The Seven Year Journey

Facebook memories are a two edged sword. They remind us of the happy, funny, wonderful memories....sweet things the kids have said, times with friends, what our life was like looking back....but they also remind you of the hard things...the things that broke your heart.

Sometimes memories just pop up and smack you right in the face! Today is one of those days.

I always remember the day that Michael went to Heaven....that was the day that the rest of my life was changed, but I didn't remember that today was the day we laid him to rest, the day I had to let go of his hand and go home without him forever.

It's been 7 years. I didn't stop loving him, I haven't stopped missing him, but I've lived and breathed and accomplished things. The pain is not up in my face every moment of every day now. But, there are still those things that bring that pain back to me momentarily, and full force. Today, Facebook is that thing!

Looking back at the pain I was experiencing on this day 7 years ago, I'm still not sure how I survived it? I'm not even sure I WANTED to survive. The pain was so intense that my mind couldn't even wrap itself around it. The pain was physical....it bent me over from the pain in my gut, my throat hurt from holding in the screams. The palms of my hands bled from clinching my fists until my fingernails pierced the skin. Until you've experienced the pain of being separated from the person you love...you can't begin to fathom what I'm talking about. It is the most alone you will ever be.

Because I'm a Christian and I love Jesus, I felt even more alone when my anger at God became unbearable! He brought this beautiful man into my life. The man I prayed for and about before I had met him. I prayed for him, his family and friends and my family....that they would accept us and love us as their own. I prayed about this man more than I have ever prayed about anyone other than my own children. I prayed over this man and gave thanks for him every single night before I went to sleep. Every night, I said "Thank you, Lord for this man that you have given me as my husband". Every single night! And then He took him back? Bad form, Lord, BAD form! And then, my anger and my separation were complete!

I was alone. I was in pain. I was dying inside just a little more every day and I had no one to cry out to in the midst of this horrible darkness!!!!

I truly believe that it was the prayers of others and God's unfailing love that held me and led me back into the light. Now I know that I was never truly alone, I was never lost. I simply needed to reach out, open my eyes and take a step forward!

In seven years, I've taken many baby steps...some I took forward and some I took backwards. I think each of those steps was important in rebuilding, in becoming what God needs me to be for my future and His plans. Some of those steps were like walking barefoot over the coals, but I know that through the most painful steps, God carried me and shielded me. And part of my Journey is learning how not to be "hand shy" of God. After He took Michael home, He took our baby Cash. And every day, I live in fear that He will take another part of my heart to Heaven.

Part of these baby steps is learning that Michael's journey and Cash's journey were not about me. I was there, and it hurt so much! But it was about their journey!. Part of my journey is learning that God didn't take them FROM me...he allowed me to be with them through this part of their journey! God put us in each other's lives to bless us!

Michael added things to my life that will stay with me for the rest of my own. My love of certain types of music, baseball, the family and friends that he loved and that I now love as my own family. Those things were my blessing. Michael knew that he was loved for the rest of his life. He always told me that he would rather the last part of his life be the best and not the first part of his life....because he had the rest of his life to love and be loved and to look forward to. That was Michael's blessing.

People seem to think that you "get over" the loss of a spouse, or parent or other loved one. You hear that so often..."it's time for you to move on". But honestly, you don't get over it and you don't "move on" because you never forget. Love is energy, it is emotion and love doesn't go away...ever. Love exists of it's on volition. But you heal. Your heart doesn't remain shattered forever. You learn to walk forward and if God has it in your future, your heart grows and allows you to love once again.

The capacity to love a spouse who has been gone for seven years, the ability to hold a child in your heart that you only knew for 2 1/2 mos, does not make you a broken person. It does not mean that you never moved on. The fact that you hold all that love, that you have kept them in your heart for years...doesn't mean you're "stuck", it means that you love fiercely, that you have a huge capacity for love. That you love unconditionally.

Seven years ago, I could not have accepted that any part of Michael's death was not about me or that it was a blessing to have had him in my life...even for such a short time when I wanted him to stay for the rest of MY life. Seven years ago, I couldn't admit that there really is healing or that there was a future without my Michael. And I couldn't have understood how it was possible to still love someone, miss them like crazy, grieve for them, and yet have a whole other part of me that wants to be happy, wants to laugh and plan and celebrate God and His goodness. I never would have believed it....because my heart and my mind weren't ready at the beginning of the journey, but now, through mercy and grace....I can find joy in life and know that my Michael has complete joy in his life right now. I will see my Baby Boy again.

“Let me not be dead while I am still alive.” Six years later.....

Dear Michael,
Today marked six years since we celebrated your "home going".  Your funeral.  Laid you to rest.  UGH....so many ways of saying that six years ago today you were buried and I died.

I couldn't go to the cemetery on your "angelversary" this year because I went out of state to watch my grandson graduate from High School.  At first, I almost chose not to go...I actually panicked at the thought that I wouldn't be here to sit at your grave on that day.  But I know you never would Have wanted me to do that....so I went.  After all, he will only graduate High School once and you will be there for eternity.  I guess visiting on the anniversary of your funeral will have to do this year.

When I got to the cemetery,  I saw there were cars all lined up outside the funeral home.  I said a prayer for the family as I drove past the chapel on my way to  your grave.  When I got to you, I saw that the funeral would be taking place right in your "neighborhood".    I decided to stay.

I sat next to you on the grass.  The weather had cooled enough to be bearable sitting in the sun.  I put on some music and just kind of lost myself in my memories of you.  After awhile, I saw the Soldiers arrive in Uniform (they would present the flag to the widow) and the VFW men arrived to fire the three volley salute.  The deceased was a fallen soldier.

I watched the mourners arrive.  There weren't many, but they all looked to be so young.  Was it a young man or was it an older man who was the father and grandfather of all those in attendance?  I watched as they all tried to fit  under the tent.  I couldn't hear what was said, but I could feel it in my heart.

I was transported to that day six years before when we all gathered to say goodbye to  you.  The cemetery was filled with all the people whose lives you had touched.  You were so loved by so many.

The sound of the gunshots shook me from my memories and I saluted this fellow soldier.  I cried at the mournful sound of the bugler playing taps.  And I prayed.  I prayed for this new widow.

I prayed that this widow would find comfort and peace as she grieved.  I prayed that she would find understanding from those around her and that they would be patient with her. I prayed that she would know when it was time to start taking care of herself again.  That she would know that even though she needed to grieve to heal, that she also needed to take care of herself.  I prayed that she would not be dead while she was still alive.

You see, I know that I died with you that day.  The person I was went with you.   I let her go, willingly.  My biggest mistake was in not fighting to live.  I just quit that day.  I quit taking care of myself.  I quit trying to make myself get up and move.  I quit remembering that I was important too...that I still had a life to finish.

I think that it's so common for widows to give up.  Grief is hard.  But, grief itself can become a comfort.  I'm comfortable with grieving.  It's like an old friend.  The only thing it requires of me is to be miserable.  I don't have to take any chances.  There is no rejection in grief.  There is no hope, so there is no disappointment. We confuse "grieving" with "loving".  We will never stop loving our spouses, but somehow, we have to learn to stop grieving.  I have grieved too long.  And yet, I have no idea how to turn lose.

My grief has ruined my body.  I don't mean I no longer look good in a swimsuit....I mean, my body no longer functions properly because I neglected myself so badly.  The weight I gained, coupled with scar tissue from an old surgery, literally pulled my vertebra out of alignment and I can barely walk or stand without pain.  The day you died, I was power washing the deck and climbing on ladders....now I am riding in a cart at the grocery store.

My grief has aged me.  I look at my pictures from only 6 years ago and then look at my face and I've aged 15 years!  My grief has taken my joy.  My grief has made me an angry person.  My grief has made me question my faith.  My grief has made me less tolerant.  My grief has kept me from living.  My grief has allowed me to be dead while I'm still alive.

I prayed that this new widow would not grieve too long.  I prayed that she would open her heart and allow herself to love and be loved again.  I prayed that she would take control of her sadness and fight against it!

I have watched as some of my widow friends have accomplished great things since their husband's and wives died.  Some have gotten college degrees, started businesses, found new love, gotten married, had babies.  Some have traveled, started new careers, raised children.  I am just so amazed by their strength.   They give me hope and joy.  They are living!!!

The mourners left the grave site a few at a time and the widow, carrying her flag, slowly left her life behind to go and begin her life anew.

I pray that she will not be dead while she is still alive.

Five Years Without You

My Dearest Michael,

I sit and watch the clock.  Thinking about what we were doing five years ago.  How is it that I can't remember what I did yesterday, but I can remember every moment from five years ago?

Tonight, it has been five years since I slept next to you.  Seventeen hours from this moment, five years ago, you would be gone.

The years seem to have gone by in a blur.  There are good times, sad times, scary times.  There are times I laughed and times I've cried....oh how I've cried!  There have been times I think that I don't know how to "do this".  Times that I have felt strengthened and times that I have been so weak.  But through it all, I have missed you.  I have loved you every moment of every day for almost 10 years now.  You have officially been gone from my life for the exact amount of time that you were in it in flesh.

Grief has been a surprise to me.  I never expected it to be this way.  How could I have known that after 5 years, I would still love  you, still grieve for you?  I don't grieve today the way that I grieved in the beginning.  Oh, Sweetie, the pain was so bad!  And it wasn't just bad once in a while...it was the most painful thing I've ever experienced and it was 24 hours a day, seven days a week.  Other widows told me that it wouldn't always hurt that bad, that my heart would heal.  I didn't believe them.  Surely, they just didn't understand how much I loved you and how broken I was.  They didn't know that you were the love of my life.  How could they possibly understand that I felt like I would die from the pain of losing you?

But, they were right.  

Gradually, ever so gradually, I learned to get through the days and then the days grew into weeks and months and years.  The ugly cry came less often.  I learned to find a little joy again.  I learned that I could go a day without crying and it didn't mean I'd already "gotten over" you (guilt).  I learned that grief was not linear.  I could have a "good" day and people would say "oh, you're doing so well" and the next day, I could be in a heaping sobbing mess that lasted through the night.  I learned that I will NEVER "get over you".

There is no such thing as "getting over", "moving on", or any of the other euphemisms that people use that are supposed to mean you are "over it".  You don't "get over" a person that you love.  You don't "move on"with life like you've packed up and moved into another house.  And you never, ever "get over" missing a person who was everything to you.  And why would anyone expect us to?  You were here, you mattered, you loved me.  So, no, you don't "move on"...but rather you grow and expand to allow  yourself new experiences and joy.

I tell the new widows and widowers to just breathe.  Put their feet on the floor and take a breath and that's all you have to do for the moment.  If you can keep breathing, keep standing up, the pain will eventually be less sharp.  That with time, that horrible, painful 24 hours a day, 7 days a week ugly cry will come less and less often. I tell them that grief is ever-changing.  It tries to consume you one minute, and becomes a not so distant memory the next.

Being a widow is complicated.  We constantly deal with opposing forces.  Conflicting feelings.  We become locked in the the emotional reasoning of a hurting heart.  We are the "married un-married".  We fell in love for life.  Not the rest of our spouse's life...but for the rest of ours.  Our marriage didn't end because of "irreconcilable differences".  We didn't just "grow apart".  We were in the middle of loving and being committed to someone when that someone was suddenly gone. That part takes a very long time to sort out.  There is guilt when we date, guilt when we THINK about dating.  There are all the "comparisons".  "My husband did it this way, my husband liked this, my husband was so handsome, my husband treated me like a queen" and then we're angry at all other men because THEY ARE NOT YOU.  But then there is loneliness. 

There is big, ugly, dark, loneliness.  There are all those nights spent alone, missing  you.  There are the events that we attend as a "plus one"...you know, with our friends who are a married couple, and you get to tag along with them?  There is loneliness watching a child reach a milestone and you're not there to see it.  There is loneliness when we're sick and no one is there to run to the store and say "poor muchacho".  And the loneliness causes sadness.  

And anger!  Oh, the anger at being lonely, but being lonely for the one person that could never again fill that void.  Anger that could bite the head off a roaring lion.  Anger that comes from the pit of your stomach and spews out all over everyone.  Anger at you for leaving, Anger at God for taking you.  Anger at happy couples because you no longer have that.  Anger at the universe because life is just NOT FAIR! 

 If life were fair, you would still be here with me.  If life were fair, there would be no widows and widowers.  If life were fair, we would be raising our little guy together, sharing reading glasses and pretending not to notice the wrinkles on each others face and hands.  If life were fair, I would be spending Memorial Day grilling hot dogs and making ice cream and planning a summer full of ball games and drive in movies and watermelon and the farmer's market.  If life were fair Memorial Day would be a holiday, not the day that I count the years that you've been gone!  If life were fair, I would not have to face this reality.

Not too  long ago, I got hit square in the face with a grief "wave".  That's one of those times that grief just rares up, knocks you down and tries to drown you.  My friend, Cindie, always says "just keep swimming, you'll get through this", and I always remember her words when I'm paddling for my life.

The day the last grief wave hit, I had been at the cemetery.  I was missing you so very, very much.  And the ugly cry came and I just cried my heart out.  I remember sitting in my car in the store parking lot and praying "God, if I have to spend the rest of my life hurting this bad, if this is all there is, all I have to look forward to, please God, please just take me home because I just can't stand this another single minute".  

I started the car to leave, and God, who had seemed so distant for so very long, answered me in such a very real way.  Just at that moment, when I turned on the car, a song I had never heard began to play!  

"you're shattered, like you've never been before,
 the life you knew, in a thousand pieces on the floor.  
Words fall short in times like these, 
when this world drives you to your knees, 
you think you're never going to get back to the you you used to be.  
Tell your heart to beat again 
open up and breathe it in, 
let the shadows fall away 
and step into the light of Grace.  
Yesterday's a closing door,
 you don't live there anymore,
 say goodbye to where you've been 
and tell your heart to beat again".

I knew in that moment that God had answered.  He still loved me and He still needed me to take a breath and put my feet on the ground another day.  God didn't take my pain away, He didn't show me the plans He has for my life.  He just said "breathe and put  your feet on the floor".  

So, my Sweet Michael, we're apart for a while longer.  I pray that God will allow me to be useful in this time that we're apart.  I pray that I can fulfill the plans He has for me during this time.  I know that "all things come to good for those who love the Lord and are called according to His purpose".  I know that God can use our suffering for His good.

I have grieved for you for 5 years now, Baby.  My love for  you has never changed.  Grief is just love that misses someone.

Widows and Romance

My Dear, Sweet Michael,

It's been 3 years and 8 1/2 months since I last saw your beautiful face.  How do I even begin to tell you all that these years have been?  There's been heart ache, there's been laughter,  There have been more births and there have been more deaths.  I have made friends, lost friends, been a friend and sometimes not.

I have changed in this time Michael.  In some ways I have lost parts of me.  You took those parts with you.  I've also gained parts that I never knew I was capable of having.  The biggest surprise was that I survived the loss of you.  I never thought I was strong enough to survive something like this...but, here I am.  I'm still alive.  I'm still raising children and trying to be the woman that God created me to be.

Baby, when you were alive, you were my everything.  And for so many years since you've been gone, you remained my everything.  In my heart, I was still your wife.  Somewhere inside of me, I think I have held on to the belief that you will come home again...that I will wake up and you will be back and you will say "wow..you waited for me all these years...you really did love me, didn't you"?

The truth is, Michael, you won't be coming back.  It hurts even now to admit that to myself.  You really aren't coming home again.  I still believe that I will hold you again in Heaven, but you will never join me in this life again.  From the day I married you, I fulfilled my wedding vows in every way, every day.  I honored those vows not only until death parted us, but for all these years since then.

There have been times I was lonely....so very, very lonely.  But, even in my loneliness, it felt as if I would somehow be cheating if I were to move forward in my life.  To even entertain the thought of loving someone again.  For allowing another person to be in my life.  It hurt me to the core of my soul to think about.

The thing is, Michael, when you left, the love I had for you didn't leave.  I am as in love with you today as I was the day you married me.  I was left here on this earth, still loving, still wanting to be loved.  I was left here on this earth with all the needs of a living woman..but without the husband who was meant to fulfill those needs.

So many times, friends and family have encouraged me to move on.  To stop grieving.  Stop wasting my life, but like the Bible says "for everything, there is a season".  I had to wait until my season.

It's such a strange and confusing place I find myself in, Michael.  Trying to tell my heart that it's okay to love one man with everything in me, and yet telling myself that it's okay to make room in my heart to love someone else.  It kind of goes against everything I ever believed in.  So, I'm trying to re adjust my feelings, trying to wrap my mind around it all.

I have recently begun to date.  It's so scary, Baby!  I'm middle aged, over-weight, a single parent and a grieving widow!  Wow!  What a resume for a potential date!  LOL!  I worry about getting hurt, I worry about how to fit the children into a dating situation, I worry about bringing someone into our home and I worry if they would be good to the kids?  Is there even a man out there that can measure up to the very high standards that you have set?

No one can ever take your place, Michael.  You will always be the love of my life.  I will never forget you or stop loving you...ever!  But, Baby, I've got to admit..it feels good to have someone hold my hand.  It's nice to have someone tell me that I'm beautiful, to put their arm around me.  It's been so many years since I've known what it was like to have someone sit close to me.  To feel the warmth of another human being.  And Baby, I have missed that so much!

I went to your grave on Valentine's Day.  I covered your grave in rose petals and I talked to you about this man.  I asked you to understand.  I asked you to let me know that it's okay.  I asked you to watch over me and our little guy and to guide me in this new and scary world.

And even as I try to move forward, there are days that moving forward brings back those waves of grief.  It brings back the anger of losing  you...because I shouldn't even have to be concerning myself with this..I found my forever guy, and that was supposed to be for the rest of my life!

But, I've had 3 years and 8 1/2 months of practice surviving those waves.  I've learned to swim, Baby! And so I pick myself up, dry myself off and take one more step into the new world that I have been thrown into.  I walk forward believing that each wave washes away some of the pain and leaves just a little more healing in it's place.

Help me through this, Michael.  And always know that I'll never forget you.

I love you, Baby Boy.

g

All things pumpkin

Now is the season for all things pumpkin!  I LOVE fresh pumpkin.  There once was a time that I thought fresh pumpkins were for carving and making pretty fall decorations from.  The thought of actually taking a fresh pumpkin and turning it into anything edible was...well...frightful!  

Then I found out how easy it really is to cook a pumpkin and I fell in love with FRESH pumpkin.  All canned pumpkin is now forever forbidden from my kitchen.  As soon as pumpkin season is in full swing, you will find me at the city market dragging a cart full of pumpkins to my car.  I covet the pumpkins and usually buy them in bulk.

Now, let me explain..not all pumpkins were created equally.  There are those big yellow pumpkins that you see at the grocery store that make wonderful jack o lanterns....these are NOT the pumpkins we will be baking with.  What you want is a much smaller PIE pumpkin!  They have a higher sugar content and are well....more pumpkinny!  Those are the pumpkins we want.

I've had quite a few people tell me that they have no idea how to cook a pumpkin and turn it into something they can use in their favorite pumpkin recipe, so here is my pictorial guide.

First, get your pie pumpkin and cut it into chunks.  I use an ice cream scoop to remove the seeds.  You will then place your steamer (see the picture) into a pot with enough water to come up to the bottom of the steamer.  

Place  your wonderful chunks of beautiful, orange pumpkin into the pot.  I put as much in there as I can and still be able to put the lid on tight.  You want to steam the pumpkin, not boil it.  So, a medium to low heat is all that's needed.  Steam the pumpkin until a knife easily goes through the pumpkin shell.

Next, lay the pumpkin out to cool.

You will have plenty of time to do other things while your pumpkin is cooling (including just smelling that wonderful pumpkin aroma).  I decided to make some Greek chicken and paint the inside of my bake ware cabinet (cause yes, I'm just crazy like that).

So, once the pumpkin has cooled so that you can handle it, I use a serving spoon and just scrape the pumpkin flesh out of the shell.  It just comes right out (don't get too aggressive or you'll be picking pieces of the shell out of your pumpkin).  

Some people discard the stringy fibers, but I don't want to waste one bit of the pumpkin and it cooks up anyway.  When you have scraped the pumpkin out, you should have a shell that looks like this:  

Best of all, you will have a bowl full of wonderful, orange pumpkinny goodness that looks like this:

I then use my potato masher to blend it.  You could also use your food processor or blender, but I kind of like the little chunks of pumpkin.  

Now just look at this wonderful pumpkin!  It's ready to use in any of your favorite recipes.  I freeze it in zip lock bags in 1 or 2 cup quantities.

See how easy that is!  Once you use fresh pumpkin, you will wonder why you ever wasted your money on canned pumpkin.  Just look what I made with it today!

Pumpkin cake with cream cheese frosting covered in chocolate ganache!!!

Oh, and the greek chicken?

The Wedding Anniversary-widow style

Happy Anniversary, Michael.

Today is our 6th wedding anniversary.  I have officially celebrated twice as many without you as I celebrated with you.

I haven't written for awhile because, well, life seems to be going forward.  Not that you are ever far from my thoughts..just that, well, it's life.

I've worked so hard to get myself into a "happy" place.  I spent lots of time with the grandkids this summer, I've been working on the house, and I even managed to take a little vacation for myself...grown up style.  Oh, how I needed those days away from everything.  I had forgotten who I am when I'm not a widow, a mother, a grandmother.  I had forgotten that I can have real face to face conversations with other women and actually laugh out loud!

I feel like I'm finally getting my act together, Baby.  I'm being dependable, being "in the moment" (instead of in the past), I've been setting goals and accepting social invitations.  I've even started cooking and keeping the house again.  I've been busy reclaiming my life from that ravenous monster, "Grief".

So, with this anniversary coming up (as much as I tried to ignore it, I always had one eye on that calendar), I was determined that I would not turn lose of my hard won emotional health.  I decided that I didn't want to spend the whole day crying.  I feel like the little Dutch Boy with his finger in the dam-if I give just a little bit, I'll drown.  So, I kept my finger in the dam today.

I actually tried to pretend that I wasn't too concerned about it being our anniversary, so I painted (it looks really nice, but you would hate it because I painted the wood work).  And on the outside, I looked very calm and nonchalant...just painting....wiping up spills, dipping my brush in the paint, yelling at the dog to get his nose out of the paint bucket, but inside-inside I would find myself thinking "this time 6 years ago, I was having my hair and make  up done", "this time 6 years ago, we were delivering gifts to the hotel for our out of town guests", "this time six years ago, I was ecstatic at the thought that I would soon be marrying the love of my life.

For the past three anniversaries, I've dressed up, taken a bottle of champagne and candles and music to the cemetery.  I worked days on making the perfect flower arrangement.  I would go to your grave alone, light the candles, drink the champagne and cry.  Just flat out cry my heart out.  I didn't want to do that this year...I just couldn't, Baby.  So, I threw on some non paint stained clothes, grabbed your little guy, ran by Wal Mart (yeah, yeah, I know..you HATE Wal Mart, but you're just going to have to deal with it this year..it's beside the point)got some pretty white roses, grabbed subway sandwiches for me and the kid and we headed to the cemetery.

I used to feel so drawn to your grave, Baby.  I think a part of me kept thinking that I would find you there.  I don't know how many hours I've spent at your grave, but I tell people that I'll feel right at home when they finally lay me beside you.  I no longer feel drawn to that place...now it's become a reminder (as if there aren't hundreds of those every day) of what I've lost.  A place where we put your body when  your soul went to be with Jesus.  I feel you more here at home now.

Tru and I had our picnic sitting on your grave and then we cleaned your headstone and he went to put pennies on the graves of soldiers while you and I "talked".  I asked you if you were sad that I wasn't crying today.  I tried to explain to you how much I love you, but I'm trying so hard to survive in this world without you and if I allowed myself, I'd be right back in the pit where I've spent the last 3 years.  Then I turned on "our song" and I closed my eyes and I danced with you.  I just let the world go away as I held you close in my arms and we danced the way we did 6 years ago.  When the dance was over, Tru came running up and I asked him if he would like to dance with me and Popi.  He smiled real big and he and I (and you) slow danced to "The Dance".

Once again, I told you goodbye.  I told you that I will always love you.  That no matter what, never forget how much I love you.

As we got in the car, I swore I heard your voice in my head telling me "I'm sorry, G".  I know you are, Baby.  I love  you and I'll see you soon.  Just wait for me, okay?

And now, there are tears.

I Am Not Alone

My Dear Michael,

Today I have been widowed for one day longer than we were married.  I knew that this day was coming and I am not sure what it means?  It feels surreal, empty, sad.

When we got married, our vows said "until death us do part".  To  you, I said "I will love you for the rest of my life".  I didn't say "until you die".

Our life together was huge.  It was deep and big and it filled me up.  My dreams were fulfilled in  you.  And I remember saying "this is enough..for the rest of my life..this is enough".

As I look back on this time, both with and without you, I can't help but compare.  Those years and months with you were full of laughter and love.  Our love seemed to grow in ways that I never imagined.  There was a special sweetness, a sense of two old souls that had searched a lifetime for their missing hearts and were finally at home, complete.

We belonged together.  Our love seemed to fulfill a promise.  A promise that was older than time.

The time without you has been one of searching.  You both grounded me and gave me wings.  Since you've been gone, my heart has been like a bird trapped inside a glass house..trying desperately to take flight, but instead, banging against the glass over and over, in a futile attempt to reach the sky.  I have looked for you everywhere...in your letters, in the faces I see out in the world, in my dreams.  I have never stopped looking for you, Michael.  Because without you, there has been no freedom, I no longer feel complete.

I really thought that by now, I would be ready to try again.  To be open to finding love once again, building a life.  I really believed that.  I have watched as others have opened their hearts again and I rejoice with each story of  new love.  I've tried to date a couple of times, but no one else can live up to the legacy of love that you gave me.  No one else can be you, no one else is able to fill the space that you left.

One thing I never counted on, was that I could love you more deeply as time passed.  I thought that with time, our connection would be broken or faded.  Instead, I have found that it's become stronger.  I dreamed of  you one night.  You held me in  your arms and you whispered in my ear, over and over,  "Never let go, just never let go".

My grief has changed in this 2 years and 9 months.  The rawness has gone.  I laugh and I do things with our little guy.  I work and I also work hard at becoming "whole" again..finding happiness.  I pray often and hard for God to heal my brokenness.  To be healed from the loss of you.

My mom told me recently that she had watched her grandmother and her mother grieve their lives away and she didn't want to watch her daughter do that too.  That surprised me.  I thought I was doing such a good job at putting my life back in order.  The truth is, Michael, more than anything, I  understand how that can happen-how you can love someone so much that you can never, ever let go.

The love that I had with you was a once in a lifetime, bigger than Heaven and Earth love.  It was a love that can never be replaced or duplicated.  I don't know if God has something or someone in store for me.  I pray that if He does, He will open my heart to it.

But, Baby, if not, I know that what I had with you is enough.  We were enough to last me a lifetime.  And if the payment for that love is this grief, than it is grief well spent.

Today, as I was getting out of the car, this song was playing on the radio.  I listened to it until the radio shut off.  It made me realize that I'm really not alone.  You went before me, but you've never left me.  Three hours later, when I got back into the car and turned the radio on..this song was playing again, and it picked up at the exact point where it had left off earlier.  I am not alone.

Just Let Me Cry

Dear Michael,

I haven't written for a very long time.  It's not that I haven't thought of you, because I think  of you every minute of every day.  It's not because you're no longer important to me or that I don't have a million things to say to you, it's just because I'm still struggling, and maybe I just don't want you to know how much, after 2 1/2 years, I still struggle.

When you died, if someone had asked me honestly how long I thought grief would take, I probably would've said "One year.  I should be better and back on my feet in one year".  It's not that I thought I wouldn't think of you, or miss you, but I really thought that one year was enough to get over the heart ache.

Now, I know..it just doesn't happen like that, Baby.  The pain changes, it gets lighter and there are some good days thrown in there, but the grief stays.  You just learn to live around it.  There are days that I'm hopeful and think that maybe I'm ready to move on..but then I realize that by moving on, I'm still just searching for you.

When you were here, we were always so busy.  Remember when I told you that time was going so fast because we were so happy, and maybe we ought to try to be a little more miserable, to slow down the time so that the end wouldn't come so quickly?

Now, my days seem to go by in a blur.  I'm always so busy on the outside, so many things to do, but I just don't have the same attitude.  I've lost my joy.  I struggle through days like I'm walking through quick sand.  I wake up and think "I need to clean the house and get laundry done today".  Then it hits me...why?  Tomorrow is the same as today.  I don't have a reason to hurry and get anything done.

I struggle a lot, Michael.  I struggle emotionally, financially, physically.  I struggle with loneliness.  I have never felt so alone in my life.  You were my "person" and now you're gone.  I  struggle with sadness and fear and anger.  I miss you Michael.

You changed my life in so many ways.  You were my "golden years".  I was so happy with you.  I was so fulfilled, and I had so much joy.  I looked forward to you coming home from work.  I looked forward to our weekends and crawling in bed at night to sleep next to you.  You brought everything I'd ever hoped for into my life.  When you left, Michael, you took it all with you.

Now that you are gone, there is no one here to protect me.  No one to protect me from being taken advantage of, no one to protect me from the loneliness or the dark days.  There is no one here that is in love with me.  No one to help me be a parent, to fix things when they break.  There is no one to touch my face or to tell me I'm beautiful when I feel everything but beautiful.

I try really hard to encourage others and to encourage myself as well.  I will keep fighting and keep breathing and keep putting my feet on the floor even on those days that I feel like giving up, because life really is worth living.  I will keep saying "fine" when people ask me how I am and I will keep choosing to believe that I really am "fine", until the day that it's the truth.

So, I guess the reason that I haven't written in so long, is because really, no one should have to know what it's really like in the day of a widow.  Life shouldn't be about thinking of death and sadness.  And who knows...tomorrow may be the day that I wake up and am excited to get the laundry done...but for now..just let me cry.  Let me cry so that all the sadness and the loneliness and grief can work themselves out of my heart.  Let me cry because today, I miss you so much.

Two years-does it ever get easier?

Dear Michael,

Two years have come and gone since you died.  It has been the hardest two years of my life, but it has also been two years filled with amazing gifts and growth and love and loss.

As I look back over these past two years, I realize that yes, I have survived.  I was not a willing participant in my survival-at least not at first.  But, somehow life and the love of friends and family pulled me forward one day at a time.

This has been a journey in faith...having it, losing it, finding it again.  It has been a journey in self confidence.  Yes, I lived alone before I met  you (when I used to tell you that I couldn't live without you, you'd ask "well, what did you do before you met me"?) but that was before I allowed myself to lean on a partnership and love affair that was beyond my wildest imagining.

Two years ago, I could barely breathe.  The pain was so deep and so intense, that it literally took all my energy just to breathe, to keep the horror of losing you from driving me insane.  Today, I'm actually finding my strength again.  Part of that strength comes from you, part of it comes from a place inside myself that I didn't know existed.

There is not a single morning that I wake up without you on my mind, or a solitary night when I go to bed without you being my last thought.  And even in my dreams, you are with me.  Sometimes I feel your presence so strongly, that I catch myself picking up the  phone to call you, or thinking that you'll be home from work any minute.  Sometimes, I feel you so near to me, that it's almost physical.

Death has not kept you from me, Michael.  It has not kept us apart in my heart, only your physical self is gone.  Two years of you being gone has shown me that love exists because it simply IS.  Death did not destroy a love that is so deep, so pure and so good, that it bonded us into one spiritual person.

I think that you would be proud of the things I've accomplished in this two years that I have spent in the desert.  I encourage the widows in my group to list twenty four things that they have accomplished in the twenty four months that their spouse has been gone.  So, I'm going to list twenty four things that I never imagined I could accomplish, to remind myself, that yes, I am doing this damn thing!

I love you so much, Baby Boy.  And, I am so glad that I will never have to say "goodbye" to you again.  I look forward to saying "Hello Again" and I know that next time, it really will be forever.

My Twenty Four Accomplishments  

1. I planned and lived through your funeral.
2. I woke up every day and put my feet on the ground.
3. I have managed to pay the bills and haven't had anything repossessed or turned off.
4. I have continued to attend church and make sure that Tru attends.
5. I started a second stage support group for widows that now number 96 members.
6. I have published this blog which now has almost 8,000 views in over 17 countries.
7. I have gotten Tru through Kindergarten and First Grade.
8. I have buried my grandchild.
9. I have cared for, and buried my brother in law.
10. I have attended the births of almost 40 babies.
11. I quit smoking.
12. I gained 50 lbs and have lost 12 of them.
13. I have handled family problems, kid problems and friend problems.
14. I have washed somewhere around 500 loads of clothes.
15. I have fed Tru over 725 dinners.
16. I have attended the funeral of your best friend's wife.
17. I have developed friendships with people who were strangers 2 years ago.
18. I have taken care of car repairs, appliance repairs and home repairs.
19. I have rented the farm.
20. I have planted flowers.
21. I have placed flowers that I arranged, on your grave every Holiday and special occasion.
22. I have taken Tru on a plane ride, a train trip, a car trip.
23. I have become a faculty member and educator for the world's larges childbirth organization.
24. I have loved  you every single day.       

So, to answer my question....does it ever get easier?  Yes, Baby, it does.....it's always there, the loss is always going to be there....but I think that what happened is, I have changed.  I have learned to live with the loss of you, cry when I need to, talk to friends when it gets hard, and to pick myself up and add to this list.

Living Until I'm Alive Again

Dear Michael,

Tomorrow, it will be 23 months.  It gets harder and harder to write these letters to you, Sweetie.  Sometimes it feels like I don't have anything new to say..just a repeat of all those things I've already said to you so many times in the past (almost) two years that you've been gone.

Remember, before we got married, I told you that my love for you was independent of you?  My love was not contingent on whether you loved me back, that my love for you had a life of it's own...it just simply was?  I have loved you without having seen your face, without having heard your voice, without so much as a touch, I have loved you with a love that simply is, for (almost) two years and I have missed you every single moment of that (almost) two years.

Sometimes I wonder, if you came back today, would you recognize me?  I feel as if the person I was, left with you, and I'm an entirely different person now.  I look back at who I was and the things I did, and I compare that person to who I am now..and Baby, I hardly recognize myself.  Grief just takes a whole lot out of a person, you know?

Before you left, I was always so busy.  I always had something going on, something to do.  I had projects and plans and goals to meet.  Now, I still try to stay busy, but it's not the same.  Two years ago, I was up and dressed, had the house cleaned and was out the door by 10:30 a.m.  Now, well, sweetie, I haven't changed out of my pajamas since I put them on last night, and it's now time to go back to bed again.

But, it's not always like that!  I have really good days...days when I wake up full of energy, I take the bull by the horns and I get the day going.  And sometimes, I have five or six or even seven of those good days in a row.  And then a grief "wave" hits out of the blue and just knocks me right onto my grieving behind.

Tuesday was like that.  The day started out like an average "(almost) two years" day.  I got Tru off to school. I had plans. I straightened up the house and then I sat at the computer to check in on my friends and for some reason, I decided to watch our dance videos.

Oh, Baby...there  you were!  You were alive and laughing and talking.  One of us would laugh and the other one of us would reach out and put a hand on the other one's shoulder.  We would stand together, waiting for the music to start and I would kiss your neck.  I could taste that kiss watching the video.  We looked so in love and so happy.  I reached out and tried to grab you out of the computer.  I just wanted to BE in that video once again.  And when the video ended...you died again.

It had been a long time since I had a visit from my friend the "ugly cry", but oh my gosh, when it comes, it comes with a vengeance.  The painful, wracking sobs, the feeling that you can't get your breath, the pain in your chest as your heart is squeezed mercilessly...I had forgotten the intensity of the ugly cry, but yet, it was almost like an old friend had come to visit.

I miss you every day, Michael.  But, life seems to happen-.time marches on, so they say.  I haven't found the courage to dream of finding love again, I'm still too in love with you to be ready for that.  Sometimes, I think my future looks bleak..I don't see a way out of days and more days like this one, spread out endlessly in my future.  I often wonder if this will be the way the rest of my life goes...alone, struggling, missing you?

But, I am an optimist.  I know that God will not leave me in this place.  I know that I have a future and I know He holds tomorrow.  I've learned after (almost) two years, that I will feel better again.  The waves come crashing into me, but by now I know, that the waves also go back to where they came from.  And if you've ever sat on a beach and watched the waves, you know that as they come into shore..loud and roaring, they leave something new on the beach, and as they quietly slip back to sea, they leave behind them a clean slate..they wash away the footprints, the imperfections and the broken shells.  I think the grief waves do the same..they hit hard, but as they recede, they take with them more of the hurt, more of the tears and more of the sorrow.  Slowly, little by little, they take away the pain.

I heard a quote on a television show the other day.  The older woman was talking to a young woman who had just lost her fiance.  She looked at that grieving heart and said "You just keep living until you're alive again".  And I wanted to just jump up and shout "that's it..that's the magic formula".  I want to say to all the others who are grieving , "We have to put our feet on the ground.  Everyday, we have to breathe in and out...until one day, we realize "we're alive again".

I'm going to keep on living until I'm alive again.

A Testimony of Grief and Faith

My Sweet Michael,

It has been almost 21 months since you went to Heaven.  The journey that I have walked in this time has been long and slow and hard.  There have been so many twists and turns in this road.  There have been good days, there have been horrible days and there have been days that just were.  For me, the hardest part of this journey has been my journey of faith.

I would like to say that my testimony is one of constant faith.  About how I stayed true to God.  Instead, it's about how God stayed true to me.  I'd like to say that in all this time, I never took my eyes from the Lord, but instead,  it's about how Jesus never took his hand from me.

When you first died, I promised I would not be mad at God for taking you.  I said that I needed to focus on Christ to survive it.  And I meant that.  I remember the day when it changed.  I had tried really hard to make just one normal evening for Tru.  I set the table, cooked what he wanted and sat down for dinner.  The first thing Tru said was "you can't sit in Popi's chair", so I moved.  He then continued to have a total melt down.  He used his hands and ripped apart the meat that was on his plate, he screamed and cried and I ended up sending him to his room.  I sat at that table and I yelled at God "Really?  You thought THIS was a good plan?  You took my husband and you say you LOVE me?" and I was furious.

Thirteen months and 7 days after God called you, He also took my precious grandson home to Heaven.

The fury turned to doubt.  Suddenly I was unsure of everything that I had believed in.  What if when  you die, that's all there is?  What if everything I've been taught all my life is just wishful thinking?  I went between being furious with God and not knowing if He existed.  But something deep inside of me still told me to pray every night "God, please, protect my mind, my heart and my soul from the enemy while I'm so vulnerable".  It was all I could manage, but I know that God heard my plea.

They say that Hell is the complete absence of God.  I felt like I was in Hell.  I was afraid of everything..sometimes I couldn't even move because of the fear..I just sat frozen in place.  IF Heaven was real, I only wanted to go there so that I could be with you again.  My eye was constantly on YOU, not on God, not on today, but on you my Sweet Husband. And I felt so alone.  You were gone, my grandson was gone,  my Saviour was gone.  I was totally, completely alone in my soul, and I was in Hell!

As I look back on that time, I see that Jesus never left my side.  He sent me beautiful, Christian women friends who would drop by and listen to me cry.  He sent friends who invited me to lunch and dinner. He sent my loved ones to stay with me.  He sent His church to wrap me and Tru in their unyielding love.  I felt so alone, but looking back, I can see that I was never really alone. I had never been so loved! God had me and He never let go!

During that time, I never stopped going to church, I never stopped encouraging others to pray, to believe and to lean on Jesus.  I KNEW in my heart that it was the right answer..I just had to get my head back, I had to somehow get the lies of the enemy out of my mind.  And I knew that I was incapable of doing that myself.

At first, I read Christian fiction.  Stories based on the Bible about the days that Jesus walked the earth.  I read over and over about the crucifixion and resurrection and cried each and every time I read about what Jesus sacrificed for me.  I wanted to go back and KNOW Jesus.  And I prayed.  Sometimes, all I could do was say the Lord's Prayer and ask God to restore my faith!

Before you died, I had felt God so close and so near.  He had blessed me beyond my wildest dreams.  I had a happy marriage with a man I simply adored, Our children were doing well, we had a nice home, we had a church we loved, my business was going well.  And I often felt like I could just reach out and touch God.  I wanted that back.  It wasn't the blessings I wanted back so badly (although that would be nice), but more than anything, I wanted that closeness to God.  I wanted to FEEL Him, I wanted to love him and feel loved by Him.

Because the God I love is an awesome God, because He is slow to anger and because He loves us so much, He hears our prayers.  Because He is a Father, He doesn't always give us everything we ask for when we ask.  He wants us to learn to trust Him.

Slowly, ever so slowly, I have felt Him answer my prayers.  And for the first time since you have been gone, I went to Church and I praised HIM.  I wasn't looking for you, I was looking for God.  I realized for the first time in a long time, that I wasn't anxious to get to Heaven to see you, my sweet husband, I was anxious to see God and feel his love surround me.

I will always love you, Michael, that love is as much a part of me as breathing is.  But when you were here with me, when you were beside me in church, my worship went to Christ.  God came first and you came second only to Him.  I think that's the lesson that God wanted me to learn right now.  I believe that He wanted me to learn He is still God, that He still sits on the throne and more than anything, that He will never leave me.  I may not understand His plan, and I definitely do not always like it, but if I keep my eye on Him, He will lead me the rest of the way through this journey.

My prayer now is that God will fit me to His purpose, that my life will be a testament to His love and Mercy.  That my testimony will not be about MY faith, but about God's faithfulness.

I don't know how much longer I will have to walk this journey, but one thing I know..I will never walk alone.

I love you,
g

Psalm 23:

The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. 2 He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters. 3 He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name's sake.4 Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me. 5 Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies: thou anointest  my head with oil; my cup runneth over. 6 Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the house of the Lord for ever. 

Just to Hear Your Voice

Hi Baby Boy,

I know it's been a while since I've written to you.  There have been so many times that I've just wanted to sit down and talk to you, to write you a letter, but life keeps happening.  Well, I guess that's partially true...the other part is that as long as I don't think about how gone you really are from my life, I can breathe!  I get busy and I even have good days.  Days when I don't feel the pain.  Days when I can put my grief aside and pretend that I'm happy.  But, the truth of the matter is...it always comes back.

When I let myself think about our reality, it just crushes the breath out of me.  I MISS you so much, Baby.  I miss every single thing about you.  I miss the fact that you always had my back, I miss that  you protected me.  I miss your kisses and holding your hand.  I miss our life, Michael.  I miss you so much.

It has been twenty months since you died.  TWENTY months!!!  In the beginning, when other widows told me that they had been widowed twenty months, I thought "wow, you must be over the pain by now".  And, I think that so many people out there believe that the grief stops at a certain time.  Six weeks?  One Year?  Surely by two years?  And I thought the same thing before I was inducted into this club of the broken hearted.  Now I know the truth.  The truth is that the grief does not stop (at least not by twenty months).  It softens at times, but the feeling of always having a part of you missing does not go away.

People ask me how I'm doing and I say "better..I'm doing better" and then I have to wonder if that person thinks that "better" means I've "gotten over" you.  That I've stopped loving you or have forgotten you.  And that's not it at all.  When I say "I'm doing better" I mean that I took a shower and laughed and made the bed and went out in public despite the pain in my heart and I just want to call that person back and say "Hey, I still love my husband, I still talk to him every day, but today, I laughed out loud and so that means I'm doing better".

Yesterday was my birthday.  You always made my birthday so special.  I had wonderful friends and family to celebrate with this year, but I couldn't help but think of what we would be doing if you were still here.  I listened to our favorite band and I closed my eyes and I was dancing with you.  I closed my eyes and felt you hold my hands.  But, Baby, the scary part was,when I closed my eyes, I couldn't remember how you sat in the chair at the club?  Did you put both arms on the table?  Did you turn towards the band and have both hands in your lap?  And I felt like I had just lost another piece of you..because I couldn't remember!

As I sit here writing to you (I'm sorry, my thoughts are all over the place), all I can think of is this..I could bear the physical separation, I could bear the years that will come before we can be together again..I could bear all of that if I could only talk to you.  If I could only hear your voice, ask your advice, hear you tell me that you love me and that everything would be okay.  If only the separation didn't have to be so complete.  If only God had allowed telephones in Heaven!  If only our conversations could be two sided once again.

So many "if onlys" rule my world today, Michael.  The world seems to be such an uncertain place without you here beside me, so I try to lean on the only certain thing I know.  I lean on my faith.  God is the same yesterday, today and tomorrow..of that I am certain.

I love  you, Michael.  And as always, I'll talk to you in my dreams.

Hebrews 13:8  Jesus Christ is the same yesterday, today, and forever!

A Time of Thanksgiving

My Sweet Michael,

For some reason, I just haven't been able to write to you for a while.  I think about it all the time, think about what I want to say to you, but I just haven't been able to bring myself to do it. It's been one and a half years since you went to Heaven.  Oh, my goodness, it seems like an eternity when I say that, but it feels like it has just been one very long day.  So much has happened in this year and a half and with each important (and less important) event, I just want to talk to you about it.

Grief has surprised me.  Even though I have lost loved ones and have grieved for them, I have never experienced it like this.  I thought that after 3 months, or 6 months, or a year that I would've gone back to "normal".  Now I know, there will never be that "normal" again.  What happens is you adjust. You wake up one day and you feel different.  For a minute or two you can't quite place it.  Then it dawns on you, you feel happy!  Your body feels lighter and you have some energy.  It doesn't last for long, but you know there's hope because for just a moment, you felt happy again.

Another thing that has surprised me Michael, is my ability to feel such pain and such love at the same time.  I never knew that my emotions could stay so constant for so long, but through this past year and a half, the two things that have not changed is how much I miss you and long for you, and how much I still love you.  It has surprised me that even though you've been gone for so long, my love has not  lessened even a little bit.  I still love you with the same intensity that I loved you on the day you died.

The Holidays are here again, Sweetie.  This is the second Thanksgiving that I've had without you.  Last year was so painful.  I was still suffering so much.  This year, I actually have started looking forward to cooking the turkey, putting out the decorations, planning for Christmas.  This year, I WANT to smile.  I want to make happy memories for Tru and the rest of the kids and grandkids.  Don't get me wrong, Michael.  It is not without pain or struggle, but it is with great determination!

It has been Thanksgiving day for 28 minutes now.  I am choosing to be thankful, Michael.  I am thankful that I have a home that is safe and warm to raise Tru in.  I'm thankful that I have family that have held my hand through not just the hard times, but through the good times too.  I'm thankful that I'm healthy and that we have a kitchen full of food.  I'm thankful for my wonderful friends.  I'm thankful that I live in a country where I can worship God without fear of persecution.  I'm thankful for the love that I still have in my life.  And Sweetie, I'm so very thankful for the time that I had with you.  Our time was short, Michael, but it was enough. It was enough to last my lifetime.  It was enough to show me that true love really does exist.  It was enough that I will always feel you with me.  Our time was short, our time wasn't enough, but Baby, our love was enough.

So, today I will give thanks for all God's blessings and I will pray for those who are just starting out on this journey of grief.  I pray that they will know that the smiles will come again.  That they will believe that the pain will become less and the memories will linger.

I love you, Baby Boy.  I love you with all my heart.  Happy Thanksgiving, Michael.


1 Chronicles 16:34

Give thanks to the Lord, for he is good; his love endures forever.

Finding Me Again

Dear Michael,

It's sixteen months now that you've been gone.  It seems like a lifetime, yet only a moment since you were here with me.

So many things have happened since you've been gone.  I've celebrated two wedding anniversaries without you.  Tru finished a whole year of kindergarten and is now in first grade.  My baby had a baby, and then he died.  Your best friend lost his wife. One of our grandgirls got engaged,  I've attended lots of births.  The world has continued to turn, even though sixteen months ago, I didn't think I could survive one single day.

When you died, I lost myself.  I thought that I had lost all the parts of me that I saw in your eyes.  I was a mess.  All those days that I couldn't find the energy or the will to dress or bathe or even pick up the remote to change the channel. I lost my laugh.  I lost my ability to care about anything except my pain.  I gained weight, I no longer cared about looking pretty or keeping the house.  It was hard, Baby.  It was so very hard.  Sixteen months later, I miss you still...every single day, I miss you.

But somehow, I have survived!  I don't know which day it was,  or why it became easier.  The raw pain seemed to become a little duller.  I started taking showers again.  I started going out in the community more.  I started breathing a little easier.  It just happened.  Somewhere along this road, the grief changed from unbelievable horror to a dull aching pain.

God blessed me with so many wonderful women to help me along the way.  To fill some of the void that was left.  Women who share my pain.  Women who understand my words.  Women who are there in the middle of the night when the rest of the world is sleeping.  They're there with me because we share the fear and tears and laughter of  grief.  Everyday I'm thankful for my "Wild Widows".  They are the loves of my days without you.

I've also been blessed with wonderful friends in my life.  They have stood beside me when I'm sure that it was not easy to do.  They've mowed our grass, taken Tru on outings.  Our church has been such a boost to my heart.  Both of our families have stood beside me through this.  What kind, loving people God has sent to me.

I've learned so much through this journey, Michael.  I've learned my limitations and I've learned how far I can strech.  And now I'm learning to live again.  In the beginning, I felt like living my life was betraying the fact that you had lost yours.  Now I'm learning that you loved me.  And because you loved me, you always wanted me to be happy.  I'm coming to realize that this sadness and trading my life for one of sorrows was not the way to honor you.  That would've broken your heart. I'm also learning that the person you reflected back to me is still here.  You gave those parts of myself to me and they can never be taken away.

You gave me confidence.  You made me feel beautiful and sexy.  You made me the best me I had ever been.  If I give those things away, I give away the love that was your gift to me.

So, I'm taking better care of myself, Sweetie.  I stopped smoking (I know you must've thrown a party in Heaven over that one).  I'm going to the gym.  I want to be healthy.  I'm giving more of "Mawmo" to our little guy.  The one that he had when you were here.  The one that laughs and makes sure he has clean clothes and takes him to the park.

After sixteen months, I'm finding "me" again, Baby.  I may have lost the love of my life...but I have not lost the love for this life that God has given me.

And Baby, I want to feel pretty again.

I love you forever and a day.

Signs, Signs, Everywhere There's Signs?

Hi Sweetie,

As always, I woke up with you on my mind.  But, that's nothing new, is it?  You are always on my mind.  Since our first date, you seemed to just move into my mind and make a home for yourself there.

When we first started dating, you changed me.  You didn't ask me to change.  It was something that happened spontaneously and naturally.  You always worried about me driving too fast.  Next thing I know, I'm driving the speed limit!  I started losing weight and wearing make up.  I smiled more, I always wanted you to be proud of me.  I always felt like you created in me the best me that I ever was!  And still, 14 months after you went to Heaven, you continue to change me.

Of course, the grief itself changes people.  I've gained weight, I've been less than active (what an understatement), I've cried millions of tears, I don't laugh as much.  But, that's not the kind of change I'm talking about.

Before you died, I hadn't really had to think too much about what happens when people die.  Of course, I've always believed in Heaven.  I've always believed that to be absent from the body was to be present with the Lord.  I've always believed that Christ was my Savior and therefore, I knew where my Soul would be after death.  But, that was about as far as it went.

Losing you has caused me to want to know more.  To want to know "can you see me", "do you still love me", "will there be marriage in Heaven", "can you hear me when I cry out to you", "do you come to me in my dreams", "do you send me signs to tell me you're still here with me"?  Jesus didn't really talk about any of this in the Bible.  He talked more about how to get into Heaven, not what it would be like once we got there.

I took a grief class at our church not long after you died.  The Pastor who led it was a hospice chaplain.  He said the Bible didn't tell us what we could see or do or feel once we died.  He said sometimes we receive signs that can't be explained away and that we should just accept them as a blessing of peace and comfort.  That just really blew me away because it was the first time I had heard a protestant minister say that!

I do believe that when  you die, you are with Christ.  I believe that Christ is with me always.  So, in my limited reasoning capacity, I believe that if you are with Him and He is with me, then  you must be with me also?  I also believe that you are part of "the great cloud of witnesses" that pray over me and rejoice when I get something right.  I don't believe that you grieve for me because from where you are, you know the answers, you know that this life is short and Heaven is for eternity.  You know that we will be reunited when my journey is done.  But, I still have to try to make sense of it here in this life.

I know that since you've been gone, I feel you around me always.  I know that from the time you first left, my phone continues to randomly and spontaneously play "Smokey Robinson" songs.  Not just one phone either...I'm on my third phone and it still continues.  I know that one night I dreamed of you.  So plain and so real.  You were sitting on the side of the bed talking to me, just like you did every single morning before  you went to work,  and when I woke up, right where you were sitting in my dreams, there now sat a Bible.  It took my breath away!!!!  I know that I have felt you.  Felt you next to me, felt you hold my hand, felt you with me always.  These things, I know to be true.  These things are ways in which you continue to change me, to stretch me, to make me question things that I never questioned before.

I don't know what the answers are, Sweetie.  You know, but I don't.  Some would say that it's you in spirit form watching over me and letting me know that you're still here.  Some would say that it's God's way of sending me comfort.  Some would say I've lost my mind and it's all in my imagination.  But this, I do know.  It comforts me.  It tells me that Heaven is real, that life continues after we die.  It tells me that I am never alone.

So, Baby Boy, whether you're praying for me from "the great cloud of witnesses" or praying for me from your chair here in the living room, I know that even now, as in life, you've got my back.  I love you, Baby and please, don't forget to give kisses to Baby Cash for me.  I love both my boys so much.