A wrecking ball of bad news; my heart broken and demolished into a zillion pieces.

Today, while in the waiting office of my pain management dr, I was scrolling through facebook, when I suddenly saw something that ruined my entire rest of my day; A friend of mine in St Louis, Missouri, Mr. Mike James, passed away overnight.

I met Mr. Mike James in 2012 while I was in halo traction at Shriners Hospital for Children-St Louis; he worked at Cabela’s and the company would come to the hospital once a month for “Cabela’s night” where their volunteers would bring educational things about Native Americans, animal trapping, hunting stuff (no weapons) just pictures or like duck calls. It was a highlight of the month for all of the patients to enjoy.

I was one of the oldest patients there, so the adults would often talk to me about “Where I was from,” “what I liked to do,” “If I had ever been to a Cabelas,” stuff like that, and a few of them got close with me because of my “spunky attitude,” these included Mr. Mike James, his wife Nancy, and our mutual friend Beverly Duval. They were there through it all- my surgery, my recovery until I went home, when I went back for checkups, when Beverly hosted me for a week for spring break, my first boyfriend, and they had just met my fiance’ and he approved of him, even liked him, and planned on attending the wedding next year. Now he’ll just attend in spirit.

One week and a day ago, we were having dinner with you and your wife. One week and a day ago, we were laughing and chatting and catching up, you and my fiance’ were talking “hunting, guns, Trump, politics, all kinds of things.” Plans were made to attend my wedding next year, talks of us thinking of possibly moving near you and your wife, plans for you and my fiance’ to go hunting together. 
Now you are gone, back to heavenly home and everyone left behind are in mourning. 
You were one heck of a guy, Mr. Mike James. I will miss your comments on my facebook, I will miss seeing you when I go up to St Louis. It feels like a bad dream that I cant wake up from. I wish I could just wake up and this nightmare not be real. It feels like someone punched me in the stomach. it feels like a giant lump in my throat. It feels like my heart has shattered into a zillion fragmented pieces. 

😥 RIP Mr. Mike James. I know you def. earned your angel wings. 

❤ Fly High.

The funeral.

I was able to read my “writing” I did for Mommie on the day I found out she died, today; however, toward the ending, I got choked up, and quickly finished, and ran out the room before the water-works started. I had a huge knot in my stomach all day and could barely eat: I forced myself to eat a little bit though to just not get sick.
At the church, Mom wrote and read a beautiful eulogy- I know where I got my writing talent from. It described my Mommie perfectly. It was at the same church and cemetry my Poppee- grandpa is buried.

In happier news, David and I like the church for our wedding next year (if all goes well with my surgery and recovery). Today was a hard memory in that church, time to add in a happy one 🙂 Plus, this way, Mommee and Poppee’s spirit don’t have to travel too far to be in that church when I walk down that aisle. 🙂 Another funny thing, my aunt Jan grabbed my fiance’ by the collar and basically threatened him, “If you hurt Jamie, you deal with me!” I think he knows if he ever hurts me, he’s gonna have a huge angry mob after him! LMAO.