The Last Email

September 3, 2014

It has been a month and a day since Simon died.  Sometimes it seems like it was a lifetime ago, sometimes it still seems like he should be walking through the front door any minute, as though he was just gone on a long trip. The kids and I are coping and getting back into a regular routine with school.  I’ll head back to work part time next week. I am taking the older kids on separate vacations in the next few months.  It will give us something to look forward to and quality time together. I have a few “dates” scheduled with my mom, girlfriends, and platonic male friends so that I can acclimate back into mainstream society after a summer of chaos and loss. I need excuses to wear lipgloss and wear clothes that don’t involve the words yoga pants or stretch cotton.

Our son mentions that he misses his dad every few days and wants to verbally process how we will move forward.  He wants to know logistics: who will take him to school, who will play sports with him, who will help him in scouting, etc.  He hugs more and shows empathy more. He has stepped up around the house and shown increasing responsibility. Simon had a big talk with him before he passed about being the man of the house; the words seem to have stuck.  Our middle daughter is more emotional.  If she is tired or hungry, she falls apart and says she misses Dad.  She doesn’t want to get rid of any of his things. She has insisted we not sell our current two cars when we buy our new car. She has always been part sentimental, part hoarder.  She likes me to stay pulled together, though.  If I start to tear up, she says, “Stop freaking me out, Mom.”  Gotta love the logic of a five year old. Our youngest has been clingier than usual but still doesn’t understand what happened.

Doing the daily things has proven to be the most exhausting emotionally and physically. Taking care of the house, shuttling kids to school and activities, homework, managing chores, laundry, and meals.  I did all of those things before as the primary caregiver but would, at the bare minimum, get affirmation and tangible help from Simon. Now, I do all those things, plus extra chores he used to take care of, and at the end of the day, I have three kids to interact with.  They’re pretty sweet but adult interaction is sorely missed. Our son can’t discuss current events with me in depth. Our daughter can’t watch R Rated documentaries with me on Netflix. None of them tell me I look pretty but they are great at pointing out my “jiggly butt” and “squishy tummy.” Sigh.

So, feeling a bit hopeless and weepy this afternoon, I remembered that Simon wrote me a sweet email shortly after his devastating diagnosis:

June 24, 2014     Since the day I dropped you off at the airport after you visited  in September 2003, I knew I loved you. Well, enthralled with you seems more fitting. Thank you for giving me the ten best of my thirty-four years. I am sad that our time together seems like it is going to be cut shorter than we both expected. But you have truly been a blessing in my life. Our kids are great and they will be taken care of by the One who has a always taken care of us. 

Ugh. I miss him. But S.E.R.I.O.U.S.L.Y., I have to knock off this feeling sorry for myself. Feeling sad is okay. Lonely is okay. Feeling ungrateful is not okay. Simon was so good to me and our kids.  We got the chance to say goodbye. We had closure.  We have hope in our Creator. We have a legacy for our kids. He gave me his blessing to live life and move on.  I’m just kind of kicking my heels right now but I’ll get there.



  1. Jenna on September 3, 2014 at 3:33 pm

    I wish I could send you a bedtime service-something I’ve dreamed about for the last 5 years. In my imagination, a fabulously kind, patient and friendly person would come in at 7, when my kindness and patience have worn away, and load the dishwasher before expertly performing the grueling task of bedtime. I wish this for you, friend 🙂

  2. Kathy O'Kelley on September 3, 2014 at 3:39 pm

    This brought tears to my eyes. You and Simon had a love that many people never experience. My prayers continue to be with you and your precious children. For what it’s worth, I think you are beautiful inside and out (jiggly butt and all). God bless you.

  3. Trevelyn Phillips-Marsh on September 3, 2014 at 4:42 pm

    What a blessing to have such a wonderful letter from Simon. We continue to you lift you and the kids up in prayer.

  4. Holly Lemus on September 3, 2014 at 6:19 pm

    Touching.. your words hit deep. I am so sorry for your loss . You are in my prayers. Matthew 5:4″ Blessed are those that mourn, for they shall be comforted” Hang in there Kristy.

  5. Jane Kelley on September 3, 2014 at 6:24 pm

    Kristy you are doing a great job. I think what you are going through is all part of the grieving process. There will be times when you just feel a little overwhelmed. I think you are such an encouragement to so many. God bless you

  6. Samantha smart-frailey on September 3, 2014 at 6:39 pm

    I’ll try and read this later as I’m sobbing and getting strange looks from others on the train from el Segundo. Kristy dear. ….. you inspire me to be a better everything. Sending you my love and holding your hand from a distance.

  7. Chris & Tammy Lummus on September 3, 2014 at 7:27 pm

    That e-mail…..what a treasure! After reading your blog today, all I can think is that out of the billions of people that inhabit this planet, you, Kristy Caver, were THE ONE that found & stole Simon’s heart. What a privilege! There was none like him, nor will there ever be. And YOU got to be his wife & mother of his children. It was an honor of a life time. So….grieve. Don’t feel guilty about doing so. You’re supposed to. You are loved by so many❤️

  8. Gina Rossman on September 3, 2014 at 9:07 pm

    You are right, it is exhausting to take care of three kids and home alone, but thing will get better, especially when the kids are more independent. I am so sorry Simon isnt here physically but only spiritually he is definitely with you and the kids. Because uou all loved Simon so much, its ok to be sad and feel heartache . You are entitled….. You need time my friend…Love ya much…

  9. Friend of a friend on September 3, 2014 at 9:15 pm

    Thank you for sharing. I’m sorry for your pain. I pray that the One who promises to be husband to the husbandless & father to the fatherless will wrap you around in His comfort. His presence to continually walk with you. His Person to be ever so tangible & present moment by moment, & especially on days that are long, sad & lonely.

  10. Gina Rossman on September 3, 2014 at 11:02 pm

    Simons email says it all……how sad he felt and how thankful and loved you made him feel. The perfect email reminder from the heart. You will be together again one day….until then…we just keep loving.

  11. Michelle Stevens on September 5, 2014 at 4:38 pm

    Do what you need to do friend. I will be praying for you all the same. Mourn how you need to, it’s natural that you miss everything about him, about being married, and the transition from being in a partner relationship to doing it on your own. It’s hard for me to do it and I have never known help. You have my heart friend. Love you!




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