ButterBoy

 This Christmas was hard. Harder than last. Not sure why, but I just was down. It all started with the moment I got out the stockings to hang and saw Buster's. I didn't want to do this. I didn't want to do any of it. Could we just skip it this year? How was I supposed to create holiday magic and cheer with our normal traditions, and presents, without any cheer in my heart. I really struggled, but I made it through, and in spite of the terrible feelings of loss and grief I was having leading up to Christmas, Christmas itself turned out to be surprisingly lovely. Still it felt like the grief of the holidays brought a wave the size of a tsunami that needed some clean up after the fact.  Going into January I was still feeling it. It ebbed and flowed, but then February came, and that's the month before the crash happened, and all these memories of the February of 2024 came flooding back into my mind. One particular day, Jaron and I had scheduled a ceiling date with the Wilco...

                                                    When we arrived in Switzerland everything was so astonishingly beautiful, orderly, and pleasing to the eye. Every neatly piled stack of wood, every smooth, symmetrical tunnel, every tidy chalet made me think of Buster.  In Italy, there weren't as many things to remind us of him, but in Switzerland, this place of patterns, symmetry, order, beautiful crystal blue lakes, and mountain hikes- it practically screamed "Come Buster! Come". He would have loved to be there.  I had a few good cries on the daily missing him, but one day I felt him really close.  On this day we were on a quest to find a good swimming spot.  We had looked one up on google, but couldn't find any parking. We had circled and circled and finally decided we would first drive down to the swim spot to...

 In February of 2024 I stepped out of character and canceled my week full of plans, including teaching my project based learning class with Andrea, to take advantage of a one week stay with my family at my neighbors time share at Otter Crest on the Oregon Coast. It ended up being the last trip our family would take together before we would lose our Buster boy.  One year later, my neighbor offered the use of her inn at Otter Crest yet again.  I decided once again to say yes. It was a very bittersweet trip. It was really epic in some ways- there was a HUGE storm, which made watching the titanic waves crashing on the shore so exciting. We lost power for an evening, and got the last open restaurant in town before it went out (best fish and chips we've ever had).  But one night- I just didn't feel much up for a game or movie night, because I just missed Buster. We watched his funeral together and it was very sweet.  On the way home from that trip, as I usually do on ...

  Impact statement                                                                                                       Olivia Brown In the last year, I have considered driving to Chase Jones's home dozens of times. I have wanted to ask him questions. I have wondered what is he like and what does he feel? Is he remorseful? Or does he just regret his choice on March 19th for its costs on himself?  For the rest of my life, I will not know how to answer when someone asks me how many siblings I have. I will never play fiddle songs with my brother again, or bike around the neighborhood with him, or wash dishes while he loads them into the dishwasher. For the rest of my mom’s life, she will mourn the boy she can no longer raise and...

 Last Friday, the long anticipated, long awaited day of Chase Daniel Jones' sentencing took place.  Everyone of our kids came, accept for Nora, who Cat Stabio lovingly came and picked up for me and entertained all day.  Kelly, Jared, and Brig who had come for Easter and the trial were also there. Momma Debbie, Chelice, Amber, Tia, and Aly flew in for it.  Annette, Scott, and Suzie were there waiting to give us hugs extra early as we walked in. Meg and Brad Singley came too, as did my dear friend Linda Sterling. I know many others zoomed in and were supporting from afar. It was so good to have them there.  Abe and his family were there, and the Wilcoxon's with all of their children. It was a court room filled with love and support.   As I walked in the courtroom I felt a sense of nervousness, and that grew and grew until I began to have a little shortness of breath.  I felt hot. My pencil skirt felt tight, and I just felt like I could hardly breath...

  Honorable Judge, The actions of Chase Daniel Jones have greatly impacted mine and my family's life. Since he committed this crime, I feel like I lost not only Buster, but myself. I used to be a reliable, active participant who showed up with a willing heart and cheery disposition in my various communities that I was a part of, now what I have to offer feels like an empty shell of a person, who has no bandwidth to spare.  I have had trouble sleeping since the crash, often being woken up by the sound of racers in the valley, which brings immense feelings of anger and pain to the forefront and makes it hard to fall back asleep.  My view of the vulnerability of life and anxiety for my children’s welfare has gone up ten fold. When my teenagers say goodbye and drive away, I worry every time now that they might get hit like Buster, Eloise, Matilda, and Andrea did.  When they have been driving somewhere and call my phone, a part of me wonders if this is the moment where th...