This day marks 2 years since the passing of our Buster boy, and our dear friends Tilly, Eloise, and Andrea. Andrea was on my mind especially this year. Rivka and I went down to visit her grave, and took flowers to her siblings and mom. Visiting with Robin was such a treat. We even got to meet Andrea's Grandma Backstein who she spoke so lovingly about. I could feel in their joyful faces, Andreas sweet, and humorous soul. It was so good to sit and drink that up, when I've been missing it so terribly. It was so good to be with Rivka too. We listened to beautiful music on the way home, talked about Andrea, talked about grief, hope, and all the things. I'm very blessed to have her in my corner.
The days leading up to March 19th proved to be very difficult, much more difficult in fact than the actual anniversary. Starting the Friday before the crash, Jaron and I, along with the Wilcoxon's and Robinaughs went to the temple and did sealings. This is the third year in a row now that we have done sealings the Friday before the crash. In our sealing session Jaron and I's very first name was a Boyd. We both felt the spirit so strongly, and felt like it was not coincidental. Then later there was a Lou Lou and a Matilda. There was no Andrea, but the sealer himself was from Port Angeles, so it still felt like she was represented somehow. I had such peaceful good feelings in the temple, and felt so grateful to be sealed together forever with Jaron.
That Friday before the crash just feels like where the count down begins. I remember so well all the things. That morning we were on a filed trip at the pacific science center with Christy Casperson. Ruby, and Nora were there too. Buster left his orange hat in the theater and was so upset about it, so we went back to get it. I'm so glad we did.
That evening Liv drove Buster up to his rehearsal at Tracy's studio. That will forever remain a cherished memory for her. She says that Buster just listened to her describe some of the hard things she was going through, and had a very mature attitude. She ended up spending about 5 hours with him, and cherished every minute. The next day was Saturday. That's when we invited a bunch of kids over to play games in the woods. Some of the dad's stayed and played too. It was a insanely gorgeous day! Warm, and springy.
I don't remember Saturday night, but Sunday, due to a relief society activity, Jaron and Chace took all the kids up to what would be Eloise and Buster's last recital on earth. They both, as I heard later, played magnificently.
That next monday was our very last PBL class with Buster and Eloise. We were working on the roof. Buster and Eloise went for a run after PBL in the gorgeous sunny weather. I saw them as I was driving through my neighborhood laughing after hopping a fence. I can't remmeber if Buster was chacing Lou, or Lou was chacing Buster, but they looked like they were having a grand time. That's the last memory I have of Eloise. Watching her energetically chase Buster with a laugh.
That monday evening we had the Grahams over. It really felt like summer, so we grilled burgers and ate outside. We then came in for games and played secret hitler late into the night. Buster begged to play one more, because he hadn't had a chance to win yet. He couldn't win, because he couldn't lie.
Then tuesday came. The day of the crash. On tuesday of this week, the whole day came back to me minute by minute starting in the morning. I had stayed up late monday night feeling it. Crying. Looking at pictures. Not wanting tuesday to come. Almost as if I could reverse it all somehow. In the morning I felt even worse. Jaron and I cried in bed together and talked, and held each other close. All the while my mind was thinking, "This time two years ago is when Buster woke up, this time two years ago is when I found him reading his scriptures, playing his violin, then toasting a bagel. At about this time, I gave him his last and my last hug. Then at this time I drove him to school. At this time it dawned on us we were early, and he said his last words to me "Mom, we are early, what should I do?" I said "I don't know buddy, I guess you can just go to class". He turned and walked away and said "Bye mom". I watched him walk. It felt like time stood still. I don't remember anyone else in the school but him and I. Why didn't I tell him just to stay by me a minute longer. Why not hug again? Why not talk some more? Oh- the things we can't change, and even if we could, would it have made a difference?
Well needless to say my mind replayed everything that happened that day. . . all day long on Tuesday, March 17th, 2026. I remembered the good things and ALL the bad things. It was tormenting. On this day I wrote the following email to my siblings:
Hi my siblings and Momma-
Written Tuesday March 17, 2026, but sent today. I debated sharing this with all of you, because it is so very special to me. I thought perhaps I should hold it close, but then I remembered the words our wise sister said once "What happens to one of us, happens to all of us" and I wanted to share it with you, because I know Dad is and will do the same for you when you need him most.
-I wanted to share a special experience I had today with all of you. I do believe Dad visited me today. It's been a bit rough over here the last few days as we have been recalling the days leading up to the crash. Our minds conjure up all the details before and after the crash. It's weird and slightly unnerving how our bodies sort of keep the score like that. Today was Tuesday, and I know it's not the 19th, but something about Tuesday- being the day the crash actually happened, brought all the things up for me. I pretty much hate Tuesdays now. Anyway, I woke up early in the morning and just felt so sad. I re-read 2 Nephi 31 this morning, which is what I read and studied with my kids the morning of the crash- just hours before it happened. I thought of where Buster was when I woke up, how he had already been up reading his scriptures, and had practiced violin. I thought about the last hug I gave him in the kitchen that morning where I told him I was impressed and proud of him, as he was perfectly spreading cream cheese on his bagel. I had to hug him from behind, because he was being so careful, so he didn't hug me back. Anyway, each and every minute today- the memory of that day came back in full clarity. It was painful, and honestly I don't know where this came from, but I just wanted Dad. It wasn't even words I spoke, just a thought, a silent cry that I needed my Dad today.
I went through the motions of my day, going to co-op. Someone came up and asked how I was and I burst into tears. And I didn't want to burst into tears. I wanted to be normal and say "Great". I was slightly embarrassed that I couldn't control my emotions.
In the free pile at the co-op there was a book called "Limu the Turtle". I have a video of Buster reading that book to Nora in his best Hawaiian pidgin, which of course, you guessed it, brought on more tears. I made it through co-op, but when I pulled up to Ruby's violin lesson I couldn't go in. I was a serious mess. I told Ruby I needed to stay in the car for her lesson. It was nice to have the space to cry freely, and to pray to heavenly father for peace and comfort. When Ruby got back in the car, I couldn't hardly hear the words she was saying for the 45 minute drive home. I was just spaced out.
After getting home I got on running clothes and went for a run in the rain. It was pretty cloudy, which actually felt good, because if it were sunny that might have been even harder somehow. I ran a few miles and then one more and found myself at the crash site. I wanted to sit awhile, but 5:00 traffic was creating a feeling like I was on stage with my grief at the crash site, so I found a little spot tucked away behind a low hanging cedar tree branch, and sat there silently staring out at the road. Imagining that day. Willing myself to rewind it somehow. I felt devastated all over again. I began to cry. I plugged in my airpods and turned on "It is well with my soul" by the Tab choir, it's what I play when "It's not well with my soul". Anyway, I was kind of still feeling watched by cars, so I tucked in real tight, bowed my head, and had my hands hiding my face, when somewhere in my peripheral vision I noticed movement. I could tell someone was walking toward me. I thought "Oh great", can't I just be left alone. Who is coming to talk to me"? Sometimes, it is sweet when strangers approach me there, but I wasn't in the mood right at this moment. So, I looked up to my right, but no one was there. It was so strange, I could have sworn I saw someone. I put my head back down, cupped the bill of my hat with my hands to hide my face again, and again, saw movement of some kind to the right in my peripheral vision. I looked up and again saw no one. Then, all of the sudden the most warm feeling flushed over me, and I felt someone sat down right next to me in the rain. The spirit bore witness to me that it was dad. I knew with all my heart he was there with me. I started sobbing, and I didn't want to move or leave. I stayed there in the pouring rain for about another 20 minutes, until I felt ready to run back home. I didn't talk to him, but I didn't need to. I do believe he heard my heart, and I know he was blessing me somehow, even strengthening me.
I know this experience was real, because I have learned these thoughts about our loved ones, that just come out of the blue, are not our own doing, but God's. I know we are blessed literally with the ministering of angels through our baptismal covenant.
I called Liv and told her about my experience, and she said it sounded very similar to an experience she had in the hospital after her bike crash, with Buster.
I'm so grateful Dad is so aware of us. I know he is going to be looking for ways to bless us still with his priesthood power. I know Buster will too, and our grandparents. That knowledge of the other side of the veil is becoming more and more real to me every passing day. That Tuesday was the hardest day for me. March 19th was a breeze after that. I didn't even cry. I just felt hope all day long.
There is much rejoicing to be had in our future, my precious family. Much rejoicing still to be had, and joyous reunions to anticipate. It won't be long!
Love,
Jess
In spite of the amazing experience I had with my Dad, I still felt so sad. In fact my sadness was creating a bit of a chest pain. I felt a shortness of breath. I almost felt like I was having a heart attack or something. That evening we went up to Chace's, where he and I received blessings. President Whitaker was there too. It dawned on me today, that that is exactly what I was doing two years ago on Tuesday as well- receiving a blessing from my Uncle Scott, surrounded by three different bishops (Bishop Mccullen from the garrison creek ward, Bishop Baker, from the May Creek Ward, Bishop Graham who used to be my bishop, Br. Bigelow, who also used to be my bishop, and Jaron, my husband and current bishop).
I felt peace come into my heart after that blessings. After visiting with President Whitaker, Chace, Rivka, and Jaron, we left and went to Abe's house to give him a big hug.
On the evening of the 18th, my family and I went up to north bend to spend the night and have some time just as a family. It was fabulous to be together. We face timed Liv, who we missed dearly. We read aloud memories and journal entries of Busters and felt him close. I stayed up late with Warner singing and playing guitar. I loved it.
In the morning, Jaron and I stood on a bridge overlooking the roaring Snoqualmie river and saw a humming bird. A humming bird! In the middle of this rainy, cold, flowerless, wintery scene. It's busying about energy reminded us of Buster.
We showered, napped, read, did come follow me, sang, and then the Wilcoxon's arrived. Our sweet friends from our homeschool community and other friends from church collaborated on the most thoughtful gift, which included massages for each of us, as well as dinner for all three of our families that evening. We felt thoroughly spoiled. Annette and Scott also stocked their house with chocolates and flowers. It felt so good to be all together. We spent about an hour of our night reading from Buster, Tilly, Andrea, and Eloise's journals. It was so hard, and yet so beautiful.
I read recently that joy isn't complete without sadness. That's how I would describe our night. Joyful to say their names, and celebrate who they were and are. Joyful to be in this together, but so incredibly sad to be without them.
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