This time last year I was blissfully unaware, and perhaps you were by now too, that you were gone. Worse than that, that you'd taken your blessing with you.
I have so many things I want to say to you, scream at you, and whisper in your ear. Now, stripped of any of those options I'm left to stare at a computer screen with tears streaking down my face, letting it all out here.
When I first met you, it wasn't that great. You seemed pretty arrogant, but perhaps that was because we both worked in a strip club on it's last legs and were forced to get our money while we could. Whatever happened then, when I met you again several years later, I'd forgotten about that first time.
You brought out the best in me, while seemingly bringing out the worst in a few others.
You were my biggest supporter while I tried to get pregnant, the first to offer condolences when I thought that pregnancy was ending, and the person that's responsible for a five year old pregnancy test sealed in a dated ziploc bag.
When I got that text last year, the breath was ripped from me. I didn't cry, I couldn't, because it didn't seem real.
Driving "home" for your funeral and making that stop in Sunderland it became so real that I thought I'd hurt forever, and worse I thought that hurt would kill me. I stood in that field, on the spot where you parked your car, and I cried while sharing a drink with your memorial. It was probably one of the first times that I felt real regret, guilt, anger and pain all at once.
I'll never forget the single casket, knowing you cradled him in your arms much like you must have been when they found you in the trunk of your car.
The first couple of newspaper articles I denied what was nagging at me; there was no way. I'd almost convinced myself that there was some deranged lunatic on the loose, little did I know at the time that the supposed "lunatic" was a desperate mother suffering from crushing postpartum depression. However, as the weeks melted into months I knew... but I wish I didn't.
I'm so conflicted. I'm mad at you, there are times I HATE you, and then there are times where I can understand how you might have gotten tunnel vision and only seen stormy seas ahead.
Whatever the reason, I just want to say I wish you'd left the baby behind. In my dreams of you I always try to reason with you, even if in those dreams you're already gone. He deserved more than the eight months he got and you know it.
It's been a year, and I still can't grip it with my mind. It's like a roller coaster of grief and I waiver on opinion from one minute to the next.
No matter what, I keep coming back to the disbelief of knowing you took him with you.
I love you Andrea, but I wish I could have had a chance to help.
Was researching online and found this:
"So I know no one reading this will remember but back in March I posted about my mom's longtime friend Andrea who was found dead in the trunk of her car along with her eight month old son Brock.
Found out a few nights ago that the case was closed and deemed a murder suicide. My mom and I were talking about it and after everything she told me I was left with an uneasy feeling in my stomach...there isn't really much point in me posting this besides like I said I was left feeling really uneasy so I thought I would share.
Andrea and her son were heading a few hours north to her parents house for her birthday weekend. She had all of her baby's clothes with her and most of hers. She wasn't wearing her wedding rings. She told her parents before that she was unhappy and wanted to leave her husband. (She did that once before and ended up at her parents door after leaving her ex). It was common knowledge that she was a bit depressed, she posted a lot on facebook how she was really tired.
Okay so her husbands side of the story. He says that him and a friend followed her to the entrance of the highway, where they both pulled over so he could take their dog because it was acting up for her (a dog that was supposedly living with his grandparents for the last year). He took the dog and that was the last time he saw them.
No fingerprints were found in or around the trunk. Andrea and Brock were both found dead with *no signs of trauma* but her nose was broken and she had a cut on her lip. Cause of death? Hypothermia.
You read that right. Hypothermia. So, she commited suicide and murdered her son by hypothermia.
What do I think? I think it's awfully convenient of her husband that he was with a friend, because he has someone to verify his story. He is a private in the army and served in Iraq, suriving an IUD explosion. I think the police didn't have enough evidence for a jury to convict a war hero, so they took this route instead. But I think it's smurfing bullsmurf and I think her husband killed her and their infant son. The night before the funeral OF HIS WIFE THE MOTHER OF HIS CHILD AND HIS FIRST BORN EIGHT MONTH OLD ONLY CHILD he was spotted at a strip club! Sounds like a grieving man to me Sure everyone grieves differently but come the FFFF on! My mom said he was cold as hell at the funeral too and didn't even mention baby Brock when speaking.
The police man who opened the trunk and found them was instantly brought to tears. Not because he found a child and woman in a trunk but because of how he found them. She was holding her baby in a way that she was protecting his whole body, obviously trying to keep him warm. DOES THIS SOUND LIKE A MOTHER THAT WANTED HER CHILD DEAD? PROTECTING HIM WITH EVERYTHING SHE COULD UNTIL HER LAST DYING BREATH. Everyone who really knew her knows that there is no possible way she did this.. she wanted a child forever, she was almost forty. Loved that little boy with every ounce of her being. Sure, it's possible, I mean anything is. But I highly, highly doubt it.
Makes me sick that they will never get the justice they deserve, and she has the title of killing her own child.
**BTW all of the information I have was given to my mom by a very close family member of Andrea's. "
This takes me back to the denial stage....
Anyone suggest anything?