amy had to “report” to another room to go over final prep sequences for that evening’s competition, and the minute she left the room Matthew quickly turned to me and said “Mom! We gotta hurry! I have to get Amy flowers!” I had absolutely NO idea what he was talking about, but the gist was something along the lines of how proud he was that his beyond-introverted sister had put herself directly in the limelight in front of a bunch of people she didn’t know, and how he wanted Amy to know how special she was to him, and he thought that if he gave her flowers to look at after he finished escorting her, it would give her courage and help keep her focused on the love that went behind the flowers instead of all the people staring at her. Even though I wasn’t sure about the flower thing, I thought Matthew’s beliefs/feelings behind his offering were purely beautiful, so off we sprinted (literally, because we didn’t have a lot of time) a good 10 blocks to the first flower store we saw that was open and Matthew picked out the assortment he wanted to give her. The florist wrapped the arrangement snuggly in frozen paper, told Matthew what a wonderful brother she thought he was, and wished him luck. We sprinted back and hid the flowers in the fridge in our hotel room just in time!
There are few events which occur in your lifetime that, when replayed in your head, project those memories with a movie-like quality and tone. This night, the Formal Wear competition, was one of those defining moments for me as a mother and human being. Where beauty, grace, and harmony blend perfectly together to yield a perfect result. The minutes that encompassed watching my two sibling teenagers walk arm-in-arm onto and flow around that stage, leaning on the invisible support, comfort, unconditional love, and confidence that they silently and steadfastly gave each other, will sustain me until my end, and this movie will be as vivid as it was that night, and the emotion just as strong.
Big Sister Graduates and Matthew Freaks Out
Amy’s graduation from high school wasn’t Matthew’s “event”, but it definitely was a difficult event in Matthew’s life. In the days leading up to her ceremony, Matthew pretty much focused on how jealous he was that she was graduating, no one was going to “make” her go to school any more if she didn’t want to, that she got to go on and be an adult and do whatever she wanted. And he pretty much repeated different versions of the same thing up until they started handing out the diplomas and reading off the names of the graduates. The first thing Matthew really reacted to was the fact that someone else in Amy’s graduating class had a higher GPA than she did which made him pretty mad. As much as I tried to convince him that when the GPA’s are that high (the top 10% were all over 4.20) it didn’t really matter but he would absolutely have none of it. Then when they read Amy’s name and she went up to get her diploma, I saw Matthew’s eyes well up with tears, which he quickly wiped away before they could spill down his face or, God forbid, someone saw him crying. I stared at him in shock and completely forgot to even clap for Amy after she shook the principal’s hand. Matthew saw that I was watching him and said, “What?! I have allergies”. I put my hand on top of his and said, “me too”. I could see the wheels spinning in his head but let him sit with his thoughts. This lasted maybe five minutes before he leaned over to me, eyes welling up again, and asked “Is Amy going to leave us now?” and I told him not right away, but that this was what “growing up” meant and that his time would come sooner than he realized (of course I was talking about his schooling, nothing more) but just because your brother or sister moves away doesn’t mean their love for you moves with them. I told him that the close bond he and Amy had shared growing up together would only strengthen as they got older, and I counselled him to cherish the time she was home with us and to make the most of it to the best of his ability. Then I pointed out that I would probably be far more devastated when both of my babies had “flown the coop” than either of them would be to which he laughed and replied, “True dat!”
School’s Out – Matthew’s Birthday and Walla Walla, Washington
While Walla Walla had never been on any of our “destination” lists, we were still pretty short on funds and knew we had to use our imaginations to create our own special vacation memories. So when Uncle David and Auntie Catherine invited us to spend four days with them up in Walla Walla while they pursued their dream of purchasing and running their own wine hotel, we loaded up our truck (the van was still dead) with fun outdoor equipment, packed it all around Griz’s Kennel, kept the remainder of Matthew’s 15th birthday cake in the cab (!), and made an adventure out of it. Mom being mom, I rented a book tape to listen to in case the kids got bored or cranky, and we took a scenic route along never-traveled-by-our-family roads through the Columbia Gorge. The weather was perfect, the views stunning. Griz was thrilled to have the wind in his face and the three of us were glad to get away from farm chores for four days!
Cath and David had rented a really nice three bedroom house in downtown Walla Walla, complete with a nicely fenced backyard for Griz. And there was a hot tub which spelled “Ritz” to Amy and Matthew! David purchased tickets for all of us to watch a minor league baseball game which turned out to be super fun (especially watching Matthew dancing/mimicking their mascot which was an onion, of all things). We poked around old buildings, looked at some antiques, were treated to some incredible meals at several very nice eateries and, of course, we listened eagerly to these amazing ideas Catherine and David wanted to bring to fruition in their lives. Why is this last sentence relevant to Matthew’s life? Because I remember walking Griz with Matthew after a particularly busy day for Cat and David regarding their dream, and him asking me if I thought Auntie Cath and Uncle David were really going to buy that “butt-ugly building”. I laughed and explained that if they bought it, the building wouldn’t stay ugly and they would fix it up, but Matthew remained unconvinced about the wisdom of their choice. He couldn’t understand why anyone would want to do something like that, much less his beloved Uncle David who Matthew thought was waaaayyyyy smarter than that! What made them think they could make it pretty? And with this last question of Matthew’s, a very long conversation about visionaries was spawned.
I don’t remember which “visionaries” Matthew and I discussed, but the main takeaway idea (which was eventually accepted by Matthew) was that everyone needs to have a dream, and the belief and confidence in themselves that by pursuing their dreams, they will not only increase their chances of achieving that dream, but maybe even more importantly is that the pursuit of said dream will set a lot of other things in motion, open many more doors that would otherwise have remained closed, any of which could easily turn out to be even better than what they originally envisioned. That this was what “life’s journey” meant….it was an actively organic process that did NOT involve sitting on your butt doing nothing and being jealous of what others had, but instead trying to reach your goals/dreams and discovering for yourself what was truly important to you, growing and stretching in the process, shaping the life that you would ultimately lead and be remembered for. Then, in all seriousness, Matthew asked me if I could help him see his “journey”, and I had to really stifle a laugh because he was super sensitive about being laughed at, even when that kind of intent was not there. So I asked him what his goals were for his Sophomore year in high school – he informed me his life was NOT high school, so I said “Well, you have to start somewhere, sweetie, and if you have no goals for your Sophomore year, how are you going to get to your Junior year?” Then, I believe, the metaphorical light bulb went off in Matthew’s head, because after we got home from Walla Walla and I was cleaning out the truck, I found a slip of paper written in Matthew’s handwriting titled “Goals for my Sophomore Year”, with a list of about four things.
**NOTE: Fast-forward to Friday, March 17, 2016, sometime in the evening: Earlier in the week my friend Rita Madsen had picked up Matthew’s personal effects from the Medical Examiner’s Office that were on him the night he died. Each item had been carefully cleaned before being put into a fresh Ziploc bag. I took a deep breath and screwed up the courage to open the bag and look at each item, hold it, and absorb it. I came to a neatly folded piece of white paper. Amy told me not to open it, but of course I had to. As the paper unfolded, I knew immediately what was on it, because I had run into similar pieces of paper when I was emptying Matthew’s pockets out to wash his clothes. I saw his full name neatly written in pencil by Matthew in the upper right hand corner, the title of which simply stated, “Goals for Senior Year”. The list was small but powerful:
Place in the top 4 at State (Wrestling)
Keep going in Wrestling as long as possible
Join the Marines
Work hard in life.
Lummi Island Vacation
Harvesting hay always messed with our summer vacation plans -- this year was no different. In fact it was worse because the harvest came in very late, and Matthew was fit to be tied. Because we weren’t able to get up to Lummi Island (family cabin in the San Juans) until July 10th, Matthew was panicked that we wouldn’t be able to get any fireworks on the Lummi Indian Reservation because Fourth of July had come and gone. Building bonfires on the beach and shooting off these fireworks was second in excitement only to Christmas for my son, and it was the only way to keep Matthew excited about being away from Silverton, the internet, and being “stuck” on a small island with his sister and mother for a whole week. The conversation in the truck all the way up there was fraught with worry and pessimism, making the 300-mile journey feel more like 1000. Personally, I knew Matthew had nothing to worry about, but all my attempts at allaying what at the time were his worst fears, fell on completely deaf ears. So as we turned left on Haxton Road (the road that most of the firework stands are on), Matthew had never been so elated about him being wrong and Mom being right, for up ahead, with an eerie-like glow, was not only an open Fireworks stand, but it was an open SEAHAWKS fireworks stand! Matthew ordered me to pull in, then in a hurried afterthought squeaked out, “Please”, as he jumped out of the truck running before I’d even come to a full stop. By the time Amy and I caught up to him, Matthew had already wheeled and dealed for a ridiculously extensive fireworks package AND was twisting the guy’s arm to thrown in more freebies (because “Mom” would never go for it if it didn’t have everything and she would only spend so much money). I have to say, it was definitely the most generous bargain I’ve ever received and I’m sure Matthew being a hard-driving customer helped….but so did the fact that it was after fourth of July! (But I let Matthew believe it was all him).
Matthew clutched his fireworks booty so tightly all the way to the ferry dock that I thought all that pressure would make it all spontaneously ignite. He was grin was so huge and so consistent that I wondered if I had any ibuprofen at the cabin to help with what surely would result in intense facial pain! Matthew actually slept with that box of fireworks in his bed that night and I’m guessing all that worrying followed by excitement must have wiped him out otherwise he would have been hounding both Amy and I to light the fireworks off when we arrived at the cabin despite the fact it was close to midnight and we were all very exhausted.
We had our bonfires, roasted our hot dogs and marshmallows, made s’mores, watched the always gorgeous sunsets, listened to the constant but predictably peaceful sound of the water lapping at the shore, only disrupted by Griz’s love of swimming. Matthew put on an incredible fireworks show for us – probably the best one ever – and we had a wonderful week together at Lummi Island, playing card games, Boggle, Uno, Monopoly; sea kayaking, crabbing, digging for clams, building sand castles, bicycling; viewing all the wildlife Lummi has to offer: bald eagles, deer, and seals - we even saw an orca pod that summer, which was a rarity.
Matthew Gets His Driver’s Permit
I would be remiss not mentioning the fact that Matthew got his driving permit on August 8th of this summer – I was shocked that Matthew wasn’t nagging the crap out of me to get him into the DMV the moment he turned 15 years old. Turns out he felt he needed more “study time” with the written stuff and Amy was more than happy to oblige him in this area. He actually only missed one question on the Permit test so he beat both Mom and Amy on this one. I guess the other thing holding him back was the fact that the only vehicle that was operating at the time was my truck and he knew I wasn’t going to be letting him “learn” in it because I couldn’t afford to have the truck wrecked as it only had liability insurance covering it.
A Week Alone on the Farm with His “Brothers” Austin & Ryder Appling
For Amy’s graduation present, I purchased two tickets for her and a friend to go to the “Supernatural” (TV series) Convention being held in Vancouver, B.C., Canada, in late August. What I didn’t realize at the time was that Amy would ultimately be asking me to go with her as opposed to someone else (I thought she would go with Liz Timmons). The obvious dilemma was what to do with Matthew during this week? And the obvious answer was to ask Austin (21 and extremely responsible) and Ryder (18) Appling to live here on the farm with Matthew while we were in Canada. With a little-too-enthusiastic-yes! They agreed. As Amy & I packed our things for the trip, I tried not to break out in hives thinking about what all that testosterone could possibly do in my absence, and how wide the girth of damage would be left in their wake after I was away for seven days.
I laid out the rules. Then I laid out MORE rules. And then added some more for good measure, trying to cover all the bases. As usual, time flew by and before I knew it Amy & I were heading home after having a great week. As I pulled into the farm I was very pleased to see that the farm animals were very well cared for in our absence and the lawn/s had been mowed/weed-whacked. But Matthew was not at all excited to see his mom and sis come home from Canada, to say the least, and that’s when I knew he had a little TOO much fun.
I’m sure Austin and Ryder followed most, if not all of the rules, like I asked them to do. Austin and Ryder are just those kinds of young men – very polite, protective, respectful, and I love both of them like they are my own sons. Where I fell VERY far short is in the imagination department of what they could possibly dream up all on their own – like taking my son dirt-bike riding all over the neighbor’s property, increasing his “redneck” and otherwise vocabulary exponentially, and “teaching” Matthew to hate chewing tobacco by making him chew so much of the stuff at one time that he puked his guts out all night long (it did the trick, though, gotta give them that!) I could go on about some other stuff, but I won’t out of respect for them and Matthew. I know their hearts were in the right place – just not their brains. Matthew had the time of his life, THAT’S for sure!
Annual Race For The Cure & Weekend @ The Benson
Matthew was my biggest breast cancer supporter BAR NONE, and he took his responsibility very seriously, part of which meant he was the impetus behind the three of us participating in Susan G. Komen’s Race For The Cure in Portland every Fall. My reconstruction surgeon always sponsored a team for her patients and subsidized my kids due to extenuating financial circumstances. We would spend the night at the Benson where my doctor’s morning breakfast was held, and I would treat the kid’s to Greek food at Alexis Restaurant off Burnside (Matthew LOVED calamari!) the night before. We’d usually rent a “in-room” movie, go swimming (again, Matthew was all about the water), goof off with pillow fights, and talk like we were really rich important people (Matthew had a genuine gift for impressions). We’d get to downtown Portland as early as possible if the weather was decent, so we could window shop, watch the street performers (Matthew’s favorite was this silver colored dude), walking everywhere and having fun.
School & Football Season (#27) Starts
Matthew was beyond thrilled to NOT be a Freshman at Silverton High School any more. I never really understood this, but I’m guessing it’s much harder on males to be a first year student than it is on females. Or maybe it had to do with the increased confidence level that comes with actually having a clue what high school is all about after getting a year under your belt. At any rate, Matthew was in the classes he wanted, football season was going well for him, he had friends, and really got into Spirit Week, going all out for every one of the dress up days. He loved playing in the Band and being in Marching Band for Friday night Varsity Football games, dressing up “Fox Crazy” for everyone. The bonus at the end of regular football season was that the Silverton Foxes football team made it all the way to 5A Quarter Finals, which meant the Band was on the move, so Matthew got to travel around a lot and have a blast with all of his friends (his Band grade depended on his participation so Mom couldn’t say “No!”). Many of these nights ended late, so Matthew adopted his “in town family” where his best friends Collin and Jaiden lived, headed up by moms Spicey & Carrie (whose house already burgeoned with 7 kids!). Matthew crashed with his friends/”second family” around 25% of the time simply because a) they loved him like their own, and b) it made no sense for me to drive into town at midnight to pick him up from football games/band, then turn around five hours later and get him to the high school to catch the wrestling team bus for the meets on Saturday. So to try and help balance things out, I would take Collin and Jaiden for many weekends so Spicey and Carrie got a bit of a break, and the boys lived here with me and Matthew on the farm. And so, a pattern of living was born out of necessity and friendship, quickly strengthened, and became the complete “norm” up until the day Matthew was no longer on this earth.
A Lot of Firsts for Matthew in 2014:
First Home Coming Dance – September 20, 2014
Matthew really wanted to go to the Home Coming Dance, and since it was on sight at the high school and well supervised, I thought it was a great idea. We only had one problem to overcome: dress code. Despite scouring the local Goodwill stores for a suitable pair of dress pants, we came up empty-handed (Matthew was fairly picky about his clothing choices). Fortunately, the nice Docker slacks Uncle Brad had purchased for Matthew for his 8th grade graduation still fit him but were on the short side. So, as much as I despised sewing, I set about dropping the hem all the way out, and purchased a pair of black socks in hopes of hiding any remaining length issues. Matthew wore the shirt and tie Uncle Brad bought for his graduation as well, and he looked pretty darned good! The only issue Matthew had was that the pants felt a little tight in the crotch but not painfully so, and it wasn’t noticeable from where I was standing, so I told Matthew to not sit down in them at the dance and he should be fine.
I was wrong. About an hour after I had driven him, Jaiden, and Collin to the dance, I got a panicked text from him telling me I needed to pick him up IMMEDIATELY (yes, he used caps!). I called him on his phone to find out what was going on but it went to voicemail so I assumed he just couldn’t hear the ringtone because of the music. I got into my truck as quickly as possible and sped toward the high school, receiving multiple texts from Matthew asking where I was, and texts from Jaiden telling me I needed to get to the dance FAST. Of course the worst went through my mind, but I dismissed it pretty quickly because if harm had come to him I would have been contacted by one of the adults at the dance, not just the kids. I pulled into the parking lot to see Matthew surrounded from behind by several of his male friends – he looked angry, fists clenched, face red, barking at the guys behind him to “shut up!”. As I drew closer I noticed a sweatshirt/sweater (not one of his) tied around his waist, and his friends had their hands covering their mouths, trying to NOT look at Matthew, and appearing to attempt stifling their laughter. Matthew walked stiffly but quickly towards the truck and yanked the door open and got in before I even came to a complete stop. All he said was “GO!”. I looked up at Jaiden and Collin to try and understand what was going on but then Matthew yelled, “NOW!”.
We rode home in silence – I told Matthew I loved him, and that while I couldn’t change the events of whatever had happened that night, I was there for him if he needed me or wanted to talk about it. He didn’t cry. He didn’t swear. He just sat there still and utterly quiet. We parked the truck in the garage and headed into the house through the mudroom. When I got into the kitchen I noticed Matthew wasn’t behind me so I back tracked and saw that he had taken his pants off and was in the process of violently stuffing them in the garbage can. I asked him, “What are you doing?” to which he replied, “My pants ripped!”. I thought to myself, well, okay, we can sew them back up, right? Matthew read my mind and said, “No, Mom – my pants REALLY ripped!!” as he started pulling them back out of the garbage can to show me the damage. I wasn’t sure what kind of garment I was looking at when he turned them around to show me where it had happened – then I *gasped*. The entire backside of his slacks, running from just under the belt all the way down to his inner left thigh had split wide open!! I felt so badly for him, and vowed that in the future I would do whatever it took to make sure he would never go to another function without a decent set of clothes that fit him properly!
**Note: to listen to Jaiden tell the story, in retrospect, is really quite funny. I guess Matthew was busting out his moves on the dance floor having a really great time when he felt something give way. Since the lights were turned way down and the dance floor was packed with kids, no one really saw much, but Matthew immediately grabbed Jaiden and said “Dude! You need to stay close behind me RIGHT NOW!” to which Jaiden said something like, “That is SO wrong on SO many levels, what is your problem, man?”. Matthew told him he ripped his pants, and Jaiden thought “Oh well, a little rip, no one will ever notice, get over it and keep dancing you idiot”, but Matthew would have none of it, making Jaiden walk directly behind him off the dance floor and into one of the halls where no one could see them. Then he showed Jaiden the damage and Jaiden screamed “Oh.My.God. Your whole ass is hanging out for the world to see! You gotta call your mom, I’ll go find something you can tie around your waist to cover it up. Oh.My.GOD”. They were still talking about that night at Matthew’s funeral.
First Truck: 1985 Ford F150, affectionately known as “Frank”
Matthew desperately wanted to purchase his own vehicle, maybe because it made him feel like he would have control over whether or not there was an operating vehicle for him to learn to drive on, or maybe it’s because that’s what all teenage boys want at this point in their life. Whatever the reason, his biggest obstacle by far was his mother, because without my approval Matthew would never have been able to pay the car insurance on even the cheapest of rides (drivers with less than three years’ experience can pay upwards of $2000/year if they are carrying their own policy instead of being under a parent’s policy). So I gave Matthew my “terms” but made it very clear that even if he met all of them it did not guarantee my approval. So Matthew got to work -
Matthew had a gift for resourcefulness – he would hit something from every single angle until all the pieces that he wanted fit into place. If he couldn’t successfully “negotiate” his way to victory in a situation, he would go back to the drawing board and hit it again from every single angle, hoping that maybe from a second/third/fourth try a new approach would rear its head. And so it was with Frank – steel framed, well-balanced, heavy duty pickup truck that sucked gasoline like a desert plant after a heavy rainfall, but would protect my son’s body in a crash or rollover. Straightforward, clean, easy access engine design/layout, fantastic for a kid wanting to learn mechanics and work on his own vehicle. Plus “Frank” couldn’t go over 60 mph J and he came with the guarantee that Austin and Ryder Appling and/or Jason Ritchie would teach Matthew how to maintain the truck and help him fix the quirks that would inevitably arise over the time Matthew owned him. And Matthew had saved up enough money to buy Frank outright and so, on October 5, 2014, Matthew became the very proud owner of his very first truck! Subsequently, that marked the day when Matthew realized walking from the new farm house up to the bus stop by the old farmhouse was far too hard on his aging body J
First Costumed Halloween Band Concert:
Matthew had always been a very musically inclined kid, playing Mom’s piano almost before he could walk (unrecognizable tune to the adults, of course!), so it was no surprise when he came home from his first day at Bethany Charter School announcing he wanted to join the band and learn to play the Alto Sax. I had my doubts given his issues with asthma but I was never one to say “no” to trying new hobbies, especially if they involved music which plays an important role in young developing brains. Matthew stuck with the saxophone for the five years he was at Bethany and joined the Wind Ensemble at Silverton High School as a Freshman. With a new band director this year came new expectations and new events, the first of which was a Halloween Band Concert where students were encouraged to don costumes. Matthew went all out on his costume, and we had to drive to three Goodwill’s to find the right color green and right color purple clothes because he had his heart set on being The Joker from Batman. He even picked up a needle and a thread and took in the coat at the waist all by himself because it was “perfect” but too baggy, making it problematic for him to move around without getting caught on his sax or music stand or something else. He got the colored spray for his hair and spent several days figuring out how to get it to look like Heath Ledger’s (never mind that his hair was too short but what did I know?). Matthew asked me to show him the best way to apply all the makeup, and practiced that too. He gave it his all, that’s for sure! It took him well over an hour the night of the concert to get everything just right and insisted on doing everything himself (I did end up having to help him with the black part around his left eye because he kept resting his hand on his face when he crossed over to color it in and it left smudges because his hand had black on it from coloring his right eye area - which he felt was completely unacceptable).
This concert, on that night, was pure magic. For the first time in my life, I actually enjoyed listening to the band! And Matthew wowed everyone with his costume, which was his goal of course, and the visuals of the production (especially the black lighting) was pretty darned cool. Feedback from the audience was at a fevered pitch, the kids got a standing ovation for their performance (they deserved it) and Matthew was very pleased with his playing. Bottom line: big night for him and he was on top of the world!
First Official Halloween Party (Megan B):
Megan B’s Halloween Party had been “legendary” in Silverton for some time, but since Megan attended the “city school” (i.e., Eugene Field-Robert Frost-Mark Twain) and Matthew went to a single solitary K-8 charter school, they simply never crossed paths. But the band concert and The Joker costume put Matthew “on the map”, and he received his first invitation to attend Megan’s “legendary” party. The girls got to spend the night there, the boys, not so much. I called ahead to introduce myself to Megan’s parents and get the “lay of the land” so to speak, before “approving” Matthew’s attendance (secretly I was thrilled for Matthew because I remember all too well how utterly brutal high school can be!). I loved Megan’s parents, I knew from other moms around town that the B’s were good people, so I drove Matthew to their place that night where Mr.B was lying in wait scaring kids as they arrived (yeah, I admit it – he scared me too!). After I gave Megan’s parents my cell number and let them know Matthew would be going home and spending the night with Jaiden and Collin after their party was over, I felt a wave of peace come over me as I drove off knowing Matthew was in a good place emotionally and physically, and he was having the time of his life which, at his age, every child should be able to do, and it made me very happy!
First Love – Hannah
Technically I wouldn’t allow Matthew to “date” until he was sixteen years old. And he was fifteen (he would constantly add “…and four and a half months, Mom! GEEZ!”). But I REALLY liked this new group of friend of which Matthew had now become an integral part (I called them the “Core 8” – these were the kids that spent all night painting his Memorial Bench at the High School within hours of learning of his tragic death). I had come to know their parents as well, including Hannah’s mom, and well, I allowed the rules to be bent a little. I mean, Matthew couldn’t drive yet and neither could she, and Silverton is such a small tight knit community everybody knows everything about everyone else whether you want them to or not, so I figured I was still within pretty safe boundaries. Plus I knew Matthew was so in love with her that if I stuck to my “no dating until 16” rule, it would encourage him to sneak around behind my back and lie to me and I didn’t want that. We had come through far too much together and worked far too hard on building our relationship to that point, that I just couldn’t see the intelligence in setting him up to fail. So I gave him some leeway and then watched him like a hawk. And he did complain about it – a lot – but through the complaining, once in a while he would tell me he appreciated my bending the rules and he would do everything in his power to continue to build the trust between us. And I believed him.
So, the really funny thing about this so-called “girlfriend” is that I knew about her, checked out the home situation, eavesdropped on their nightly phone conversations (her mom didn’t allow her to have her own cell phone so that scored mega points with me!), but I had never seen a picture of her. So after a week or two I asked Matthew to show me a picture and he pulls out his iPod, slides, pokes, prods this way and that, and produces a that looked like it came off the cover of Vogue magazine. I laughed and said, “Nice try, buddy – how about a REAL picture?” He insisted it was Hannah. “Uh-huh – okay, sweetie. How about emailing me the picture?” So he did and I sent it to Amy, Auntie Cath, and Uncle David saying it was a picture of Matthew’s new girlfriend. They all laughed. Matthew was really angry, so I backed off and we sat down to have one of our infamous “talks”. He was “incensed” that I didn’t believe he could have such a pretty girlfriend, and I assured him that I thought no such thing but that the picture looked like he had just grabbed it off the internet. THEN he tells me she’s a model and it was her runway shot at a recent fashion show. I WANTED to believe him but I was struggling, maybe because I told some real whoppers when I was a teen too, so I asked if I could meet her – to make sure she was good enough for my precious baby boy, of course. “Sure thing, Mom”, and by mid-day the following day he texted me and asked if I would like to go over to Hannah’s house that night and meet both her and her mother.
Sure enough, Hannah is a model. The picture WAS real and it WAS a runway shot from a recent fashion event. Matthew and I went to Hannah’s house later that evening and we spent five hours talking (read: “we” = the Moms; the kids sat there and rolled their eyes pretty much is how I remember it!). The similarities in both Matthew’s and Hannah’s lives were uncannily similar, and I could instantly see why they were attracted to each other. And I thoroughly enjoyed Hannah’s mother as well, and once again all was right with the world.
Thanksgiving Day and Appling Football – Round 2:
Appling Thanksgiving Day Football
I was up by 6:00 a.m. to start making “Mom’s famous homemade cinnamon rolls” so they would be ready when the kids came back from playing in the Annual Appling Thanksgiving Day Football Game at the old high school. Well, Amy didn’t actually play, she was the requested “videographer” since I was the only one who owned a camcorder, and there’s nothing boys seem to enjoy more than watching their “awesome moves on the field” over and over and over again! Matthew was really nervous about playing this year, most likely because his inaugural performance last year left a lot of room for improvement. He had a very hard time holding onto the ball, earning the nickname “Slip” (short for “Slippery Fingers”), and he hated it. In all fairness though, Matthew was quite a bit smaller in 2013 and was playing against some pretty big, older farm boys so he never really had a chance to feel remotely competent. I bought Matthew an extra nice pair of football gloves at the beginning of the school year (with help from Uncle David!) so I pointed out to Matthew that not only did he have better gear this time around, but the temperatures weren’t below freezing this year (last year they played in near 20-degree cold!). That seemed to perk him up a bit as he and Amy headed out the door at 7:40 on Thanksgiving morning.
When the kids came in the door several hours later, Matthew, covered in mud, announced to me with fists clenched and arms held high “WE WON!”. To top things off, this year Matthew shed his nickname “Slip” and was dubbed “Speedy’, as he caught passes and held onto the ball, and held off or outran opposing blockers for several touchdowns. I told him I’d give him a hug but that I wasn’t “up” for wearing his mud so he went into the mudroom and stripped off his clothes, put on his Seahawks shorts, came back into the kitchen and gave me a big hug, lifting me off the ground (again). I had the briefest of moments to look up at Matthew and realize what a fine young man he was becoming and how incredibly proud of him I was. But it didn’t last long (it never did when Matthew was around). Before launching into a blow-by-blow of every move of the 2+ hour game he’d just played, he was on the hunt for where I’d hidden the fresh home-made cinnamon rolls he knew were waiting for him. I pointed to the kitchen sink where he dutifully washed his hands, then pointed to the lower warming oven. I remember not understanding half of what he was telling me about the game because he was stuffing his face with the warm cinnamon rolls, licking the sugary goo off his fingers quite loudly. I let this go (normally it drove me insane). I even let Matthew drink his milk directly from the gallon container that morning, which he never verbally asked if he could do. Instead he’d just raise his eyebrows at me quizzically, then sort of raise the milk container halfway in the air and give it a little shake with his wrist, never losing eye contact with me. If I frowned, the answer was “No!”; if I looked to the side and hesitated, he’d press me harder, get a silly grin on his face and shake the carton again; that morning I rolled my eyes and threw my right hand up in the air and to the side which meant “Green Light!”. Both the Seahawks and the Lions won their respective football games that day, the food we all worked together to prepare was great – all in all, it was a wonderful day!
Day After Thanksgiving/Christmas Preparation
Matthew always complained that we didn’t have all of our Christmas lights up long enough for him to enjoy, so he made me PROMISE him that the first thing we would do when we woke up the day after Thanksgiving was we would haul all the decorations out of storage and spend the entire day putting them up as a family while we listened to Christmas music. Matthew LOVED Christmas music (just like his momma!). He wanted to make this a “new” tradition in our small household. Given how much I *love* decorating everything I can think of for Christmas, I wholeheartedly agreed, Amy just moaned. But we all worked together and by that night we had lights and bells and lawn ornaments everywhere. Some of the light strings weren’t working (big surprise – they were pretty old!) so Matthew took it upon himself to work on the wires and the bulbs and most of his efforts were successful. Matthew got the honors of turning it all on since it was his tradition to start and after he flipped the switch, he started singing with whatever Christmas carol was playing at the time on the playlist. Amy and I joined in and it became another beautiful moment in time for me with my children.
Winter Break, Christmas Celebration, Swanky Wedding, and New Year’s Eve
Matthew and Amy and I continued the tradition of sitting down together and addressing, stamping, and signing Christmas cards and the letters that went with them to our friends and family. This year I added a new tradition to the process - instead of my summarizing each child’s year, Amy and Matthew were old enough to do it themselves, so I required both of them write a short paragraph about their year/ life for inclusion in the Annual Christmas Letter. I was pleasantly surprised when I was met with very little resistance to this idea!
And every year, with this one being no different, I made triple batches of sugar cookie dough and after it was properly refrigerated, we all sat down to roll it out, using our personal favorite cookie cutter shapes to make plates of Christmas cookies that would adorn our house during the season (and they usually did last for several weeks). After all the cookies were baked we’d let them sit for a day before covering the dining room table with wax paper, making all different colors of frostings, and sitting down together to decorate them in a new crazy way (Matthew was the most creative of the three of us). We had Christmas music playing in the background, scented Christmas candles burning, and the three of us sat and worked on them until we were all done. Then Matthew would take pictures of all the cookies to show his friends and I would take pictures of them for posterity. We never missed a year doing this together.
Christmas Eve we made the trek to our little country church in Beavercreek where I started attending when I was pregnant with Amy in 1995. Beavercreek United Church of Christ is the church my children grew up in and quickly became an integral part of that community so attending service was like having a big family reunion. We always loved the candlelight service done there every year, and this year was even more special because Amy & Matthew were bringing in the Christ light to light the candles on the altar.
Christmas Day came, and I think it was the first time since the kids were born that I was allowed to sleep past 8:00 a.m. (which was a good thing as it was standard for me to stay up most of the night wrapping and placing packages under the tree in the years prior to 2013). The presents were sparse but the love was overflowing, which is really what Christmas is supposed to be about anyways. Matthew got the game he “just HAD to have” called Cards Against Humanity, a gift from his big sister and we spent the day playing it. Here are some of the words I would use to describe my reaction to how this game is played: shock, horror, disgust, revolting, appalling, incredibly inappropriate for any level, and I’m sure there are more that just don’t come to mind right now. But what made it even worse was that my daughter was GREAT at playing the game, leaving me to wonder why I was spending my retirement money sending her to a college where she learned that kind of stuff!
We attended a swanky wedding of a dear friend of mine in the Pearl District the day after Christmas, with Matthew donning not only a brand new pair of black slacks that Mrs. Santa had given him the day earlier, but also a brand new dress shirt to match and a stylish tie. He looked very GQ, which earned him the new nickname “G-Cutie!”, and embarrassed him to no end (but secretly I think he liked it).
New Year’s Eve consisted of making good on a promise to Matthew to let him “teach” me how to play Madden 15 which Uncle David had given him as a Christmas present (Matthew’s favorite Seahawk, #25 Richard Sherman was on the cover). Matthew was patient with me, that’s for sure, but even after two hours I had made very little progress learning how to work the controls. He could see how much I was suffering so he decided we would play something EASY – Mario Carts, and he roped Amy in on the “fun”. I understood the controls; I understood the game; what I failed to understand is where the flippin’ road was that I was supposed to stay on, so this activity resulted in peels of screaming laughter coming from my kids at how truly awful I was playing this game. Needless to say, I haven’t picked up a controller since! We moved on to watching The Avengers and Batman movies until about 11:45 p.m. when we turned on the TV to watch the ball drop in Times Square hosted now by Ryan Seacrest. We poured our chilled sparkling cider in fancy wine glasses and counted down loudly to the New Year, cheering and hugging each other (Mom was allowed to do the kissing) promising that this next year was going to be a good one for all of us!
