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.

Lullabies for Cash

Oh, Michael,

Once again, my heart is broken.  When I lost you, I thought there could be no greater pain.  Losing you was one of the hardest things I've ever had to face.  But, Baby, "Our Girl" is suffering so much right now.  Watching my child grieve the greatest loss there could ever be, and being so helpless to protect her has got to be even harder.

I would willingly go through this entire past year of grieving for you all over again, if it would spare her one day  of pain.  My baby has lost her baby and I just don't know what to do?  When she was little, I could scoop her up into my arms and love her.  I could kiss her boo boos and take away the pain.  I would give my life to protect her, and yet while we all lay sleeping, her precious heart was hurt beyond reason.

I remember the last time Cash was here.  He was sitting in his carseat and smiled up at me.  I just couldn't resist that smile!  So open and big, it filled his whole face and made him absolutely irresistible. I picked him up and we "talked" for a bit.  He was so alert and attentive.  I held him while his mama folded clothes and he just looked and looked at her.  I remember telling her "this baby is so in love with you".  And he was...you could tell that he absolutely adored his mama.  Later, I told my child that it was almost like the baby was memorizing every detail of her face so that he could take that memory to Heaven with him.

When Tru got hurt, or was scared, you used to pick him up and say "It's okay, Little Guy, Popi's got you".  You would hold him close and he wasn't afraid anymore.  I picture you doing that with Cash now.  I close my eyes and I imagine Jesus handing him to you after his long trip to Heaven.  I told Tru that maybe you had to leave early for Heaven so that you could be there when Cash got to Heaven too.  I told him that you would take care of his baby brother just like  you used to take care of him.

I believe that every person has a purpose in life.  I believe that Cash fulfilled his purpose in only 2 months and 18 days.  I believe that he is in Heaven and that we will see him again.  But though that brings comfort, it doesn't take away the pain of his loss.  My daughter's arms are empty.  She misses his smell and his laugh, she mourns seeing him learn to walk, and  to talk, she misses the promise of dandelions in chubby hands, mud pies and tea, the oohs and ahs of seeing his first lightening bug, she mourns the time to know him and watch him grow into a man.  My daughter has been called to do the hardest thing that any mother is ever called to do.  She has been called to mourn for her child.

I pray for comfort for our girl.  I pray for peace for her heart.  Jesus is our great comforter and I pray that she will feel Him near.  That she will know that her child is only a heartbeat away.  And I pray that God will help me to be the person that she needs me to be during this time of great sadness.

Baby, take care of our girl and her  "Lil Buddy".  And if you could, would you please sing him a lullaby?  Hold him in your arms and tell him how much his mama loves him.  And if you could, would you please give him a kiss from his Mawmo too?

I love you, Michael and I miss you so much everyday, but I'm so glad that you are there to take care of our precious Cash.

Jeremiah 31:13

New International Version (NIV)

13 Then young women will dance and be glad,
    young men and old as well.
I will turn their mourning into gladness;
    I will give them comfort and joy instead of sorrow.

The Thorn In My Heart

My Dear, Sweet, Wonderful Michael,

Baby, I am missing you SO badly right now.  When I passed that one year mark, I somehow felt "lighter".  I felt you nearer to me, I was feeling optimistic, making a plan. I really thought I had this thing whipped!  I was not prepared for the renewal of grief!  It seems to have come from nowhere, I just turned around and got punched right in the gut with it.

From the beginning, I thought "If I can just make it a year".  One year seemed like a huge amount of time.  I thought surely at the end of one year, I would be back to myself again.  So, I held on.  I held on to thinking that "time" would make it better.  That I would adjust and pick myself up and I would be "fine".  Now I know that "one year" is a lie.

I live with the pain of missing you, Michael.  I live with the sorrow, the loneliness, the frustration, the fear, of missing  you.  On the outside, I'm doing fine.  I stay "busy".  I shower.  I laugh. I work and I socialize. I do the things that say I'm handling all this.   On the inside, there is a constant feeling of festering soreness.

I think of the story about the Lion with a thorn in his paw.  I think about how he must have cried out when he first felt the thorn pierce his flesh.  He must've bled in those first hours.  I'm sure he panicked and tried to get the thing that was causing him pain out of his body.  I can just see him as he laid there, licking his wounds.  His sleep was restless,  because even in sleep, the pain was present.  As days went on, he accepted his fate.  He learned to live with the thorn in his paw, but it changed him.  He could no longer walk with confidence..the king of the beasts, he walked slower, he limped.  He lashed out with anger and his wound continued to fester.  I have to wonder if all the other animals in the jungle said "Hey, it's just a thorn.  You can get on with your life, learn to adjust"?  But, how was he supposed to adjust?  The pain was constant.  He saw no hope.  Eventually, in the story, someone removed the thorn and the lion did go on with his life.  He healed from his wounds and he learned to walk with all four feet firmly planted on the ground again.

When you died that day, your death pierced my heart.  For the rest of my life, I will never forget how I cried out in agony.  The restless nights spent tossing and turning only to awaken to the pain.  Somewhere along the way, I have learned to live with the pain. I have learned to survive with a broken heart.  A heart that will never, ever be the same.  Like the lion, I have accepted that this is my fate, and I pray that God will come along and remove the thorn from my heart.  I pray that my time of suffering will end, that there really can be a future for me.

But, Michael, it's so hard to look for a future, when all I want is our past.  Remember how we used to sit out on the front steps, and I would put my head on your shoulder?  We would look out at Tru playing in the yard, the neighbors waving as they jogged down the street and I would look at you and say "I love our life"?

 I look at the videos of us together, and hear you laughing, I see myself reach up and give you a kiss and you adjust my necklace, you put your arm protectively around me, and the look in your eyes speaks of how much you love me. We were always looking at each other, always touching, always laughing.  I see you sitting in your chair, telling a joke, playing with Tru, kicking my foot to annoy me.  I see our clean house, our well behaved child.  Our life....that was our life, and dammit, Michael, how can I even WANT a future without you in it, when I have a past where I was so loved?

I can't think of a future without you, Michael.  So I'm going to think of today.  I'm going to make a plan, a goal, I'm going to wash the laundry, take a shower, wait for tonight so that I can sleep and dream of you.  I'm going to dry my tears, catch my breath, try to not think about this thorn in my heart.  I'm going to just do today, Baby.  Because, Michael, it's all I've got in me.

And Michael, I hope that somehow you know that I still love you so much, even with this thorn in my heart.

g

The First "Angelversary"

Oh, my Sweet, Sweet Michael,

Today has been so painful.  I cannot believe that an entire year has passed since I last heard your voice, since I last held you in my arms.  Where have I been for that year?  It passed in the blink of an eye.Where have you been?  It's impossible that you're not here with me.

What is it about the calender that makes one day harder than another?  You were just as gone yesterday as you are today, yet today is filled with constant reminders.  Looking at the clock, thinking of what we were doing at this time last year.  Memories just flooding my mind.  And now that the hour of your death has passed on the day of your death, I can no longer say "this time last year we were doing....?".  Now, I look at the clock and I think "This time last year, Michael had died".  It is the anniversary of the first hours of the beginning of the pain.

It seems that people think there's something "magical" about one year.  You should grieve for one year.  He's been gone a year.  It's time to get on with your life.  But now I know, like so many others have already found out, that the one year mark does not mean the end of pain.  The one year mark brings constant reminders of the pain.  It is like hitting the "refresh" button on your memories.

How many gallons of tears do you think I've cried in one year?  How many times have I had the breath knocked out of me by realizing, really knowing that you are gone?  How many times have I felt that I could not stand the suffering even one more second?

Today I went to the ball park.  I walked down the stairs and sat on the team bench where you sat so often.  I touched the fence that you used to hang onto when you were waiting your turn at bat.  I closed my eyes and I yelled "way to go Michael" and I watched you hit that ball and run the bases.  I could hear the people cheering you on, could see Tru running up and down the hill.  And I screamed for you to come back!!!!

When I finally left the ball park, I went to the cemetery.  The cemetery was beautiful, all the flowers were fresh, the flags lined the streets.  There were so many people there and I felt so resentful.  I felt their intrusion on my pain.  This wasn't a day that my mind could sympathize with their loss because I was just barely hanging on with my own.

I sat in the grass beside you.  My heart breaking a little more with each memory.  It took all my self control to swallow the sobs that wanted to escape into the world.  And then I felt peace.  I looked up and everyone was gone from "our side" of the cemetery.  We were alone.  Just you and me. I felt like you had done that for me.  Like you had found a way to give us some privacy.   I played the music that we loved.  I closed my eyes and danced with you.  Oh, how I loved dancing with you. I stayed with you until the first raindrops fell.  I wanted to stay there in the rain, to let it wash me away.  Hoping that it would cleanse the pain, that it would restore me somehow.  Instead, I told you that I love you.  That I would always love you and I walked away.

Tonight I read our emails.  I read from the time we were looking for our house until the email where you first said "I love you Mrs. Fisher".  I read the excitement of our upcoming wedding.  The sweet, silly, funny things that we said to each other.  Our life and the plans that we had for our future preserved in a file on AOL.  We were so happy and so excited.  All our dreams were coming true and now you're gone, Baby.  I read about the problems we worked through, the plans we made to meet, the times we made love, the times we missed each other so much.  And I remember those nights spent without you and in our emails, we promised that we would never be apart again.  And Oh, my God, that pain of being separated for days at a time, is nothing compared to having spent an entire year without you, Michael.

I feel so broken tonight, Baby.  All the tears that I have held back in these recent months come freely now.  I want to SCREAM at the top of my lungs.  I want you to come home so badly.  I want our life back, I want our dreams and our plans and I want to grow old with you.  I wasn't finished, Sweetie, I just wasn't finished.

One year ago today I wrote:  Tonight, my Sweet Michael was called home to be with our Savior. He had such a beautiful wonderful heart, but it just couldn't keep going. My heart is broken and Tru is so sad. Please pray for us. Thank you all for the way that you have held us up in prayer tonight. I don't think I could've made it through the past hours without it. Michael and I had a beautiful love for each other that was precious and rare. He is my world and I'm not sure how I can stay here with him so far away, but I know that my Jesus will see me through.

Yet, here I still am.  I still don't know how I'm able to stay here with you so far away.  I miss you so much, Baby.  I just miss you so much.

John 14:1-4 
Do not let your hearts be troubled. You believe in God; believe also in me. My Father’s house has many rooms; if that were not so, would I have told you that I am going there to prepare a place for you? And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back and take you to be with me that you also may be where I am. You know the way to the place where I am going. (NIV)

Who Am I, Now That I'm Without You?

My Sweet Michael,

We are coming up on the one year anniversary of your death.  I'm not really even sure how one year has passed in only moments?  I know that this year has been filled with pain, loneliness, hope, breathing and struggling.  It has been the shortest long year of my life.

I know that there has not been a single day that I have not longed for you.  I've missed  your laughter and your jokes.  I've missed your advice, your company.  I've missed you as a parent for our little guy.  I've missed your snores, I've missed the things we did together...so many, many things that we did together.  This morning I woke up counting the things that we had in our lives that I no longer have.

In the time that we were together, I knew who I was.  I was Michael's wife.  Being your wife was the highest honor.  I was so proud to have been chosen to live my life as Mrs. Fisher.  Every night, I thanked God that He had chosen me to be your wife.  The way I dressed, the way I took care of our home, the way I socialized, the way I parented, the way I worked, everything about me was directly related to being your wife.  And now that you are gone, who am I?

I am no longer your wife.  I am your widow.  When I'm in a social group, I am no longer "one of the wives". I can't talk about the maddening, funny, loving things my husband does.  I can only talk about what you used to do.  I can no longer join in the conversations of "well, I need to get busy before Michael gets home" or "I hope Michael likes this" or "I'll have to check with Michael".  I am a widow.  I am a widowed parent.  I'm no longer the person I was because of you, I am now the person that I am without you.

Somehow, I have to find who I am, not who I am not.

The Bible says I am these things:

I am a child of God
But to all who have received him--those who believe in his name--he has given the right to become God's children … (John 1:12).

I am a friend of Jesus
I no longer call you slaves, because the slave does not understand what his master is doing. But I have called you friends, because I have revealed to you everything I heard from my Father (John 15:15).

As a child of God, I am a fellow heir with Christ
And if children, then heirs (namely, heirs of God and also fellow heirs with Christ)--if indeed we suffer with him so we may also be glorified with him (Romans 8:17).

I am a new creature in Christ
So then, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation; what is old has passed away--look, what is new has come (2 Corinthians 5:17)

I am chosen, Holy and blameless before god
For he chose us in Christ before the foundation of the world that we may be holy and unblemished in his sight in love (Ephesians 1:4).

I am God's workmanship, created to do good works
For we are his workmanship, having been created in Christ Jesus for good works that God prepared beforehand so we may do them (Ephesians 2:10).

I am a member of Christ's body and a partaker of His promise
The Gentiles are fellow heirs, fellow members of the body, and fellow partakers of the promise in Christ Jesus (Ephesians 3:6). (See also Ephesians 5:30.)

I am a citizen of Heaven
But our citizenship is in heaven--and we also await a savior from there, the Lord Jesus Christ … (Philippians 3:20).

I am complete in Christ
You have been filled in him, who is the head over every ruler and authority (Colossians 2:10).

I have been chosen by Christ and am Holy and beloved
Therefore, as the elect of God, holy and dearly loved, clothe yourselves with a heart of mercy, kindness, humility, gentleness, and patience … (Colossians 3:12).

Baby, I may feel that I have lost my identity as your wife, but I know that I have not lost my identity in Christ.  Death was able to take away the things I held most precious in this life, but death will never steal my true identity.  In Christ, I am the same yesterday, today and tomorrow.  

I pray daily that God will replace the pain in my heart at being a widow, with the joy of knowing that I am a bride of Christ.  I pray that I can focus on all that I am because of Christ, not all that I am not because of losing you.  

You are my love, Michael Fisher.  My sweet, beautiful, wonderful love.  You fulfilled me and filled me with wonder and awe.  You loved me and held me up through good times and bad.  You always had my back, Baby.  Always.  And I know you have my back now.  I know that you can see me from that "Great Cloud of Witnesses".  

I am so excited to someday be with you again.  I long for the day that you will take my hand and say "Welcome home, G, I've been waiting for you".  But until that day comes, I will do my very best to fulfill God's purpose and to become who He created me to be.

I love you, Sweetie.  Always and forever.

Crisis of Faith

My Sweet Michael,

It's been a little over eleven months that I have had to live without you.  The grief seems to come in waves.  There are days that I feel pretty good and then, with no warning, I just get slammed in the heart with sorrow. You still feel as real and alive today as you did before you were gone.  But now, the missing you is harder.  It's harder because I just want to talk to you.  I just long to hear your voice. It's harder because I've started to believe that you really aren't coming back.

When you left, there were things I felt so sure of.  The first thing was that I wouldn't have any regrets because we had such a good marriage.  I knew that you loved me and you knew how much I loved you.  But when I read our emails..some of which were about petty arguments and disagreements, I want to take them back.  I want to take every argument back, I want to tell you how sorry I am for being angry over stupid things.  I want to ask you if  you were disappointed with me, or if you were happy?  I KNOW that you were happy, Baby, but, I torture myself with regret over every remembered harsh word.  I know that we were just living our lives and our marriage, but, oh, how I regret every minute that I didn't just cherish  you.

The other thing I was so sure about was that I would cling to God.  That I would draw ever nearer, placing my faith and my hope in Him.  I pictured myself as a peaceful, serene widow, wiser from having lived through the fire. I felt sure that I was not going to get angry at God or pull away from him.

I never dreamed that your death would cause me to question everything I had ever believed in.  I never dreamed that May 26, 2013 would be the day that my soul began to come unraveled.  I literally knew God in my mother's womb.  I was brought up in the church, I knew God...really knew God from my earliest memories, yet your death has taken my faith by the throat.  When I need my faith most, when I need the strong presence of my God, I have been left feeling alone and terrified.

Questions that I had never considered...what if God isn't real?  What if Heaven is a myth?  What if Michael has just stopped existing?..... invade my thoughts and my dreams.  The other night I dreamed of my own death.  I watched my family prepare my funeral.  I saw my body in the casket.  Somehow I felt like you were with me. When the moment came that I realized that I was going to be buried, I panicked.  I was terrified.  I was questioning everything I knew and could see and could feel.

In Mother Teresa's recently published letters, she wrote:   (In an undated address to Jesus), "Where is my Faith -- even deep down right in there is nothing, but emptiness & darkness -- My God -- how painful is this unknown pain -- I have no Faith -- I dare not utter the words & thoughts that crowd in my heart -- & make me suffer untold agony."

She wrote the Rev. Michael van der Peet in September 1979, saying, "Jesus has a very special love for you. As for me, the silence and the emptiness is so great that I look and do not see, listen and do not hear."

On Rapture Ready, in an  article written by Todd Strandberg, the author writes:  Crisis of faith" is a term commonly applied to periods of intense doubt and internal conflict about one's preconceived beliefs or life decisions. This doubt can be triggered by a single event, or it can build up as a general sense of dissatisfaction.

  Some people think that any type of uncertainty is a sign of a crisis of faith. I would say the opposite is generally true. Someone who boldly declares that he or she has never had doubts is likely a person who was never a true believer.

But, even in this "crisis of faith", I rely on the Lord's promises.  In Psalm 23, David wrote:  

 3 He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of^arighteousness for his ^bname’s sake.

 4 Yea, though I ^awalk through the ^bvalley of the ^cshadow of^ddeath, I will fear no ^eevil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they ^fcomfort me.

God promised me, in His own word, that He would not leave me, He would not forget me, He would lead me with His rod and staff, like a lost sheep, back into the fold.  Even in this crisis of faith, I know that it is not God who has pulled away, it is not God who has changed, it is me who has lost sight of Him.  

I know that it was God who created me in His image.  He created all my emotions, my ups and down, my doubts.  He created my ability to feel hurt and anger and fear.  And I'm so glad that God did not place the security of my salvation on these crazy emotions.  God also created my soul, and it's  my soul that cries out to Him in this Valley of Death.  God put in me the Holy Spirit, the one who intercedes for me and cries out to God when I can't.

In Mark 9:24 the Bible says that the father cried out "Lord, I believe, please help me with my unbelief".  And I bring that plea to God.  Please, Lord, please, help me with my unbelief.  Show yourself to me and restore this broken spirit.

I love you so much, my Sweet Michael.  Don't give up on me....I'll get this right.

g

This Thing Called "Loneliness"

Dear Michael,

For 10 1/2 months now, I have been alone.  I have missed you so much.  The pain of losing you has been all I've been able to feel.  The pain has been so big that it left no room for anything else.

Yesterday, on the way to take Tru to dinner, all of a sudden, from out of nowhere, it hit me-I am so lonely!  This is a new emotion.  I'm not lonely for company.  I've been so blessed to have friends and family around me often.  People who call me and check on us, people who invite us to different functions.  I have my wonderful widow friends on my support groups that have become like family to me.  I have people who care, Baby.  But, I'm so lonely for you.

The soul of our home is gone.  I'm lonely for the one person who "belongs" here.  I'm lonely for the person who I never got tired of seeing.  The person whose presence and personality was so infinitely entwined in the very fabric of our home.

Everything broke this week.  The furnace went out, the washing machine went kaput, my cell phone, the DVR and the surge protector, all broken.  I know these are just things.  Things eventually break, but for me, it feels as if the kingdom is falling.  Remember the movie "The Never Ending Story"?  Remember how the "nothing" was invading and the kingdom was dying?  The castle was falling all around the princess and our hero had to stop the "nothing"?  That's what it feels like when things break.  It feels like I helplessly sit here and watch the life that we built together slowly falling apart, and I wonder "when will it all be gone"?  When will I look around and everything that was "us" has disappeared 

When we got to the restaurant, after the wild chase through the buffet line (trying to keep up with a very excited boy), I sat at our table and looked at the table across from us.  There sat a sweet little elderly couple. They were sitting on the same side of the table, very contentedly eating their dinner.  And the tears just fell.  I couldn't stop them.  The loneliness and the unfairness just overwhelmed me.  That should have been us...that WAS us at one time, wasn't it?  That was you and me...so happy to just be together, that we sat on the same side of the table so that we could just be near each other!

You were bigger than life, Michael.  You were everything I ever dreamed of in a husband.  You were kind, and sweet.  You were a wonderful father to our little guy.  You loved our family more than anything.  You were one of the greatest athletes, some of your high school records have still not been broken.  You were my perfect dance partner, you sang to me, you wrote me sweet notes.  We had so much fun together, we enjoyed each other's company.  You used to tell me that I was a fun date.  And most of all, you loved me.  You loved me when I wasn't always so easy to love.  You held me up when I needed  you, you were proud of me, you made me feel beautiful and invincible because  you believed in me. You accepted the love I gave to you as a precious gift.  How can all of that ever be replaced?  How does a heart ever recover from losing the love of a lifetime?

I pray so hard, Baby.  I pray that God will heal my broken heart.  I pray that God will help me to be a better parent, that He will lead me on the path that He has set before me.  I pray that God will comfort me and that I can somehow find the strength to put Him first above my love for you, and above the pain of losing you.

I was talking to your mom the other day and I told her that I was trying really hard to live again, to get up and do healthy things and to try to find the purpose God has meant for me.  And she told me "Yes, you have to do those things, because you know, he's not coming back".  Oh, Baby, my head knows that, but my heart?  My poor heart is still so in love with you and just can't believe  that you are never coming home!

I am doing my best to stand on God's promises:
Psalm 38:9  O Lord, all my longing is before you; my sighing is not hidden from you.  
God hears my hurting heart.  He sees my tears and He loves me.

Isaiah 53:4  Surely he has borne our griefs and carried our sorrows;
As much as I hurt, I know that the Lord is bearing the heaviest part of my grief and my sorrow.

And most importantly, even though I'm lonely, I know that I am not alone:  Isaiah 41:10  Fear not, for I am with you; be not dismayed, for I am your God; I will strengthen you, I will help you, I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.

I know that it's going to take the love and strength of my Jesus to survive this, Baby.  Because of Him, I have hope that I will see you again and that this loneliness is only for a lifetime, but NOT for eternity.

 I love  you and I miss you, Michael.

g

Suffer the Children

Dear Michael,

Tomorrow it will be the 6 year anniversary of the day you nonchalantly walked over to me at the nurses station, (at the facility where we were both working), handed me your business card, and oh so coolly, said "why don't you give me a call".  Playing just a little hard to get, I said  "I don't call men..if you want to talk to me, you pick up the phone and call me" and handed you my number.  Fifteen minutes later, you called and left a message on my phone...and that began the great love story of our lives.  Tomorrow is also the 10 months anniversary of your death.

As much as I miss you, as much as I don't understand, even more than my loss, is the loss that our "Little Guy" has suffered.  So many times I have questioned God about this.  "God, I get it that you thought I could handle the loss of my husband, but why did you have to take this man from our child"?

There were so many times that I would watch you and Tru together.  You had this special, wonderful love between the two of you.  I would think "If Tru turns out well, it will be because of Michael".  You were so amazing with him.  You played with him, gave him one on one time, you sang songs together, went to ball games together.  Every night, he went to bed when you did and I would carry him to his own bed when I came to bed. The two of you would be snuggled up so tightly, that I didn't always know where you ended and he began    He was just starting to grow up, just starting to learn from you, and then, you were gone!  Suddenly, a little boy who lived in a happy home and was the center of the Universe for the two of us, became a little boy without a father figure and the only child in the home of a grieving widow.

This has been such an excruciating journey for the two of us!  We're both so lost in our grief.  I can't be who you were with him.  I fall so short in comparison to who you were...even to who I was, when I was parenting with you.  He tries me constantly.  He questions everything I tell him to do.  He looks for a father, he longs for that relationship that only a man can give him.  He talks often of wanting to come to Heaven to help you build our mansion so that we can all be together again.  And my heart just breaks for him!

Baby, I wish that you were here to tell me what to do.  How do I help his little heart to mend?  I worry that I'm not enough.  He looks at other men with the hope that maybe someone will be there for him.  Someone will play ball with him, someone will dance with him and sing songs with him.  Someone will discipline with love and strength.  He looks for someone to be his role model.  He looks for you in the face of every man he sees.

He's growing up so quickly and I'm so afraid that he will forget you.  That he will forget the wonderful things you taught him.  I asked him today if he still hears your voice in his head.  He said "Yes, ALL the time".  I asked him what it was that you say to him.  He told me "He always tells me he loves me and that when I get to Heaven we can play checkers.  He says you can play checkers with us too, Mawmo".  I asked him if he ever sees you.  He said "Yes, Mawmo, in my dreams.  I always see him in my dreams".  Baby, I hope that he will always hear your voice and see you in his dreams so that he never forgets.

Day by day, our life is going on without you in it.  I pray that God will heal my heart so I can be the parent that our little guy needs.  He's only five years old, and already he's been orphaned for almost a year of that...orphaned by a Popi that went to Heaven and a Mawmo that has been wounded by grief.

I'm not sure how this will all work out, but I'm trying, Michael.  I'm trying to be healthy and I'm trying to learn to be a single parent.  It's not easy, but I love this little guy so much, and he is worthy of my fighting my way out of the pain.  He is worthy of having a happy parent and once again, being the center of the Universe.

We love you so much, Michael!

G and your "Sidekick"


In the United States, by the age of 20, one in nine children will have lost a parent to death.  In 2001, the US Census said that 4% of all single parents were widowed.  I pray that people will take an interest in these lost children.  A little bit of time from a caring friend or relative can mean so much in the life of these little ones who are hurting so badly.

If you know of a child who has lost a parent, I hope that you will take the time to include him in your life.  These kids need someone who will be dependable and constant.  Someone who will be a positive roll model.  Someone they can call on when they are being left out of the Father/Son or Father/Daughter activities in school, because they have no father.  Someone who is willing to be a part of healing the broken heart of a child.

What Are the Signs That a Grieving Child Needs Extra Help?

The American Academy of Child and Adolescent Psychiatry (1998) cautions parents and teachers that, although most children grieve less over time, counseling might be considered if children exhibit several of these behaviors over an extended period:

• Depression so severe that a child shows little interest in daily activities
• Inability to sleep, eat normally, or be alone
• Regression in behavior to that of a less-mature child
• Imitation of the deceased person
• Repeatedly wishing to join the deceased
• Loss of interest in friends or play
• Refusal to attend school or a persistent and marked drop in school achievement

Not Just A Widow, But A Woman Too.

My Sweet Michael,

It's been 9 1/2 months now that  you've been gone.  Just when I think I'm getting the hang of this "widow thing", the missing you starts over again.  Somehow, life has gone on without you, even though I didn't think it was possible.  I can't say that I've been a willing participant. I can't even say that I've really participated in life at all since you've been gone, but rather I have been pulled along in the current, bobbing for air, resting occasionally and more often, fighting the  hold that it has had on me.

It's not as if I want to stay in this place.  I hate the darkness of my sorrow.  I hate the way that it steals my energy and my drive to accomplish the day to day chores and necessities, but it does.  So, I am trying to fight this monster-this thing called grief, before it steals the rest of the life that I've been given.

For 9 1/2 months, I haven't cared too much about myself.  I have literally eaten my sorrows.  Late at night and in the afternoon when no one is here, I eat.  I eat and I smoke and I stay planted on the couch.  The t.v. putting out mundane noises and my life revolving around this cyber-world that I have built for myself.  I have abused my body horribly.  I have forgotten what it feels like to want to look pretty.  And somehow I find safety and comfort in the ragged sweats and pony tails and lack of adornment that I've taken as my shield.  My outer appearance seems to reflect my inner turmoil.

I want to stop longing for you, Michael.  (Would that make you think that I want to forget you? Or that I no longer love you?).  I just want the pain and the sadness to end.  I want to laugh and I want to take a deep breath that doesn't burn my lungs.  I want to be the person that you loved.  And I want to learn to love myself.  To love the life that God has given me.  I want to bring laughter and happiness back into our home, so that I can parent our little guy.  And so, I'm going to start by trying to teach myself that even though I am a widow, I am still a person who deserves my care.

And Michael, I'm still a woman.  I'm still a woman who misses her husband.  Who misses the companionship of the person God created me for.  I feel as if my body and my spirit have gone into some sort of suspended animation.  I've forgotten what it means to be a woman.  And in loving a husband who is no longer here, I'm not sure that I know what to do with that part of who I am?  But, oh how I miss the way that you made me feel pretty.  I miss the intimacy of our marriage.  I miss hearing your sleep noises, feeling your warmth beneath the blankets.  I miss rolling over and laying my hand on you.  I miss your arms around me and I wonder if I will ever know what it is to be held again?  Remember how you would hug me in the kitchen and you would start to drop your arms and I would say "I'm not finished yet"?.  Baby, I really wasn't finished yet. I wasn't finished being a wife and a woman yet.

Baby, I miss you so much!  I am still so very much in love with you.  There is not a day, or a moment that I don't long for you with all that I am.  But somehow, even in this pain, I know that it's time to start caring about myself too.  It's time to start taking care of my body, it's time to start allowing myself to feel pretty..not for you, or for anyone else, but for myself.  Even your mother tells me that it's time to do that. So, I'm going to try.  I'm going to try my very best to take care of your wife.

I have a wonderful group of women who have surrounded me with friendship and the common bond of widowhood.  I have these beautiful friends that also know that it's time that we learn to love ourselves and so we are holding each other up in this quest for healing.  For learning that even though we are widows, that we are women also.  Women who are worthy of care and adornment.  Women who still have a lot to offer our families and the world.  God must have a purpose for us, or we would not still be here.  So, we will try, with this first step, to move into this unknown life that God has planned for us.

You are now and always will be, the love of my life.  But I know that I must move forward without you.  And as I move forward without you, I also move towards the day that I will be with you once again.

I love you, Baby.

Will We Be Married In Heaven?

My Sweet Michael,


It's been 9 months and 2 days since you've been gone.  Last night I was visited once again by my old friend "the ugly cry".  I have so many questions, so much desperation in looking for answers.  I miss you so very, very much and the reality of the fact that you're not coming back is starting to feel very real and very scary.  I still just can't get my mind around it completely.


I think one of the hardest questions is this:  Will you still be my husband in Heaven?  So many faiths believe that that there will be no marriage in Heaven.  This is based on Luke 20:27-38 (As well as Matthew 22:23-32 and Mark 12:18-27) (The sons of this age marry and are given in marriage; but they who shall be accounted worthy to obtain that age, and the resurrection from the dead, neither marry, nor are given in marriage; for they cannot any more die; for they are equal to the angels, and are the sons of God, being sons of the resurrection.”).

Jesus’ response addresses marriage as a legal contract – which is what the Sadducees were asking about – but it says nothing about marriage as the union of two souls. To understand this, it’s necessary to understand why the Sadducees were asking Him this question in the first place. The Sadducees “deny that there is any resurrection.” They were asking Jesus a question about marriage in the resurrection not because they were curious, but because they wanted to prove that there could not possibly be a resurrection at all. 

The kind of marriage that Jesus spoke of in contrast to the Mosaic marriage was a different thing entirely. He said, “On this account shall a man leave father and mother, and shall cleave to his wife; and the two shall be into one flesh. Wherefore they are no longer two, but one flesh. What, therefore, God has joined together, let not man put asunder,” and “Moses, because of your hard heartedness, permitted you to send away your wives; but from the beginning it was not so.” The ideal of marriage was that of Adam and Eve – not a legal contract but a union of souls. It is marriage, but in a sense so different from the idea of the Sadducees as to not even be deserving of the same name. 

From Bible.Org:  The implication of Scripture is that we will know our loved ones in heaven both before and after resurrection. The disciples were able to recognize the Lord after His death and resurrection. Scripture teaches us that we will have a glorified body like his (Phil. 3:21f) which suggests that what was true of His body will be true of ours.

Further, 1 Thessalonians 4:13-18 was written to believers, some of whom had lost a believing loved one. They were concerned about how death would affect those believing loved ones who had died before the Lord returned in person. In Paul’s answer to this he gave revelation that concerned several things: the rapture of living saints and the resurrection of believers who had died, but he also speaks of a reunion not only with the Lord, but with all believers. As a word of comfort this certainly speaks not only of the facts of the rapture and resurrection, but also of a reunion which would mean little if we could not recognize our friends and loved ones.

In addition, the Bible speaks of death and the rapture as being “at home” (see 2 Cor. 5:1-8 and John 14:1f) and this would also imply recognizing love ones.

In my heart, when I think about my own death, I "see" you greeting me on the other side.  I imagine that you will take my hand and walk with me and present me to Christ as your wife.  Scripture talks about the second coming and that the dead in Christ will rise first and be reunited with those of us left on Earth and THEN will join Christ (AFTER THAT, we who are still alive and are left will be caught up TOGETHER WITH THEM IN THE CLOUDS to meet the Lord IN THE AIR..." (I Thess.4:15-17 NIV).) 

So, Michael, here's what I think in a nutshell:  God created us in His image.  He created Adam and from Adam's own being (his rib), he created Eve.  He didn't use Adam's rib because He'd run out of dirt, He used Adam's rib because Eve was a PART of Adam.  All things on this Earth, God created for man's use and pleasure.  The Bible says that Heaven will be even more beautiful and more wonderful than this life. The Bible says that God does not change.  He is the same yesterday, today and tomorrow.  

So, if God created man and woman to be one flesh, why do people believe that in this ONE area, God would look down and say "Oh, wow, now THAT was a mistake...I sure don't want any of that up here in Heaven"?  If I'm wrong, then I sure wish that you would come back down here and tell me! (Which opens up a whole other theological discussion, doesn't it?  LOL!).

I guess when it comes right down to it, I know that Heaven will be wonderful.  I know that I will know you and recognize you and that we will love each other.  I don't think anyone disputes that much.  I also know that Heaven will be more amazing and magnificent than I can ever imagine with my poor, limited, earthly brain.  I know that I will be with my Savior.  I know that I will see you and love you and together, just like we did here on Earth, we will lift our arms and we will praise the Glory of God.

I love you so much, My Sweet Husband.  And I know that I will continue to love  you and be loved by you, in Heaven.

Do My Tears Mean I Have No Faith?

My Sweet Michael,

It's been almost 9 months since I last heard your voice or felt your arms around me.  I have cried a million tears with the missing of you.  My sorrow reaches deep within me and it seems as if it has no end.  Even in sleep, I awaken crying out to God to please send you home to me.  In all my life, I have known no suffering such as this.  I mourn the loss of the life we planned, the life we loved.  I mourn the love that I received and the love that I gave.  And I see no end to this sadness. 

 Psalm 31:10, 14-15 "I am dying from grief; my years are shortened by sadness.  Misery has drained my strength; I am wasting away from within.  But I am trusting you, O lord, saying, "You are my God!  My future is in your hands".  

I am a woman of faith.  You knew that, the world knows that.  Being a Christian is supposed to mean that we have hope.  Hope that we will see each other again.  Faith that God has a purpose in all of this, even if I don't understand it.  But do my tears mean that I have no faith?  Do my tears show that I don't trust God in this?  I know that there are those who look at people who profess great faith and yet lay sobbing in a messed up heap, and they must ask themselves "If her God is so great, why is she crying?  Why does she suffer?  If her God is so great, where is He when she needs him so much?".

I can tell you that losing you has tested my faith.  Losing you has brought anger against God that is so strong and so ferocious that the force of it scares me.  But losing you has never made me turn against God.  Losing you has never made me question my salvation.  Lamentations 3:13, 19-22 says "He shot his arrows deep into my heart.  The thought of my suffering and hopelessness is bitter beyond words.  I will never forget this awful time, as I grieve over my loss.  Yet I still dare to hope when I remember this:  The unfailing love of the Lord never ends!  By His mercies we have been kept from complete destruction".  

I know that God created my tears.  I know that Jesus was a man of sorrow and that He too cried.  I know that He catches my tears.  I know this because Psalms 56:8 says "You have collected all my tears in your bottle.  You have recorded each one in your book".  I know that my tears are precious to God.  I know that my tears are a gift that He gave me.  A gift of healing and release.  Isaiah 25:8 says "The Sovereign Lord will wipe away all my tears".   If God sees my tears of grief as being so important that He would collect them and save them, then how could my tears mean that I have no faith?

Even Jesus cried in grief.  When his good friend Lazarus died,  Jesus wept (John 11:35).  The shortest verse in the Bible, but one of the sweetest.  Jesus cried because his friend died.  He wept because of the pain it caused Lazurus' family, he wept because death was not in God's original plan.  He wept from his loss.  Does that mean that the Christ had no faith?  Of course not.  So, if my Savior cried over the death of a loved one, why would people think that a Christian who is grieving should be above the very Son of God?

I don't think that being a Christian eases the pain of loss.  I think that this pain is human and unavoidable.  BUT I do believe that we grieve with hope.  I do believe that to sorrow is Holy because Christ sorrows with us.  I believe that in my grief, that God loves me so much that He is here, right beside me, catching each and every single teardrop, letting not one go to waste, that He wipes away the tears with the hem of His robe.    So, yes, I grieve, but I grieve with hope in my heart.

Psalms 119:28-30 says "I weep with grief; encourage me by your word.  Keep me from lying to myself; give me the privilege of knowing your law.  I have chosen to be faithful; I have determined to live by your laws".  

And here is my hope:  Revelation 21:4 says : He will wipe every tear from their eyes, and there will be no more death or sorrow or crying or pain. All these things are gone forever."

And so, my beautiful, Sweet Michael, I will continue to cry and to mourn and to grieve.  And I will wait for that day that God has promised us.  The day when my tears will be wiped from my eyes and I will no longer cry over your death, but I will rejoice in our new life.

I love you so much, Baby.  And I miss you with all my heart.  I just have to hang onto God's hope until that day that I will see your wonderful face, hear your laughter and feel your warmth again.


This is one of my favorite songs.  Praise you in the storm by casting crowns.  Just copy and paste the link:  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xGPS8sa-bRQ