Shawn VanHorn

Long post. I apologize in advance. Wrote this so maybe people will know what I’m feeling since Duncan’s death.

”I feel ya”, ”I understand”, ”I’ve been there”, I know where you’re coming from”, and ”I know how you feel” spill as easily from our lips as water from an inverted pitcher. How often have we heard these words? How often have we chosen to speak these words hoping to either ingratiate ourselves or imply that we are somehow connected to someone by our common experiences? What do we hope the outcome will be when we utter them? Will their utterance establish a bond between thee and me that may never be broken?

We have experienced the same things; therefore, we are alike and ought to relate to one another on a deeper spiritual, emotional, or psychological level. Perhaps, as a result of a latent subconscious vanity, we elicit these expressions as a means of one-upping the individuals we are speaking with. Like a tennis player volleying the ball over the net to their opponent, we all too often mindlessly respond to an individual’s dilemmas, situations, or woes by lobbing back at them an ill-thought out, ”I feel ya.” 

I hope you are never awakened by your spouse who is shouting that there is something wrong with your child.

…you never have to assist as your child is  lifted from their bed onto a stretcher.

…you never have to watch as the paramedics remove your child’s clothing in preparation for medical treatment.

…you never have to watch someone struggle  to place a tube down your child’s throat in hopes that they may have breathe.

…you never have to speed down the highway to keep up with the ambulance that is carrying your child.

…you never have to wait anxiously in an ER waiting room praying for your child’s wellbeing.

…you never have to sit in a tiny room, being told by an unfamiliar doctor that your child is no longer living.

…you never have to tell your family that their brother, grandson, cousin, and nephew has died.

…you never have to try to be ‘strong’ so you can plan a funeral while holding back your tears.

…you never have to doubt yourself nor your efforts to help your child overcome their physical, emotional, and psychological struggles.

…you never have to try to explain to someone how or why your child has died.

…you never feel like  there’s a hole in the center of your being because your child has died.

…you never have to feel guilty for receiving blessings while your child is lying in a grave.

…you know you need to continue on with your life, but all you want to do is curl up into a ball somewhere and wither away.

   …your photos and recordings of your child are poor substitutions for your child’s presence.

   …you never have to try to put into words that which cannot be put into words.

Hi, my name is Deb Moroney and I lost a son Kyle at age 23 on June 23, 2017. As many of you don’t know me, I’m originally from mid-state Illinois and attended nursing school in Springfield, Illinois. I graduated in 1985 and along with my then boyfriend, now husband, Roger, of almost 32 years, moved to Southern IL near Belleville actually living in Maryville, IL. I eventually took a job shortly before getting married in 1987 working at St. Louis University Hospital in St. Louis, MO. I finished a bachelor’s degree in nursing as well as my husband finishing with a Bachelor’s in physics in 1993. I was about 5 months pregnant with Kyle going to school and working full time. He arrived a month early on a Sunday, March 20, 1994 (Spring Day baby) weighing only 5lbs, 13 oz. He was so tiny but grew quickly and before he was 3, we decided to move to Fenton, MO to build a house and stop having to drive across bridges every day for work. Kyle so loved watching our house being built. I remember him picking out his room so vividly. Our house was finished just before Christmas and we all felt that this was the best Christmas present ever! 

In 2001 we moved to Tennessee settling in Lenoir City and built our dream home. A timber frame home almost to the design we had sketched out on our honeymoon. Little did we know we would live in it for almost 16 years. This was Kyle’s home, our home. In April of 2017 we decided to move and did so to Sevierville after purchasing a 175-year-old plantation house that we hope to open as a Bed & Breakfast later this year. Having graduated from Saint Louis University Post Master’s program, I started a new job as a Nurse Practitioner with Humana in late May. As our luck would have it, we had only into the house just moved into the house a mere 5 weeks before, Kyle was tragically killed in a single car accident along with his passenger, a friend of his, on a mountain road that he so loved. I never would have dreamed that I would be on this journey at this point in my life, nor would I wish it upon anyone else.

As we know our own grief journey is personal even different from our spouse’s, we are required only to try and take a day or even a minute at a time to survive. I did take a chance to reach for help and called Mane Support, an equine therapy-based grief and loss therapy center located in Maryville. It was there working with horses and a counselor that I have been able to finally see me first and acknowledge my wants and needs before being asked to serve on the Board. As an Assistant Co- Chairman of the Board for Mane Support, we are working to maintain its true ministry and vision.

I recently started a new job last October, working for UT Palliative Care and absolutely love my job and my co-workers as well. I feel that Kyle guided me to that job for a reason which was to help others during a crisis at a most vulnerable point in their lives just as he would have helped anyone even a stranger he’d never met before.

This journey is far from over. Last May 2018, almost one year after the loss of Kyle, we lost our beloved Max, a 15 1/2-year-old Border Collie that grew up with Kyle after moving into our home in Lenoir City. We were completely devastated all over again by loss although in a different sense but all the same as it triggered so much for me regarding Kyle. It’s true I’ll never be the same person I once was but with time and much healing and prayers, I will continue to carry on my son’s light and keep his name and spirit alive.

Thank you for reading some of my postings or blogs. I write whatever comes from my heart at that particular time. It may be short while others are lengthy. I only hope that through my writings someone else may gain strength to know it’s okay to feel like this and that there is no true path in which we are required to follow. It’s each of our’s personal journey as it should be.

Peace and hugs,

Kyle’s Mom – Deb (ZBOYMOM)

Deb Moroney

June 30, 2019

As June comes to a close, I am laying here thinking of how much my life has changed in the last two years. Looking back, I no longer see the same person I once was nor do I really want to be that person at this point in my life. Losing Kyle definitely turned my life upside down and as of late I have never felt so lost and alone in my grief. Yes, I have great support but while walking this grief journey one has to acquire a new sense of balance so to speak in one’s life. I have not felt balanced for many months. Maybe because so much has been going on I really haven’t had time for just me or just time to destress from everyday living without some little crisis flaring up. Recently I escaped on a mini “Me” vacation to try and regroup myself so that I might get a better handle on things in my life. As luck would have it a huge stressor occurred while I was gone, and I almost cancelled my trip. However, after much turmoil back and forth in my brain (mainly because I was by myself) I decided to not leave and let things work out as they did. I was able to help out each day and keep my family in the loop which I hope helped. As far as taking care of me, I did do just that, and it was well worth the trip in that regards. However, upon returning home I haven’t felt any different and I’m not really sure what I was really expecting. I have realized that communication is important and that I am not so great at it. Never have been. I can talk about other things, people, Kyle, the house, anything except me and how I really feel. I think I see myself in so many ways it’s hard to put it into words. I feel empty inside some days, I feel like my heart has been broken in a million pieces and can never be put back together, I feel lost some days, I feel like I am weighted down by a million pounds and can hardly move, and yet some days I think I am still just numb to everything because it’s like I hardly feel anything. Grief affects a person in so many ways. It truly is like an ocean just constantly lapping at you waiting to knock you over and attempt to drown you only to see you struggle back up to do it all over again. The last 6 months to year have seemed the hardest maybe because we have lived through all the “firsts” and now we are no longer moving in that brain fog of grief but truly experiencing grief and its awful harsh reality. I know for me it has seemed harder to laugh and be joyful even when thing used to bring me great joy and excitement. It’s not that I’m not appreciative but I feel like part of me is missing so much. Maybe it’s my brain telling me that this is what Kyle is missing out on and I’m seeing it through his eyes. I’m not sure. It doesn’t help to think of it either way because it’s just sad. Even work feels robotic some days although I love my job and feel that Kyle helped get in the place, I’m in now. I can’t think of anywhere else I’d want to be. I wake up each morning ready to tackle the day as he would want me to and try to remember that I’m helping others as he always helped those in need. Often it was done by just listening or holding someone’s hand. Words sometimes do not need to be spoken for every situation. Grieving parents of an only child are an unique group in that we don’t have other children to hug or embrace to or watch grow up nor will we ever experience our child’s future endeavors such as career achievements, getting married, having his own family and home, even the simplest thing as moving out and living on his/her own would have been a fun time. Well maybe on second thought it might have been stressful for all of us!! But you get the picture after one loses their only child the family unit is broken. The threesome is no longer as it should be and as much as we dread it we are forced back to just a couple without a child (no matter the age). Looking back, I often wonder why we waited so long to have Kyle. Did we really have to be married 7 years and know each other for almost 9 years before he entered our life and changed it forever? I don’t have the answer for that. I’m so glad and so very proud of our son Kyle. I miss him terribly, but I know he’s happy and that he’s my Guardian Angel now. I ask him every morning and all through the day to give me the strength to carry on as he would, helping others and taking care of his Dad as best I can. I am always looking for signs from him especially his rainbow around the sun. That one is definitely a special one. I just want him to know I’m trying my best to do a good job even on the hard days. I am determined to not give up but to learn by each day as I make my journey along the path of grief. I will continue to help others and to keep our son’s spirit alive in doing so. I know there is purpose in everyone’s life but for me I am still searching for it to find me and help guide me on my journey. I am pretty sure I’m headed down the right path and I have excellent support from my family and close friends.

Love you my sweet ZBOY, Kyle 
Always your ZBOYMOM

Deb Moroney

June 21, 2019

My mini ‘Me Vacation’ has given me much time to reflect on many things going on in my life and in our life as a family. So much has happened in these last 2 years that at times I feel like I’m on a roller coaster not knowing what lies ahead. Is it a hill to climb or a curve in the road or an upside-down twisting that makes one’s head spin? All of these are so unpredictable in grief and the journey that follows, and we are only just beginning. I hear so often that time heals all things however time I sure will never heal our broken hearts in the loss of our precious son, Kyle. He is still the center of my life and often the reason for my existence I believe. He was my inspiration to finish school and become something that I thought I could never accomplish. After many long talks whether sitting in the garage, at the table, in the living room, or even on the edge of his bed, we talked about life in general and what it held for each of us and how we could support one another. I know he had so many plans and dreams that will never come to light but my hope is to keep his spirit alive by doing what he did so easily and that was to help others just by being there. If there is one lesson, I learned from Kyle that is patience. He was a master at it and in all of his life, I only remember him becoming angry on 2 occasions. His level of patience was so high that I often wondered if he really understood what was going on around him but quickly found out that not only did, he knows what was going on, he often knew how to fix it. I have spent the last 4-5 days reflecting how I could fix me and gain that same level of patience he acquired so easily. I am trying my son, but for some it takes longer to learn. Life in general, work, and family events do not help however we learn from them and grow.

I did learn that I do not need to drop everything and run home to care for a family member who is sick even when that family member is my Dad. It took all the strength in the world not to cancel this vacation and drive North to visit him and help if I could. Instead I have been in touch by phone daily and keeping my family up to date as well as trying to make arrangements for his discharge. We will know more Monday. Dad ended up really sick with UTI and pneumonia almost septic and in my books that is really serious. As a former Critical Care Nurse, I was going ballistic however I also remembered that I needed a break from all stress, including family and needed to focus on myself. I knew deep down that my Mom was okay, and my brothers were there to help. Granted being in touch by phone while exploring the caves of Ruby Falls and receiving a 90-minute message did not help my anxiety in this but I did enjoy both and was able to relax. I topped the day off by going to Lookout Mountain via the Incline Railroad and just took in the beauty of God’s handiwork. I knew then that Dad was in good hands and was receiving the best care he could get and that I did not need to worry. I remembered when we were young a trip to Quincy to ride on a miniature steam locomotive. Dad loved trains almost as much as his Dad. My grandfather worked for the railroad in Quincy and retired in the 1940’s. He never lost his love for trains. I’ve never forgotten that day and after riding this unique railway car Thursday it brought back those memories. Kyle loved steam locomotives as well and we took him to see several as well. So, I guess it just runs in the family.

Roger is still and always has been my rock and my strength when I need him most. Yes, times have been strained lately but only because I have let stress get in the way. I am trying to figure a way to avoid that from now on. I have decided to make myself remember my little getaway and reflect upon it when life seems to get too burdensome. I will need to reconnect with my inner soul and regroup as you might say. I am not ready to lose what we have nor do I want to travel this journey alone. I know I could not. I need to practice my patience and communication skills with Roger and promise to do so. I am not worried about my relationship with Sami as she is all about kisses, licks and belly rubs!

In reflection of where I am today, I think I am still not ready to open the doors to the future without Kyle entirely although I know he is always with me. I am just not ready to move on from my spot where I am in my grief journey at this time. I still feel like I need to mourn his loss and am not ready to move on as yet. I am not sad by this just lonely in my heart at times. I am no longer numb to his loss; it just hurts to think of him now. I think of Kyle almost every day in everything I do. Whether driving, eating, or just watching TV. Something will trigger a memory, good or bad, and sometimes I often still cry which is okay for now. I may never change, and I am okay with that as well. This is how I am at this point and where I want to be. As I can’t make new pictures or movies with Kyle in them, my mind tries to come up with things that he would say or do at various times. I yearn to hear his voice again and know that someday I will be able to hold him again. I will hear his voice and his sweet laugh that I miss the most. As sure as the rain is falling now, I am also sure of the rainbow that will appear afterwards somewhere. Kyle’s rainbow. I’ll be watching for it.

Love, ZBOYMOM

Deb Moroney

2 years! I still can’t believe it. It only seems like the phone call came yesterday. I remember it so vividly. Just as I remember the events leading up to your time of the accident just as vividly. Kyle, where has time gone in these last two years without you? I have changed just as much as your Dad has. This grief journey has not been easy as so many of us have come to find out. We read books, listen to podcasts, talk to counselors and so many others who will just listen, that it seems that we will never find the answers we are looking for. Every time I see a memory post of you, it throws me right back to this day 2 years ago. Wishing that I could remember more, wishing that I had had more time with you, wishing that I had said something different at the time and maybe you would still be here. It’s so hard to change and move on or as some put it move forward in grief. I’m just not sure that I’m ready to move forward yet and definitely know that some days. My heart still breaks into a million pieces at just the thought of something you said or did 💔. I cry late at night or still just driving the big old “cracker” white truck that you helped us buy just a month before you were gone. Every time I see a Z I want to reach out and hug the person because it just warms my heart. I miss your beautiful Monterey Blue Z so much but not nearly as much as miss you my precious son, Kyle. You are still my life every day, my reason for living, and I’m reminded of that daily in my job. People come up to me and say things like “You were definitely cut out for this job” or “We’re so glad you are here because you know just what to say and do”. I’m not always thinking about what I’m going to say when I meet a patient or family and yet it just comes from my heart. Having been a nurse for almost 35 years I guess you could say that I’m a seasoned nurse but what I’m really doing is trying to see things from the patient’s perspective as I see life now. Life is never easy and when you lose someone so precious and dear to you, you feel numb. I just want to thank you for finding me this job and allowing me to help others as you helped so many.

I think this is how we both felt the first year. We just were trying to survive and get through all the “firsts” without you. This second year has been much harder for me in that it feels like the realness has set in and I now know that you won’t be back, but my brain and my heart aren’t ready to accept that yet. Reading through an essay your Dad, Roger, wrote for Alive Alone, was beautifully written and told your story but it also reminded me of so many memories that I never want to lose hold of. Especially the ones when you were the happiest. You can see it in the pictures that he posted but better, yet I remember talking to you about them and know how you truly felt about all of these major events in your life. The good ones and bad ones.

ZDAYZ was very special for me in that I truly feel your presence in the mountains but also from your Z car community. They have made us part of the family and I truly am honored. I sat at the dinner and deck party Friday night and the Shenanigans on Saturday night and just listened to all the laughter and could almost hear you laughing with them. Many drove past your tree that weekend but more astounding was the number of “👍KYLE MORONEY LIKES THIS” decals I saw on so many different cars from all over the US. I could never reach out to all of them and say thank you, but I wanted to. I had never realized how much I look for decals as I do now. It’s almost as if it’s my mission to see if you are there. I know I don’t need a decal to feel your presence. I definitely felt it driving home Friday night and again stopping by your tree Saturday night to watch the sun set. It was one of the most beautiful sights I have seen in a long time. Just wish my camera would have taken the pictures that I was seeing. They were spectacular!

Thank you for providing us with love, hope, guidance and reassurance that you have never left us Kyle. I can’t promise that the next year will be any easier or the ones after that, but I do promise to make sure you stay alive in everyone’s heart and mind! Keep doing those burnouts up there in the Heavens and we’ll keep watching for signs of them from here. Love you my sweet son and ZBOY, Kyle.   Forever and always, Love, ZBOYMOM 💙💙💙🐾🐾

Katie Helms

All I have are pictures left to kiss, A few of your possessions left to hold, But the treasures true, They lie down deep… Deep within my soul….You are my precious child, Your memory lives so close inside, I’ll hold you there… I love you still, You’ll always be my son, my friend, A special part of me… I see your face and you smile at me, You tease to make me laugh… I hear your songs… And your music resonates among my soul… While your words, “I love you, Mom” Echo… in every thought, of you…. Deep within my heart, my son, We can never part… Though you’ve gone to live in Heaven, In the everlasting world… A part of you remains on earth… In Me… All I have are pictures left to kiss, A few of your possessions left to hold, But the treasures true, They lie down deep… Deep within my heart and soul…. Deep inside of me….

Linda Rauckman

I rejoice my Blue-Eyed Angel to know that you’re at peace. To know your sorrows of this world and the pain you felt have ceased. I’ll bet your Dad and Papaw have already welcomed you home. What a Blessing it is to know you’re there with Him who sits on the Throne. You were given to me for 38 years by our Heavenly Father above, What an honor it was to be your Mom, it is the deepest kind of love. I find comfort in knowing I’ll see you again I know this is not the end. So, for now my Angel with all my heart my love to you I send. Mom

Pamela Masterson Ooten
Taco Burgers

Ingredients
5 lbs of hamburger meat,
2 pks of taco seasoning,
1 egg
Mix hamburger meat with the taco seasoning and egg.
Make into patties and cook until brown.
Lightly toasted hamburger buns. Place burger on bun and top with lettuce, tomato and onion (optional)
My son put salsa and sour cream on top of his burger.
Son, Hop John’s favorite

Nathan Franklin and Betty Crocker brownies.

Dakota loved chicken n dumplings and homemade sausage gravy.