Jessica’s BRAVE Story

I often feel the strong pull to write.  I want to share more of my story about losing Nick and the hope I have found. My hope is that this gets shared far and wide and reaches hurting Moms, Dads, and families who read it. 

October 2nd, 2020, was the day my life changed forever.

I came home from my new job; it was my first day alone in my new role. I had felt a little off all day and decided to lie down, I was awakened by my dogs barking at the window, so I looked out to see a state trooper’s vehicle parked in front of my home. I wrangled the dogs and answered the door as I invited the officer in. He asked me if I knew a Nicholas Caron, to which I replied, “Yes, that is my oldest son.”  I’m sure I said it with a tone of “What did he do?!”  He asked if I was alone, and I told him no, that my twins were downstairs in their room. Then he looked at me, and I will never forget the look in his deep blue eyes, and said, “Mam, there is no easy way to say this, your son was in a car accident today, and he did not survive.”

I remember yelling to Ben and Brayden, “Nick died!” and could hear their screams and cries - they called their Dad to come immediately back to my house. He had just stopped by 30 minutes before to share the news of closing on his home that afternoon; he was at Walmart, where Nick worked, looking for him to share the news.  Nick had gotten on the interstate that day when we thought he was at work and never made it home. 

Nicholas Caron

In the following hours, I made phone calls to my family and friends and thankfully had all of them come immediately to my side. I remember the first evening just wanting to take care of all the guests who were now in my home. My heart is to serve people, and I was so uncomfortable being the one in need this time. I offered drinks and food and walked around like a zombie, not knowing what would happen next.  I will never forget the feeling of thinking he would come through that door the first night and many thereafter.  He left his bed unmade, his dirty clothes on the floor, and his computer left on. At first, we simply closed the door.

The first week was spent surrounded by family and making arrangements for services. His Dad and I picked out his clothes, looked through pictures, and met with the funeral home.  We held his service the following Saturday, Oct. 10th, and I returned to work Monday, Oct 12th. I could not be more thankful that Nick’s Dad and I had and still have the relationship we do- this allowed him to stay at my house with our boys and support each other. 

As a new week began, services were over, the family was back home, and I was back to work. I made a decision- one that I actually made in the first minutes after hearing the news of his death- that my boys would need their Mom. I needed to be ok because I had three living children, a husband, friends, and family that needed me. I knew my living children could not feel like the light went out in Mom on the day we lost Nick. I had no idea what my journey would really look like. 

My return to work was met with support that quickly dissipated. It went from taking the time you need to you take too much time.  My life went from being able to work on my grief to being told my grief would wreck my marriage.  I was labeled too sad, in a rut, different, and told over and again that my marriage would not survive and my life would never look the same. Of course, I was different. I was now living a life that was missing one of my boys. I was forced to grieve that I would never see him graduate the Air Force basic training like he was supposed to, as my dear friends had boys going off to do the same. 

I have children who were forever changed by the loss of their brother- suffering from anxiety, anger, and sadness, which came out in belly aches, headaches, and outbursts. In these moments, instead of being able to feel what I needed to feel, I began to fight, fight for a life that would never look the same again. I felt as though I barely missed a beat- I worked, cooked, cleaned, and hosted parties for my children and my friends, and still, I was being made to feel like I wasn’t doing it right and I wasn’t doing enough. 

This part of my journey is not ok, and I don’t want anyone else to ever feel this way. 

My advice is not to over-function at the expense of yourself, lean into those who are willing to help, be specific in requesting what you need, and not spend your remaining energy trying to fix or hold together relationships that were injured by your loss.

This whole story brings me to where I am today.  I want other Moms and families to know there is hope for a new life. One that looks so different, but it will carry memories of your loved one forever.  Every day, it is a choice to wake up and try to live our lives the best way we can. 

On my most challenging days, I think of Nick and imagine him looking down on me, and I question what he would want for my life. Does he want me to sit in bed all day? Does he want me so anxious over what might happen to his brothers that none of us get to live a life, or would he want us to live a life that honors him and who he was? I let my loss propel me to what I most wanted my life to look like. It pointed out what things would now be non-negotiable to me.

I miss Nick so much that it takes my breath away, and there are days I can’t look at his pictures, and I allow myself those moments.  There are other days I judge myself.  Am I doing too well, thinking I am a terrible mother because I am here functioning?  I can promise you, you can worry until you are physically sick. You can wrap your other children in a bubble. I could have stopped my two other older boys, Ben and Brayden from ever driving- and TRUST ME, there are times I wanted to and still do.  I never ever thought I could let them leave my driveway, but at the end of the day, NO AMOUNT OF WORRY is going to stop bad things from happening.  We can try to control every outcome, and spend the time and energy trying to destroy us and the ones we love the most. All I have control over is being the best Mom I can be for my boys each day. I show up for them, I make sure they see and feel love, and I try my best to make sure I wake up tomorrow, and one of them isn’t here that I don’t have regrets. 

“I want other moms and families to know there is hope for a new life. One that looks so different, but it will carry memories of your loved one forever.”

I would never judge a Mom for her grief journey, and I really need to stop judging myself, but I want others to know it’s okay to be ok, and it’s okay to not be ok. Feel what you need to feel when the waves come, and on the days you can breathe again, even for a minute, find joy in that!   Start looking at the sunrise and sunset as opportunities for your loved one to shine down on you. Find hope in a red bird chirping on your fence. The little moments and signs are there if you want to find them.   I encourage you to find joy again, sweet Momma, to live out a beautiful legacy in honor of your child, and to do the hard work. It doesn’t matter if it’s been 2 days or 10 years since your child became an angel; reach out for support. There is no expiration date on our grief. I wish healing for each and every one of us on this journey. 

With all my love, 

Jessica

“I am BRAVE because...

I wake up every day and try to find and share joy, even though a piece of my heart lives in heaven.”