I had dinner at Mom and Dad's tonight. They were having a small dinner party for their neighbors' birthdays. As Mom always does when she is entertaining, she prepared a beautiful meal and table. She used their dining room. As we were serving ourselves in the kitchen and making our way into the dining room, it occurred to me that this was the first time I was eating in there since my last dinner with Mike (and his last dinner) the Sunday before his wreck. It shocked me so much that I said it out loud, without knowing the ramifications of that statement. Mom and Dad had not eaten in there, either. I did not know that. I thought it was just me. Needless to say, there were a few moments of holding our breathes and shedding a few tears. I blurted out that fact without thinking, right in front of their guests. Thankfully, their neighbors are more than just neighbors, they are friends. They have been wonderfully supportive to our family. They were understanding.
I have already anticipated other "firsts" without Mike, like Thanksgiving and Christmas. Those are the obvious that we all know will be difficult. But the everyday, or lesser events are no longer just that. They are everyday without Mike. No, we did not see each other everyday, but at least we were in the world together. I cannot express how crazy, ridiculous, frustrating, maddening, and incomprehensibly hard this is. So much so that at times I am numb. There are times I want so much to just grab and hold onto Laura or Hunter just because. Just because.
I am compiling more Mike memoirs for future postings. Please feel free to forward them to me at rmw4jc@yahoo.com
Love,
Rhonda
Sunday, August 30, 2009
Thursday, August 13, 2009
Tribute to Mike
As I read back over this, I realize that one little tribute is hardly enough to sum up Mike and how I feel about him. However, when I wrote this, just before the Memorial Celebration, it brought smiles and happy thoughts of him. I hope you enjoy it.
Read by Rhonda, May 3, 2009, at the Mike Watson Memorial Celebration.
As most who know me and my husband can certainly attest to this, I do not like to dress up. I like to be comfortable. Given my chosen profession of a Paramedic and nurse, I have worn a uniform for years. When I am off work, I like to be comfortable. Heels were created by the devil as far as I am concerned. My husband actually thinks I am crazy if I wear heels or dress up excessively in lieu of comfort. In fact the older I have gotten, the less I have cared about dressing up, make up or the perfect hairstyle. I was never too keen on men who preferred the dress up type of girl. But today is a little different.
Over the years, I would once in a while wear a cute outfit, do my hair really well or put on a little make up to look, well, pretty. Most of the time I was so ready to go home, change and take a shower. There were few exceptions. In my brother’s presence was one of them. He would actually tell me I looked cute or pretty or I should dress up more often. Maybe it was because Mike was a flirt and family was no exception.
Dad’s parents used to give us money for Christmas. One year when I was about 8, I found a beautiful rabbit fur coat I so desperately wanted. It was expensive and more than a little girl who is going to quickly outgrow should have for Christmas. My brother knew how badly I wanted it so he gave his Christmas money to mom and dad to use with mine so I could have that fur coat. He liked his little sister to look pretty. And he thought she was.
Few people have ever made me feel pretty. Not because they have not tried. It just has not been a big focus in my life. So as I stand here today in my pretty, albeit, loud dress, I am feeling and looking pretty for Mike. He liked me that way. It was special to him. If you see me dressed up or wearing my “Mike mascara,” it will be in some way in honor to Mike. And as a girl if you have ever been hugged, kissed, or loved by my brother, you are pretty. He loved all girls. I am so lucky and blessed that he flirted with me first
Read by Rhonda, May 3, 2009, at the Mike Watson Memorial Celebration.
As most who know me and my husband can certainly attest to this, I do not like to dress up. I like to be comfortable. Given my chosen profession of a Paramedic and nurse, I have worn a uniform for years. When I am off work, I like to be comfortable. Heels were created by the devil as far as I am concerned. My husband actually thinks I am crazy if I wear heels or dress up excessively in lieu of comfort. In fact the older I have gotten, the less I have cared about dressing up, make up or the perfect hairstyle. I was never too keen on men who preferred the dress up type of girl. But today is a little different.
Over the years, I would once in a while wear a cute outfit, do my hair really well or put on a little make up to look, well, pretty. Most of the time I was so ready to go home, change and take a shower. There were few exceptions. In my brother’s presence was one of them. He would actually tell me I looked cute or pretty or I should dress up more often. Maybe it was because Mike was a flirt and family was no exception.
Dad’s parents used to give us money for Christmas. One year when I was about 8, I found a beautiful rabbit fur coat I so desperately wanted. It was expensive and more than a little girl who is going to quickly outgrow should have for Christmas. My brother knew how badly I wanted it so he gave his Christmas money to mom and dad to use with mine so I could have that fur coat. He liked his little sister to look pretty. And he thought she was.
Few people have ever made me feel pretty. Not because they have not tried. It just has not been a big focus in my life. So as I stand here today in my pretty, albeit, loud dress, I am feeling and looking pretty for Mike. He liked me that way. It was special to him. If you see me dressed up or wearing my “Mike mascara,” it will be in some way in honor to Mike. And as a girl if you have ever been hugged, kissed, or loved by my brother, you are pretty. He loved all girls. I am so lucky and blessed that he flirted with me first
Sunday, August 2, 2009
A day in ICU
I had reached a point of mental, physical, and emotional exhaustion, a breaking point. God sent me to the ICU... Intensive Christ Uplifting. I went to the Deeper Still Conference by Beth Moore. She was accompanied by Kay Aurthur and Priscilla Shirer. There were many points to this conference. So many women there, and everywhere, have "issues" and so much to deal with. But the focus of this conference was not about "our issues." It was about living in the power of the living spirit of our Lord and Saviour and uplifting Christ during all of our life experiences. I cried, I laughed, I sang, I celebrated. I felt intense emotion and healing. A day of Intensive Christ Uplifting will handle any ailment or issue. It may not change our ailments but is changes our response to them. The beauty of all of it was uplifting Christ no matter what our circumstances and seeing over 11,000 women do the same thing. Laura, her sister Heather, and her mother were there, also. I also shared the experience with 2 wonderful godly friends, women with their own stories and struggles.
My point is that we all have issues and life struggles. Our grief has been a real, life-changing challenge. Whatever your challenge, spend a day in ICU, Intensive Christ Uplifing. When you uplift Christ, He CARRIES you and keeps you out of a constant state of emergency.
Please, don't hesitate to post your Mike memories here or email them to me at rmw4jc@yahoo.com.
Love,
Rhonda
My point is that we all have issues and life struggles. Our grief has been a real, life-changing challenge. Whatever your challenge, spend a day in ICU, Intensive Christ Uplifing. When you uplift Christ, He CARRIES you and keeps you out of a constant state of emergency.
Please, don't hesitate to post your Mike memories here or email them to me at rmw4jc@yahoo.com.
Love,
Rhonda
Sunday, July 26, 2009
In the coming weeks, I will be posting what some of us read at Mike's memorial celebration. I have, personally, wanted to reflect on those and give others the same opportunity. In the meantime, it seems we each are dealing with our ups and downs. Thankfully, not all at the same time.
If any of you have stories you would like to share, please feel free to post them here, or email them to me. We need to reflect as we move on.
I have been told by so many who have experienced grief that "you will have good days and bad days. " And that it "will hit you for no reason." I have been especially emotional the past 2 days, without any real reason. I guess that is what everyone has meant.
So I have no words of wisdom or eloquence, right now. Just a sad, broken heart, once again.
With that, I ask for continued prayer and uplifting for the whole Mike Watson, Jr family. It seems we are beginning yet another stage in life without him. Everyday is a new stage. That, to put it plain and simply....sucks. Forgive my term. I just don't know how else to say it and sometimes sugar-coating does not help.
Do know that the Lord remains our strength and redeemer. I have felt His presence and been so far away from it at the same time. I guess, at this moment, He seems rather far. I don't remember moving and I know He has not left. I just don't feel a lot right now, except sadness, numbness and sheer exhaustion.
My email is rmw4jc@yahoo.com.
Prayerfully,
Rhonda
If any of you have stories you would like to share, please feel free to post them here, or email them to me. We need to reflect as we move on.
I have been told by so many who have experienced grief that "you will have good days and bad days. " And that it "will hit you for no reason." I have been especially emotional the past 2 days, without any real reason. I guess that is what everyone has meant.
So I have no words of wisdom or eloquence, right now. Just a sad, broken heart, once again.
With that, I ask for continued prayer and uplifting for the whole Mike Watson, Jr family. It seems we are beginning yet another stage in life without him. Everyday is a new stage. That, to put it plain and simply....sucks. Forgive my term. I just don't know how else to say it and sometimes sugar-coating does not help.
Do know that the Lord remains our strength and redeemer. I have felt His presence and been so far away from it at the same time. I guess, at this moment, He seems rather far. I don't remember moving and I know He has not left. I just don't feel a lot right now, except sadness, numbness and sheer exhaustion.
My email is rmw4jc@yahoo.com.
Prayerfully,
Rhonda
Tuesday, July 7, 2009
The "G" Theme
It seems to be that during our lives we each experience a prevailing theme, emotion or cirmcumstance. It can vary from time to time. As I look over the past few months I have experienced overwhelming Grief. In the midst of the Grief, I have experienced God's amazing Grace and Goodness. I don't know what other experience I would have to go through to have this Grace. It is a Gift from God. Now I am not saying I am happy about Mike being gone. I miss him terribly and want so much to see him and touch him. After all, it was just a few months ago that I last talked to him. Not much time in the big scheme of things. Yet eternity considering I have to wait till eternity to see him again.
I wonder if this is from whence the phrase "Good Grief" hailed. It seems like an oxymoron. I don't like Grief. It hurts. I dominates. It aches. But God's Grace is Greater and Good. We know about the valleys we have to go through to stand on the mountain of God. I think that is part of what my Grief has been about. That valley is low and long. But that mountain is high and mighty. God's Grace is a Gift of His Goodness through which His Glory is revealed.
As I read back over this writing, only one "negative G theme" is present. But multiple "positive G" themes" are present. God is Good. If you have any doubt, re-read my themes. Whatever your valley, God's Grace and Goodness will bring you out of it to stand with Him on that mountain of Glory.
Only God can make me sing praises while in a valley. Nothing else I have tried has such an effect. Thank you, God, for your Glorious Grace!
I wonder if this is from whence the phrase "Good Grief" hailed. It seems like an oxymoron. I don't like Grief. It hurts. I dominates. It aches. But God's Grace is Greater and Good. We know about the valleys we have to go through to stand on the mountain of God. I think that is part of what my Grief has been about. That valley is low and long. But that mountain is high and mighty. God's Grace is a Gift of His Goodness through which His Glory is revealed.
As I read back over this writing, only one "negative G theme" is present. But multiple "positive G" themes" are present. God is Good. If you have any doubt, re-read my themes. Whatever your valley, God's Grace and Goodness will bring you out of it to stand with Him on that mountain of Glory.
Only God can make me sing praises while in a valley. Nothing else I have tried has such an effect. Thank you, God, for your Glorious Grace!
Thursday, June 18, 2009
Siblings
Back in February, my little friends, Marlea, 5, and Anna, 14 months, lost their sister, Kira, 3, to a sudden illness. Marlea, the big sister, has been lost without her playmate and Anna, has found herself in a new roll as "the second child." I was priviledged to watch these three girls play together, interact, develop rolls and responsibilities toward each other and to others. They were quite the trio, each seemingly incomplete without the other. Now that Kira is in heaven, the girls do feel incomplete. Are they now 2 sisters or still part of that trio? Do they play differently because Kira is not there or do they keep their ways? Will they act and develop differently toward the world because Kira is not there to learn from?
I know I learned so much from being a little sister with a big brother and it plays (present tense) a huge roll in who I am. While Mike and I no longer "played" together like we did when we were kids, we played off of each other in the rolls we learned growing up together. I hurt for my little friends as they seek to become new people without their sister.
I don't want a new roll in life without my brother. I don't want Marlea and Anna to be without Kira. I liked so much who we all were when we were complete.
Shortly after Mike died, I had a sudden, vivd image of him grabbing up Kira and holding her up high in the air, over his head. The pair were laughing with thier big grins, in total delight of one another. They never had the chance to meet here. They are playing together in heaven.
I don't like them not being here. I am glad they have each other up there.
I don't mind that new roll, so much. I get to share my big brother with that little girl. I hope, someday, the girls left behind, will find comfort in that thought.
I know I learned so much from being a little sister with a big brother and it plays (present tense) a huge roll in who I am. While Mike and I no longer "played" together like we did when we were kids, we played off of each other in the rolls we learned growing up together. I hurt for my little friends as they seek to become new people without their sister.
I don't want a new roll in life without my brother. I don't want Marlea and Anna to be without Kira. I liked so much who we all were when we were complete.
Shortly after Mike died, I had a sudden, vivd image of him grabbing up Kira and holding her up high in the air, over his head. The pair were laughing with thier big grins, in total delight of one another. They never had the chance to meet here. They are playing together in heaven.
I don't like them not being here. I am glad they have each other up there.
I don't mind that new roll, so much. I get to share my big brother with that little girl. I hope, someday, the girls left behind, will find comfort in that thought.
Thursday, June 11, 2009
Reflections
So, after 2 months, I was finally able to view the picture video created to play during Mike's visitation in April. Needless to say, I shed a lot of tears. I have always had a difficult time with photos. Even throughout my wonderful travels, I have been unable and uncommitted to taking numerous pictures. I recently came to the conclusion that pictures do not do memories justice. There is just no way to re-create the real thing on a flat piece of paper.
One day, also recently, I saw my face in the mirror. A new face. A different face. One I have not been familiar with. One with the shadow of my brother. One that can't get passed the nose on the end of my own face long enough to see the blessings I have been missing. I have only seen lost, sad, and hurt.
Dad was born at Duke Hospital in 1945. He was given the name "Baby Ronald" by the staff, as he was put up for adoption. Later, when he was adopted, he was named Michael Ronald Watson.
My brother is Michael Ronald Watson, Jr. My name is Rhonda Michelle Watson Wright. Mike and I were both named for our Dad. As I have seen my reflection in the mirror, not for vanity mind you, I have seen the face of generations, memories and the real thing. I am part of my brother, my family. I am the past, present, and future. I want Mike to be in our present but all I have seen in the mirror is the lack of his presence in my life. My face is sad and downtrodden. I have missed the blessing of how much of a part of my life he really is. He is my brother...my brother! What a bond! He is a God-given gift! I have missed so much of that over the past 2 months simply by not sharing his memories. Don't misread me...these memories are painful because they are not remotely as good as the real thing. But they are what I have. I have part of him.
I see him in Mom, in Dad, in Hunter, and even Laura. They say the longer a couple is together the more alike they look. Maybe it's just that they look so much like the two have become one as God intended. I don't fully understand His plan because now Laura does not have Mike, nor do we. Can you tell I am confused, hurt, broken, searching?
Fortunately, each day brings new answers and reassurance, though one day is not always better than the one before.
It is so complicated yet so simple.
I hope as I look in the mirror, I see God's grace for each day and His blessing to remember and relish in my brother's memory and life. As I look in the mirror each day, I hope to see the pilgrimage, not the pain, though one does not seem possible without the other. I hope I see who I am becoming, not who I was. I want to see Mike. I want to see the face lift given by a spirit-filled life.
Lord, hear me. Help me. Bless all who take the time to read this and reflect on Mike and our family. Bless their own families' and needs. You know their hurts, their praise, their desires. Lord, use these words to help them reflect on you as they look in the mirror. Use Mike's life through us, as a ministry to those that need to hear these words from the real, broken-hearted, loving, questioning, hurt and frustrated Christians. Lord, even if they do not know you, speak to their hearts. This is my prayer. This is the godly reflection I want.
Love,
Rhonda
One day, also recently, I saw my face in the mirror. A new face. A different face. One I have not been familiar with. One with the shadow of my brother. One that can't get passed the nose on the end of my own face long enough to see the blessings I have been missing. I have only seen lost, sad, and hurt.
Dad was born at Duke Hospital in 1945. He was given the name "Baby Ronald" by the staff, as he was put up for adoption. Later, when he was adopted, he was named Michael Ronald Watson.
My brother is Michael Ronald Watson, Jr. My name is Rhonda Michelle Watson Wright. Mike and I were both named for our Dad. As I have seen my reflection in the mirror, not for vanity mind you, I have seen the face of generations, memories and the real thing. I am part of my brother, my family. I am the past, present, and future. I want Mike to be in our present but all I have seen in the mirror is the lack of his presence in my life. My face is sad and downtrodden. I have missed the blessing of how much of a part of my life he really is. He is my brother...my brother! What a bond! He is a God-given gift! I have missed so much of that over the past 2 months simply by not sharing his memories. Don't misread me...these memories are painful because they are not remotely as good as the real thing. But they are what I have. I have part of him.
I see him in Mom, in Dad, in Hunter, and even Laura. They say the longer a couple is together the more alike they look. Maybe it's just that they look so much like the two have become one as God intended. I don't fully understand His plan because now Laura does not have Mike, nor do we. Can you tell I am confused, hurt, broken, searching?
Fortunately, each day brings new answers and reassurance, though one day is not always better than the one before.
It is so complicated yet so simple.
I hope as I look in the mirror, I see God's grace for each day and His blessing to remember and relish in my brother's memory and life. As I look in the mirror each day, I hope to see the pilgrimage, not the pain, though one does not seem possible without the other. I hope I see who I am becoming, not who I was. I want to see Mike. I want to see the face lift given by a spirit-filled life.
Lord, hear me. Help me. Bless all who take the time to read this and reflect on Mike and our family. Bless their own families' and needs. You know their hurts, their praise, their desires. Lord, use these words to help them reflect on you as they look in the mirror. Use Mike's life through us, as a ministry to those that need to hear these words from the real, broken-hearted, loving, questioning, hurt and frustrated Christians. Lord, even if they do not know you, speak to their hearts. This is my prayer. This is the godly reflection I want.
Love,
Rhonda
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