Three Years Later

When March 7th comes around each year, I feel like I have nothing new to say when I post this memorial tribute to him.

I still love Michael.

I still miss him.

Sometimes I still can't believe that this happened to us.

But it did.

Before everything happened I really didn't think I could live without him. A future without Michael was unthinkable to me. Thankfully, the Lord has shown me otherwise. He has blessed me with Michaela, and while she is her own person, there is enough of Michael in her that I kind of feel like I see him every day. That is such a sweet gift.

Three years later, I have dealt with most of my grief issues, but I have not put away the pictures. They are there for me as much as they are there for Michaela. I want her to know what her daddy looks like - and she has from before she was even a year old. I stop and look at them frequently, remembering the things we did together, and enjoying his incredible smile. Sometimes I still cry a little bit, but usually I take comfort in knowing that I will see him again - and then we'll never have to say goodbye.

I'm very grateful for the part of my life that I shared with Michael, but I wish that it had been much, much longer.

There seems to be a song for almost everything, and this one is one that always comes to mind when I'm missing Michael:

Your smile lights up a room

Like a candle in the dark

It warms me through and through

And I guess that I had dreamed

We would never be apart

But that dream did not come true

[Chorus:]

Missing you is just a part of living

Missing you feels like a way of life

I'm living out the life that I've been given

But baby I still wish you were mine

And I cannot hear the telephone

Jangle on the wall

And not feel a hopefull thrill

And I cannot help but smile

At any news of you at all

And I guess I always will

{Missing You ~ Amy Grant}

I still love you, Honey.

I took Michaela by Michael's niche at the memorial park today. We didn't stay long. It's not really a place for little ones, and I don't get any comfort standing there looking at his urn. Michael isn't there. He's in Heaven. He's okay. He's more than okay. I'm okay. I'm really okay. I was disappointed that the red roses I ordered for the week turned out to be deep pink gerber daisies instead. Oh, well...

Tomorrow I have arranged to have a substitute so that I can take the day. We'll spend it with Michael's mom and his sisters. I'm sure it will be a good day in spite of the reason why we're getting together.