Wednesday, March 6, 2013

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

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.


  1. Thinking of you with deep understanding. You will always, always, always love him - as it should be. I think the photos of him are such a beautiful way to honor his life and to allow both you and Michaela to see his smile and to know, in your hearts, that he is always, always, always loving the both of you. I am glad you have tomorrow with off to be together with family. Sending prayers for it to be a day where you feel the love. hugs to you!

  2. Joannah, you are the strongest woman I know, and I am blessed to call you a good friend. Your strength and honesty are an inspiration to me. I can't help bu think that Michael is up in Heaven chuckling over the pink daisies. :-)

  3. Thinking of you and sending love
    this day, of course, with extra tenderness.
    I know each day is filled with memories and love for Michael,
    but I also know that there is something very different about marking the day itself,

    wishing you beauty today, and peace, and breath, and love


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