May 17th

May 17, 2023 Austin should have graduated 7 years ago today. Instead, his graduation ceremony proceeded seamlessly without him and his murderer was released from a ridiculously lenient prison sentence. 3 years of a lifetime sentence for us, another in a long painful list of “should have beens,” while a murderer picks up right where he left off, a new lease on life, looking forward to what life holds for him. 7 years ago, one mama got her son back. But it sure wasn’t me.

Another 365 days around the sun without you. 8 whole years since you were taken from our lives. What I wouldn't give for a "Hey, Mom" and a hug right about now. Every day is one day closer to seeing you again. How my heart still aches for you and wonders where you would be and what you would be doing. You would be so smitten with Eli, just like we are. He sure reminds us of you. Miss you every single day, my baby. Keep praying for us and your friends. Hug Jesus for me! XOXO

Things I wish I didn't think about...

I wish I didn’t think about my son's body being alone in the cemetery.  

I wish I didn’t think about his casket being pushed into the mausoleum drawer and the front of the drawer sealed in complete cold and darkness on the worst day of my life, the day we said goodbye to him on earth.

I wish I didn't think of his damaged bloodied body with a bullet hole through his throat, slumped over the back seat of that truck. 

I wish I didn't think about how long it took for him to bleed to death. 

I wish I didn't think of what has happened to his body in that mausoleum drawer over the last four years. 

I wish I didn't think of what his last thoughts were before he died.

I wish I didn't think about how much he suffered or if he knew he was dying. 

I wish I didn't think about what condition he would be in if the bullet had hit him in a slightly different place in his head or neck--head injury? Quadriplegic? 

I wish I didn't think about the evil and hatred and anger that must have been growing in his murderers heart to commit such an act.  

I wish I didn't think about his murderer living large, getting a college degree and joyously celebrating birthdays and holidays with his family. 

I wish I didn't think about the people that say "he's a good kid."

I wish I didn't think about the judge's lame excuse for his leniency or his disregard for the life of my son and the two other boys who were injured. 

I wish I didn't think about his step father giving him a thumbs up in the courtroom when he was given his lenient sentence for manslaughter. 

I wish I didn't think about said step father buying him the damn gun in the first place.  

I wish I didn't think about why God allows such evil to exist, evil that extinguishes a precious life created in His image, a life that he breathed life into. 

But I have faith. 

I have faith that I will see Jesus and my son on the other side of this life. 

I have faith that Austin is with Jesus and that he welcomed him with open arms. 

I have faith that he is gloriously complete in heaven. 

I have faith that this world is not all we have. 

Thank God.

Once upon a time

Once upon a time, I was the mother of 3 living children. Once upon a time, I was a mother who didn't have a dead child. The End

Another sad day from the "Criminal Justice" System...

Days after Austin was murdered, my friend Wendy sadly informed me that the Criminal Justice System is designed for the benefit of the criminals. Wiser words were never said.

This is part of the transcript from the sentencing. Notice it says 2 years probation. Today Austin's murderer had additional drug charges dropped and the news reported that he had completed his probation, but he has only served one year. I know, because he was released from his pathetic 10 month prison sentence one day before Austin was to graduate from High School--one year ago this month. 

It should also be noted that convicted felons in LA are prohibited from ever owning a firearm, not just during probation. Why would the judge add it as a "special consideration" of his probation? 

Dear precious young family

This morning, like so many Sunday mornings before, we sat behind a precious young family in mass:

A sweet little curly haired blonde, with a big bow in her hair and glasses (I am such a sucker for a kiddo in glasses!), working on a no-spill cup full of fruit loops;
2 wiggly little boys in pint sized converse tennis shoes with their super hero figurines;
a sleeping baby in his carrier (I couldn't wait for him to wake up so I could make sweet eyes at him); Parents trying to keep them all quiet, giving tender kisses on their heads as needed;
and a Grandma whose lap was apparently the best seat in the house.

My thought this morning, like so many Sunday mornings before:

I hope they never have to bury one of these precious children.

1460 and counting

4 years ago today our lives changed forever. The ever-feared knock on the door became our darkest heartbreaking reality. Our family went from 5 to 4 in a moments notice. I started today as I have the past anniversaries of this day, in mass. As I prayed this morning, I prayed for all the survivors... our family, our friends, Austin's friends, the 2 young men living with emotional and physical wounds from that night and the young man living with the weight of his choices. My prayer has always been for conversion, for that refining fire to continually turn our hearts to Jesus and use this tragedy to pull us closer to him, to know him more, to show us the value of life above all else, and help us walk a little closer with Him each day. 


I pray differently now, now that I am a most uncomfortable reminder that life is so very fragile and some of us will outlive our children. I don't pray for outcomes as much as I pray for conversion and salvation. (I want to live in paradise with Jesus and my loved ones!) Oh, and peace. I pray for peace A LOT. I also pray that we can all listen to the Holy Spirit and discover our own purpose--what Jesus left us, the survivors, here to accomplish for Him. 


I can't say there has been a turning point in this journey, but rather a gradual awakening of hope and joy, a realization that joy and grief can co-exist, though not always equally on any given day. Our family is learning to make new memories without Austin (vacations, holidays, oh and a wedding!) while holding close the ones he gave us. Hearing his name or a story about his mischief or adventures brings laughter more than tears and that place in my heart that is just his size is empty, but sacred. I long to hear his voice, see his face and hug that skinny body, but that will have to wait. I wonder who he would be today on earth, but I know that he is gloriously complete in heaven. And I am grateful for all of you who have said a prayer, shed a tear, held our hand, sat with us, sent a text, visited his grave, offered a mass, or in any other way helped us along this road. God bless you for your faithfulness. 


Austin, we love and miss you. Pray for us!