LJ Herman is a former editor at Love What Matters and lives in Colorado. LJ is a concert, ticket and technology enthusiast. He has seen the Dave Mathews Band over one hundred times and counting.

LJ Herman is a former editor at Love What Matters and lives in Colorado. LJ is a concert, ticket and technology enthusiast. He has seen the Dave Mathews Band over one hundred times and counting.
“It resembles suicide, but it’s not. His bullies DARED him to do this the day before he died.”
“‘Dad says y’all are going to wrap presents.’ Huh? The LAST thing his dad and I are doing back there is wrapping—oh, wait.”
“I swear I packed Snowflake and all of her accessories Matt bought over the years to make her laugh. When I unpacked, she was nowhere to be found. I thought maybe she would forget. She did not.”
“I can’t simply say to my wife, who’s curled up in the fetal position, shaking and crying, trying to dodge your incoming blows, ‘There’s nothing to worry about.’ She knows that. But I love her harder than you’ll EVER hit her.”
“It was around 8 p.m. when I found myself crying and crawling, mostly crying, on my hands and knees in the middle of a Publix parking lot. I imagined the ring traveling the streets of Miami stuck on a tire thread.”
“I see a narrow spot on the road and suddenly I see myself losing control and our vehicle rolling over and over. I wonder if we would survive or if I would have to live with causing an accident that took my children’s lives. It keeps me up at night, makes me a wreck all day.”
“He said, ‘Ma’am, we have an unidentified man with head trauma coming in, I’m sure it is your husband.’ At that moment, I was escorted by a solemn social worker to a small, littered room. A room meant to allow family members to react to what they would tell me in private. I went downstairs to hold our daughter when she woke up. I told her in an age-appropriate manner what had happened to Daddy, and what our next step would be. She held me and calmly said, ‘I know Daddy will be okay.’ Your kids DESERVE the TRUTH.”
“I didn’t even let my now-husband look at my stomach for a YEAR. I closed my eyes and waited to hear his groan in disgust. I felt his big hand rub across my stomach.”
“‘I’m sorry, but there’s no heartbeat.’ She told me I had to deliver her, but I didn’t want to. I thought if I could keep her inside of me, if I could just keep carrying her, then maybe she’d be okay. Part of me thought they got it wrong, she’d come out crying. But she didn’t.”
“This is what it looks like coming up on my sister’s 5-year anniversary of her passing in the middle of a pandemic and cultural warfare. You see friends, this isn’t fun for us. It isn’t fun pointing out privilege and systemic racism when you see it. People hate us when we do it.”