Thumbing through the planner

As my planner gets closer and closer to the end of its pages and the need for a new one becoming more apparent, I took some time to thumb through the pages to see where the year has taken me.

My planner begins in December 2010 with things like classes and finals marking the pages along with holiday parities, reunions, and other responsibilities. Marked down on December 13, 2010 is a special Family Home Evening we had with my parents at their home in Bountiful in which we honored the one year anniversary of my brother Steven's disappearance. Also I see December 9, 2010 with these words "Grandpa Meeting with Social Worker." This day we discussed the growing tumor in my grandpa's brain and the decision not to operate meaning the inevitable was finally coming.

2011 began with a celebration of New Year's and the birthday of my cousin KC. I was unemployed, stressing about finding a job, gaining experience, completing school, and taking care of my family. But other than that there would be no signs that this year could possibly be worse than last year. Nor did I know that by the time we celebrated another 10 second count down to New Year's that my family would survive the a storm that would leave us stronger and more unified.

My planner has scribbled reminders of both the ups and downs. The good times are filled with appointments to keep, lists of things to do, and activities. Blank pages serve as reminders of the bad times when it didn't matter what I had to do the next day. February and July in particular are blank. Who can forget the day of their father's funeral? Who needs to write down the day you bury your grandfather?

Much good would come from 2011. In January I would embark on a path of internships and interviews that would ultimately lead me to August 16 the first day of  my first career job. As I look back  now how could I have known that taking an unpaid semester long internship with the mayor's office over a paid internship with the state of Utah would make all the difference?

In November black pen highlighted in orange highlighter marks the days when all the Koecher family embarked on a trip to visit my sister in Louisiana, something we probably wouldn't have thought necessary in January. This trip was really a pivotal moment for our family because we defined ourselves as a family who stays together no matter the cost, no matter the distance, and no matter how crazy it is to travel with four young kids on an airplane.

December holds one of the most significant appoints of the year for Amber and me. In addition to the press releases, the press conferences, and other hoopla regarding the 2nd anniversary of my brother's disappearance sits a quiet little date that would change our life forever. An ultrasound appointment. After a year long struggle to get pregnant, our prayers and fasting were rewarded when the doctor tells my wife the baby is doing fine.

My planner ends as it begins, with holiday parties, family reunions, and celebrating a cousins birthday. 2011 was a ride that I don't wish to go on again anytime soon, but I'm grateful for the way we came out in the end. Before you throw away your old planner take one more look and see what memories lie inside.

Oh and the next post I promise will be funny! No more of this sap stuff!

By: Dallin Koecher

It wasn't supposed to be this way

I have been thinking about the events of last week that surrounded the anniversary of my brother's disappearance and thought to myself with anguish, "It wasn't supposed to be this way."

We weren't  supposed to be lighting a tree to remember a brother, son, and uncle. We weren't supposed to have the media standing in our living room asking us questions about what we thought happened to Steve. We weren't supposed to be gathering for such a somber occasion.

Christmas wasn't supposed be a double dagger memory of a lost brother and a lost father who had fought so hard to bring his son home. My dad wasn't supposed be taken from us when it felt like we needed his strength, his resolve, and his insight the most. It wasn't supposed be to me to fill the role he left, and the role I tried to avoid for two years, because it hurt just too much to think about my missing brother.This isn't how his life was supposed to be.

It was supposed to be happy, filled with family, and absent of unanswered questions, fear of what could have happened, and the pain of loosing a loved one. We were supposed to be the quiet family down the street that didn't draw attention to themselves, that served others, and enjoyed each others company. We weren't supposed be the family that desperately tries to keep their story in the media in the hopes that someone, somewhere might come forward with information.

It wasn't supposed to be this way...

I am filled with gratitude for an amazing family who sticks by us through thick and thin. I am grateful for a family that never passes judgement, and always stands together to shoulder one anothers burdens. I am grateful for awesome friends who love us and shower us with prayers, thoughtful words, and kindness. I hate to think about how our life would be without these saintly people constantly surrounding us and encouraging us.

I am grateful for a mother whose unyielding faith stands as a beacon for all her children both missing and present to cling too. For a mother whose strength lifts the rest of us when we feel like we can no loner carry on. I'm grateful for brothers and sisters whose bond has become unbreakable and whose love for each other outshines the darkness of despair. I am grateful for a wife and child who help shape me into the man I need to be. They give meaning to a life that would otherwise be selfish and indulgent. They help me see the greatness inside.

This is how life is supposed to be.

I guess when I think about it, we're really not that far off...

By: Dallin Koecher

White Light of Hope Tree

Dear Family and Friends,


I would like to wish you all a very happy holiday season on behalf of the Rolf and Deanne Koecher bunch. With the holidays approaching our thoughts turn to our loved ones and the cherished relationships we have with each of you. As you all know December will forever be a mix of emotions for our family. As the two year mark approaches of Steven's disappearance sorrow fills our hearts as we think of our precious son, brother, and uncle. But joy and comfort swells within us as we think of all the amazing support our family and friends have brought to us.

Many of you may know that one of the last things Steven did was decorate a tree in our front yard with white Christmas lights. Well, that little tree became our "hope" tree and as long as those lights burned we always had hope that we would find Steven or find answers. The lights have burned out twice now, but our hope for Steven has not. This year we are asking all of those who know and love Steven to join us as we relight our "White Light of Hope" tree again in his memory. We encourage all of you who want to participate to light a tree in your yard with white lights and to leave it lit throughout the year as a marker of our hope and love for Steven.

On Tuesday December 13 at 7 pm we will gather at Deanne's home to relight the tree in his honor. Please come out to celebrate the life and memory of Steven.

Once again thank you for your love and support through the challenges and hardships we have face these past two years. You will never fully know how much you have strengthened us. We love you all!

By:Dallin Koecher

Koecher Family “relights” hope for Steven

Dear Friends,

We are doing a tree lighting event Tuesday at my parents house in Bountiful. Please come if you can. If can't come please light a tree in your yard as a way to remember Steven and spread hope for his return or information about his case. More details below.

Thanks,

Dallin

Bountiful, Utah – The family of missing person Steven Koecher will be honoring the two year mark of his disappearance on Tuesday, Dec. 13 at 7:00 pm as they relight the “White Light of Hope” tree at the Koecher residence in Bountiful.

“After two years and little news or updates all we have left is hope, and the lights on this tree symbolize our hope,” said Dallin Koecher, younger brother to Steven.

One of the last things Steven did before he went missing was put up white Christmas lights on a tree out front of his parent’s home. The tree became a symbol of hope for his parents, Rolf and Deanne Koecher, reminding them daily their son was missing and not to give up hope for Steven’s safe return.

The lights eventually burned out sometime during the summer months and the Koecher’s relight it on the anniversary of Steven’s disappearance. This year as the Koecher’s relight the tree they are asking friends, family and anyone who loved Steven to honor his memory by lighting “White Light of Hope” trees at their homes as well.

“We hope that when people see white trees at homes around the valley they will think of Steven and remember that his family still has hope,” said Deanne Koecher, Steven’s mother.

Everyone is welcome to come out to the Koecher residence in Bountiful on Tuesday, Dec. 13 at 7:00 pm as they relight the “White Light of Hope” tree for Steven. For more information about the event or questions please call Dallin Koecher at 801-721-7353.

Event Details
• Who: Koecher Family
• What: Relight “White Light of Hope” tree
• When: Tuesday, December 13, 2011 at 7:00 pm
• Where: 334 West 3100 South Bountiful, Utah

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Here is an article ran in the SLC Tribune today. http://www.sltrib.com/sltrib/home2/53090169-183/steven-koecher-dallin-family.html.csp

By:Dallin Koecher

A Brother Missing

It has been over four months now since we learned that our brother, son and friend, Steven Koecher went missing in the Las Vegas area. Since then our family has spent countless hours worrying and wondering about Steven. Where could he be? Why did he go down there? Why hasn't he tried making contact with us? What has happened to him? Is he alive or dead? So many questions and so little answers. It is absolutely amazing that with today's technologies that someone could go missing with out a trace of evidence.

Now four months, multiple searches, dozens of news stories and even a reward later still I don't think we are any closer to finding him then the day my dad and I went down there to search the area. Now it's time for me to express my feelings about the situation. I have been suppressing them and ignoring them and what ever else I can to do in an attempt not to feel.

Do you know what limbo feels like? I think I could tell you. Imagine the spectrum of emotion from pure joy and happiness to the deepest sorrow and pain, well for me limbo isn't on that scale at all. It's not even an emotion. It's a place where you can't feel the good or the pain. I think not feeling at all is worse then being in a pit of the deepest sorrow. At least then you know where to go from there. This whole thing has left me off the canons of normal emotion and taken me to a place I don't recognize.

I have become numb. When I talk about Steven to others I don't feel happy or sad, hopeful or doubtful, I just don't feel. It's become like talking about the weather in a forced conversation in which you try to avoid the awkwardness of silence. Meaningless. Each time some one asks me "Any news?" I go into the weather spiel. "No."

I must apologize to my family and friends who may think I am not take the gravity of the situation seriously. I'm sorry if I continue to be too jovial, or have seemed to move on, but really I hide the pain and fear of expecting the worst. I hide behind a smile, a joke, and a pretend confidence. I don't know of any other way to cope. I love my brother Steven so much. I feel like he and I always had a special bond, like we were cut from the same fabric as it were. I would call him from time to time to talk about anything and nothing, and he would do the same to me. Hearing his voice on his voice mail now that he's not a phone call away cuts deep inside of me.

So I apologize to my dear family. What you see in me now is a person coping over a missing brother. I haven't given up, but I just don't know where to go. I haven't lost hope, in the other side of the veil at least. It's in God's hands now.

Love ya Steve. By: Dallin Koecher