Pete, I really wish that I could stop thinking of you. When I think of you, I become so overwhelmed with grief for Alicia, Madeline, your parents, sisters, friends... I realize that I will never forget or stop thinking of you.
I am sad that the world lost someone like you.
I am happy that I knew you.
I don't know why you had to die so young, and daily we see those who have made less than a significant contribution to this earth laughing and loving and holding their loved ones close.
I wish I had the answers, I wish I could smile when I look at the pictures in our junior high yearbook. But all I can do is remember what a great person you were, and cry, and ask God why.
Time will help us all to mend, but the thread will be weak and fragile over the spot in our hearts you occupied.
Miss you.

Jeannette:

Your last sentence is aptly put. Some people say that time heals. Maybe there ARE people able to suffer the loss of a loved one and, over time, heal. I know as never before how helpful faith can be as a component in healing. But I have come to believe that with certain conditions, healing is simply not the operative word. We deal. We cope.

The person who loses eyes or limbs doesn’t heal from that loss, though she may learn to cope and deal with it. The Type A diabetic won’t be cured, though he can try to manage his disease carefully. People who lose loved ones don’t reverse what IS, but cope and deal with their losses as they are able.

Pete’s death has put a hole in my heart forever, figuratively speaking. It is my own emotional disorder (a mental illness of sorts) from which I see no cure. What would be the cure… no longer caring? no longer remembering? I WANT to remember him, even though remembering him sometimes comes with pain. Sometimes I feel a measure of peace about his death. There is consolation in knowing that he loved life and people; was loved and knew it; that he lived life fully (grabbing the bull by it's horns!) and died while doing something he loved.

But Maddie was four-years-old-and-several months the day her dad didn’t come home from work to go bike-riding with her. I want so much for her the ability to recall how it felt to hear his voice, hear his laugh, see his reaction… smell him, be held by him. He loved being a father, and one of the big hurts I have over Pete’s death is that he doesn’t get to finish, with Alicia, the job of rearing his little girl.

I have hoped for this website to serve several purposes: first, as therapy (even if just for myself); second, as a place where Pete’s family and friends can share… sometimes by reading, sometimes by writing or sending photos; and third, as a repository for stories and pictures that may someday help Madeline to know and understand her dad through the eyes of those who knew him.

Jeanette, what I have NOT wanted is for this website to be a source for increased pain… not to you, not to anyone. I don’t mind if i hurt; as Pete’s mother, I accept that as part of my job! But I hope that the writings here don’t make you or anyone else grieve more. You sent our family a letter that described a 7th-grade-Pete who had the character to stand up against peers on behalf a friend. The letter was a gift to us… and though I did cry as I read it, there was sweetness in the tears. You are right that the thread that mends is weak and fragile. I am often overcome in mid-sentence, unable to speak and unable to prevent the overflow of tears. But just as often… and more important… are the pictures of his smile and the memories that make me smile!

Mrs. Ober
I am sorry if the message was taken in a negative way. It IS hard to look at the pictures of Pete. We were equal once...both 12, both with the world at our feet. Our roads turned and never merged again. We both married, had kids, etc. My struggle is with understanding, and guilt.
But I want Madeline to know that the legacy of her dad is his kindness. Kindness that I NEVER forgot, even 15 years later. He was amazing.
I struggle to understand the why's. God does not have to explain, and he never promised us a life free of grief. The pictures are wonderful....I see them as a biopic of his life. Always smiling, always loving, always loved. They do make me sad. I wish Pete could be back in everyone's life.
I didn't mean to upset anyone...I just had to let Pete know that I am so happy to have known him, and still stuggling with his death.
I will never forget Pete. My sons and I pray for the Ober family in our goodnight prayers. My four year old asked, "Who is Pete Ober's family and why do we have to ask God to take care of them?"
I showed my son in my yearbook all the pictures of Pete...I told Trevor that Pete was a boy when I knew him, but he was kind and loving and so very caring, and he helped me get thru a very hard year. So helpful, that I never forgot him. Trevor said with the purity of a four year old "I'm glad he was nice to you Mommy. If he was mean, you might not be this mommy that I love."
THAT is Pete's legacy, and I love him for it.
Jeanette

Jeanette,
Your writing could never be negative... in the sense that I think of the word! As I re-read my own writing, I can see that IT has a more somber tone than I meant to convey. (I find it easier to smile when I am writing alongside pictures of Pete smiling!)

I responded to your message for Pete because I could well imagine that it might have been easier on you if you knew less of what transpired in his life after the time you last saw each other.

My local newspaper has a policy of not giving the names of those who die in military service unless there is a local connection. "You can well imagine how overwhelming it would be to see all the names," I was told by a concerned voice at The Florida Times-Union. Personally, I grieve that I live in a community which doesn't mind for others to sacrifice their lives for us, but would find it "too overwhelming" to see the names of those who make the sacrifice.

Imagine how tough it would be to deal with the casualties of life if we knew as much about each person as we know about Pete. And here we are, in this website, learning more about him from each other... knowing full well that it may hurt a little more even as we do.

Jeanette, I wouldn't for the world have you apologize for anything you have written! Still, I thank you for everything you've said. It means a great deal to me that you would write about Pete as you have. It is nice to picture the sweetness of your children and the relationship you have with them. And... you have me wanting to take a look at that yearbook! (I wonder if we have it. Boxes in the attic have so many possibilities! If he did have that book, I am sure it is up there, waiting to be found... I'll let you know.)