by D. Kelly
“Hello, Mel. How are you doing today?” Diane is standing next to Sawyer, looking at me with kind eyes.
“We’re going to let you guys talk,” Eli says as he stands and grabs his guitar while Sawyer gathers his music. I’m in shock; I didn’t even know Diane was a therapist.
“I’m not sure what to say,” I stammer as she sits across from me.
“Well, how about I go first?” she asks, and I nod in agreement.
“I’m probably not the best person for this. In fact, I know I’m not. I’m on leave from my practice because I’m still grieving. But because I know what you’re going through in some aspect, I couldn’t just sit by and let everyone worry about you without seeing how you’re doing for myself.”
“I held Nate today for the first time since the hospital,” I spit out.
“That’s good, Mel. How did it make you feel?”
“Like the worst person in the world because I hadn’t done it sooner.” She raises a brow at me and I continue. “Also, like I had a part of Noah back in my arms. It hurt so much, but it was the best kind of pain.”
With tears in her eyes, she smiles. “Last night, you slept in a cemetery. Can you talk to me about that?”
For the next hour, I open myself up to Diane. I’m not sure why. Maybe because I feel like it would make Noah happy. Or maybe because I know she was a huge part of Sawyer’s recovery when he was a kid.
“Did you become a therapist because of Sawyer?” I ask, needing to satiate my curiosity.
“In part. I knew I wanted to help people because I saw how much Sawyer and Jordan were affected by what happened to our family. It wasn’t until Sawyer was in high school and grew so much from his journaling that I decided I wanted to be a grief counselor.”
I didn’t realize she was a grief counselor. That makes all the sense in the world now.
“Mel, I’ve seen people so consumed by grief that it ate at them until they took their own lives. Thinking about suicide and actually taking steps toward it can be a fine line. But I don’t get the impression it’s one you’re walking.”
“I’m lost, Diane.”
“The best of us often are. Going back to therapy will be good for you. I’m willing to stay here all week until you can see your own therapist if you want me to.”
“I think I’ll be okay, but could I call you if I need to?”
“Absolutely. In fact, maybe we can go to lunch with the girls when you feel up to it. They love you, Mel, and I think you could help fill a void for them, too.”
I’m not sure what it is about that idea but it makes my heart a little lighter.
“I’d like that a lot.”
Later that night, Sawyer shows me how to give Nate a bath. “Who would have thought I’d be learning how to do this from you?”
“Hey now, I’m a pretty awesome uncle if you haven’t noticed already.”
“You’re a pretty awesome friend and brother, too, Sawyer. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. So are you ready for your first night on baby duty?” he asks, effectively changing the subject.
“I think so. And if this goes well, I should probably step up and do it every night.”
Sawyer pauses and turns toward me. “Actually, I’d really like to keep helping you every other night. Being with Nate helps me feel close to Noah.”
“You’re not just saying that because you don’t want me to do this alone?”
“You’re never going to have to do this alone, Princess, but no. I’d do it by myself every night, but it was time for me to share him with you. Being with Nate makes me feel good and nothing else really does right now.”
Sawyer holds out a towel and I lift Nate from the baby tub so Sawyer can wrap it around him. “Yeah, Sawyer, I’d love the help. God, why does he smell so good? I just want to eat him.”
Sawyer laughs. “I don’t know, but I understand the feeling. Some nights I want to hug him so hard just so he’s close, but I know he’s too tiny for all that just yet.”
Sawyer sits with me as I get Nate dressed and feed him his bedtime bottle. After I put him to bed, we go to the kitchen and sit at the table.
“Do you remember everything from that night?” I ask.
“Unfortunately. How much do you remember, Mel?”
He looks eager for my answer, and I wonder if he’s wanted to ask me this for a while.
“Noah talking to you on the phone, and then everything is in slow motion until my body hit the floor and I blacked out. After that, I don’t remember much. Flashes of people, things, lights. I remember talking to Noah on the way out of the bus and that they were working on him. I remember the fear and the pain.”
He’s listening to me with rapt attention, so I continue.
“I don’t really remember the flight, but I remember your voice keeping me calm. The way you held my hand … I knew I was safe with you. I remember how scared I was when they started hooking me up to all that equipment and cutting off my clothes and just how bad everything hurt. I didn’t know anything could hurt that much.”
“What about now, Mel? You don’t take your pills anymore, and you never mention the pain, but even with the cast off and all your stitches and staples out your back must still hurt.”
The concern on his face is touching. This is a whole other layer to Sawyer. I wonder if he’s changed from the accident, or if he’s always been like this deep down but kept that part of himself hidden. I have a feeling it’s the latter.
“There’s no pain unless I’m moving around. When I sit I’m good. It can get uncomfortable at night, and I’m sure I’ll still need a lot more help with Nate because of my lifting restrictions but I don’t like drugs, Sawyer. Especially after my dad. The ibuprofen helps knock the edge off. If I have a bad day I’ll take them, I promise.”
“Okay, you know what’s best for you. I have a question for you now. When you have your nightmares, what are you dreaming about if you don’t remember much?”
“Mostly Belle’s screams and the fearful feeling something is wrong with Noah. How scared I was when I felt the fluid rush between my legs. It’s weird, Sawyer. That’s why I wish I knew what happened because it’s all just these random flashes of things but the order doesn’t make any sense to me.”
He folds his hands together as if in prayer and shakes his head. “I’m sorry, Mel. I wish I could help you.”
“Me, too. I do remember being pissed you were watching me give birth. I was mad and scared about so many other things. But you were doing it for Noah and it made me happy at the same time that you were there doing that for him, for us, so you could give him those memories.”
Sawyer looks up at me with a smile so wide his dimple is showing. “I didn’t want Noah to miss a detail, but that was one of the greatest things I’ve ever seen. Don’t get me wrong, it killed me that you were in so much pain on top of the normal labor stuff, but I don’t know … watching a baby being born on a video and seeing it in person is so much different. Seeing that head of hair come out and then his little face, hearing him cry and watching his little hands curl up to his mouth … It was breathtaking, Mel. I know you didn’t really have a choice, but thank you for letting me be there.”
“I didn’t have much of a train of thought to kick you out, but I don’t think I would have. There’s no way I could have done it alone.”
“I’m glad.” He reaches over and squeezes my fingers. “Because seeing my nephew come into the world was one of the highlights of my life.”
Sawyer stands and yawns. “Goodnight, Mel.”
“Goodnight, Sawyer.”
Long after Sawyer goes to bed, I sit at the table and think about his words. That man has seen just about everything there is in the world and he called Nate’s birth one of the highlights of his life. I’m not sure what I’m feeling but I’m feeling and I have Sawyer to thank for it.
One early morning, about five weeks later, there’s a light knock at m
y door. I’m up and watching the dolphins play in the ocean.
“Come in,” I call out, and Sawyer enters with one hand behind his back.
“Happy birthday, Princess.” He pulls a small plate with a cupcake from behind his back and hands it to me. “I know you said you didn’t want to make a big deal out of your birthday this year, but thirty is a big one and you at least deserve a cupcake.”
“Sawyer, thank you.”
“That’s not all,” he says, flashing me his dimple smile, and walks out to the hall before returning with a gift. “Don’t be mad, but there’s no way you would have sat back and let one of our birthdays pass without doing the same.”
I’m not much in the mood to celebrate this year, but I understand where he’s coming from.
“Open it,” he says, handing me his gift.
“Sawyer,” I gasp after tearing off the paper. My eyes fill with tears as I look down at the framed photo.
“It’s a reminder and a gift. Do you remember how mad you were when Warren told us it was your birthday? And how mad Noah was you didn’t tell us yourself?”
I laugh at the memory. “He called me a stubborn Scorpio.”
“And he was right. I know the last thing any of us want to do right now is party. But Noah would want us to celebrate you on your big day. I want to celebrate you, but I understand it’s hard. Next year, watch out. I’m going to make up for it big time.”
He leans down and kisses the top of my head.
“Thank you, Sawyer. I love it.”
“Happy birthday, Princess,” he says again, and leaves me alone with my memories.
The photo is of the five of us on the bus. The birthday cake had just been cut and we’re all laughing because it was filled with pineapple instead of strawberries—definitely not what they had ordered. It was kind of gross so we all ate around it, except for Darren. He loved it so much he scooped up all of ours and ate that, too. It was a great day.
Merry Christmas Slammed Family,
My name is Amelia Weston and I’m Belle’s sister. I’m sure most of you are also aware I am Noah’s wife. I’m sorry it took me so long to update this blog for you all. Grief is a powerful emotion and I haven’t been myself lately. Who am I kidding? I’ll probably never be myself again.
Sawyer, Wyatt, Darren, and I would like to thank you for the outpouring of love and support you showered us with during our time of need. We know how much you all loved Noah and Belle and that you are going to miss them just as much as we will.
I’m sure you understand the guys will not be finishing out the remainder of the tour without Noah. For those of you who didn’t get to see the show, we are deeply sorry for that.
Since the accident, I’ve spent most of my time healing, grieving, and learning how to be a mom. This isn’t the vision I had for my life, and every day without Noah and Belle hurts more than I could ever begin to explain. But with the love and support from our families, I’m moving forward one day at a time.
With Darren’s permission, I’m sharing a photo of Cadence and Nate taken this morning, on their first Christmas. Belle and Noah would have been proudly posting this picture to every social media outlet they could find, so we thought it was appropriate to share it with you.
In honor of Noah and Belle, Slammed has given me permission to post periodic updates to this blog. Don’t get too excited, I’m not a blogger–that was Belle all the way. But I am a proud mom and aunt and the least I can do is share some important milestones their children achieve. Besides, if I constantly post pictures they become worthless to the paparazzi. Our kids may be a bit safer out of their line of sight.
Enjoy your holiday, Slammers, and thanks for reading.
With love,
Amelia, Sawyer, Darren, Wyatt, Cadence, and Nate
Five Months And A Day
Five months and a day—that’s how long it’s been since the accident. I’ve been going to therapy for the last fourteen weeks. Even though it’s a constant struggle, the thoughts of joining Noah and Belle are pretty much nonexistent at this point. I’ve come to understand I was never really a danger to myself, but it’s more about how I don’t know how to cope with this massive amount of guilt.
I’ve started writing Belle letters. I’m still not sure how to grieve for her, so I write down everything I want to tell her or talk to her about each week and seal it on Sunday. They’re just for me, and when I’m ready I’ll have to burn them, but it helps me feel closer to her.
The holidays were rough and the New Year was even worse. Sawyer kept me blissfully liquored up and took on more Nate duties for me through the harder days. Nate started crawling on Christmas day; I swear it was Noah somehow making his presence known. Cadence is walking now and with every single milestone these two hit, my tears flow in abundance. Mama comes over as much as she can to spend time with us, so does Karen.
Rory and I still haven’t talked much, but one of my promises to myself for the New Year is to finally sit down and watch Noah’s video. Maybe once I hear what he has to say I can listen to Rory with an open heart. It would hurt Noah, knowing Rory and I are at odds, so I want to make things right. Eli and Sawyer are still spending a good amount of time together. Unfortunately, up until Thanksgiving, Darren, Wyatt, and Sawyer were not.
I was convinced they all needed group therapy to learn how to stay friends without Noah, but something amazing happened. On Thanksgiving, Anna and Wyatt announced they’re having a baby. Anna is due in May and she’s having a boy. Something clicked into place after their announcement and they’ve been thick as thieves ever since, even bringing Eli into the fold. He’s getting ready to go on tour soon. I don’t know who is going to miss him more, me or Sawyer.
After Noah died, there was a part of me that was hesitant to let Eli comfort me. I didn’t want him to think we could try again. That was me being an idiot because Eli has so much more respect for me and Noah than to try anything like that. In fact, Eli has spent many nights in my big, comfy chair so he could be there to pull me from the nightmares plaguing me.
Tonight was one of those nights. The nightmare was so bad I tweaked my back and flared up my injury. Sawyer had just put Nate back to sleep when it happened. My nightmares scare him just as much as his scared me last year. After he coaxed me from the terror, he brought me a pain pill and a muscle relaxer. The doctor says I’m almost fully healed but these flare-ups could happen every so often.
As I lie here waiting for the pills to kick in, my mind races with all these errant thoughts. A lot of things have happened in the last few months. The most important being we found out the cause of the accident. It was truly that—an accident. The other driver had been coming down an incline when his brakes failed. No one knows why. He was forty-five with a wife and three young kids.
I feel like I should do something for them—Noah would have—but I’m just not sure what I can do. Anything seems like an empty gesture. The same thing goes for Harold’s family. The band took care of them, but there’s this nagging feeling that Noah would want me to do more. Which is another reason why I need to watch his video; I need to know what he expects from me. I spend my days still listening to the EP he made for me and a sad playlist I made that reminds me of him. Ray LaMontagne’s “A Falling Through” is setting the tone for my melancholy mood right now.
Every day, I show Nate and Cadence pictures of Belle and Noah. Cadence already says Mama and Dada and it’s the sweetest and most gut-wrenching thing. I know when Nate finally starts saying Dada I’m going to lose it. Even so, one of the things I’ve come to realize the past few months is Nate saved me. From the second I held him in the nursery that day, something clicked. I never imagined I could love someone the way I love him. It’s all-encompassing and I often hope Noah felt what I feel in that brief moment he was able to hold Nate in the hospital.
“Hey, Mel?” Sawyer calls from the doorway.
I blink back my tears and turn to him. “Come on in, Sawyer.�
�� He’s holding his journal. He’s been writing in his spare time lately. I haven’t seen him without a notebook in his hands for months. He sits down on the bed and props himself against the headboard, so I follow suit.
“Even with therapy your nightmares are getting worse.”
“I’m sorry. You can just let me get through them … you don’t have to keep waking me up.”
He turns his green eyes to mine and they’re filled with pain. “I know what that’s like, Mel, and it fucking sucks. I’ve been working on a project for myself the past few months, but I realized tonight maybe it could help you.”
“What kind of project?”
He exhales and runs his hand through his already messy hair. “I guess you could say I’m chronicling my life with Noah. I started with the tour because it’s the freshest in my mind. Noah was more than my brother and twin, he was my best friend. I remember everything now, but someday I won’t.”
A single tear slips down his cheek and he brushes it away quickly. “The more I started writing, the more I realized I’m not only doing it for me. I’m doing it for Nate so he can really know his dad.”
“Oh, Sawyer … that’s … honestly the best gift you could give him.”
He laughs lightly. “I’m no writer, Mel. These are just recollections of what happened. The only people I’m comfortable sharing this with are Nate and you.”
“Me?”
“Yeah. There’s something I can share with you that might help. I started this journal the day after the funeral and I began with the night of the accident. Maybe if you read this, it will help jog your memory and eventually put your mind at ease enough to stop the nightmares.”
Holy shit. Do I want to read this?
“How bad is it, Sawyer?” I whisper.
“Pretty much every detail from when I got on the bus until after you woke up. You don’t have to read it now, or ever, Mel. It was just an idea.”
