💙We went to General Conference.
A worldwide broadcast for our church.
We knew that Elder Andersen was going to be talking about our family.
I got to choose the photos he shared (Thank goodness!)
I knew he would reference Coleman’s funeral talk.

Then he said those words.
The words that Jason told Coleman every night since the day he was born.
“Dad loves you,
Heavenly Father loves you,
and you’re a good boy.”

My breath caught for just a moment.
I haven’t heard those words for 143 days.

I was fine at the Conference Center.
Filled with love and joy and happiness that millions more people have the chance to know Jason because of our story told there.

As we went to bed that night, Coleman started to cry.
He doesn’t do that often.
“I just miss Dad,” he said as the tears flowed for both of us.“
I do, too. Let’s cry together,” I said.

It was a hard few days for me after that. I kept thinking of those words that they told each other each day. It became a game as Coleman grew older. Who could say it first.

Coleman would burst into our room in the mornings and call out as quickly as he could, “Cole loves you, Heavenly Father loves you and you’re a good boy, counts as night time!!” Jason would try to beat him to it and if he was too late, would cry, “Awww, you got me!”

I will never hear those words again.

I feel like I am a good mom and I’m doing this single mother thing pretty well.

But there are things that I cannot replace.
There are things that will always be missing.
There are things I cannot fix.

I tried saying the words to Coleman after Jason died - but it felt strange and not right.
It was their thing.
Their ritual.
Their tradition.
Like watching Cowboys games together.
Cheering side-by-side in the family room.
It was between father and son.

There are things I cannot replace.
This week I am mourning the loss of 12 words that I will never hear again between the boys I love.

I am grateful, however, that I have this memory to mourn. Grateful that Jason was this kind of dad.✊🏻💙