It has been many weeks since I have written here. This is mostly because of my busy work/school schedule, but also because I had nothing to say. When I decided to make a blog it was with the purpose of not only writing about my grief, but also creating conversations for anyone reading the blog. I also wanted to give myself a space to think in writing. It is an aspect of my own grief to get in the mode of denying my feelings. This does work as a coping skill---if only temporarily.

One of my promises to myself after Michael's accident was to incorporate "Mike-ism's" into my life. Mike was extremely interested in numbers and how they related to life. His favorite numbers were 3 and 7 because of their Biblical references. He liked how intrinsic numbers are to life. I, on the other hand despise anything that relates to math. If it were possible, I would never take another math class; but in finishing my bachelor's degree my University decided to torture me with this subject. This week we studied Probability. It made me think of Michael, and of the creator of Math (no, not the Greeks). This morning I had to write about proofs for the Pythagorean Theorem. When I saw this assignment I wanted to run screaming from my computer, but I had to do it "urgh". I, unbelievably, enjoyed it. The reason that it made me think of Michael is because he knew that numbers always show that there are no coincidences in life. This went along with his intuitiveness. Seven days prior to his accident he met me at Stone Brewery's Bistro. We were there while Austin worked and Jeanette and Dewey met us there. I was talking to Austin and when I turned to look at Michael. His eyes were filled with tears. He grabbed my arm and said that he didn't want me to be sad if something happened to him. When I saw the look on his face my eyes welled with tears too. I said "Honey, don't say that. Nothing is going to happen to you".

There is sense even when life seems senseless. Michael's accident seems senseless to me now, but I know that the God who created math (and me) will also reveal the meaning to me when I see him. In the meantime, I will take another lesson from Mike---to "think differently". Life is rife (yeah I'm a poet) with challenges. Some days I am willing to meet them, and other days I struggle. Today, I am reminded that there is an order to everything and that gives me some peace.

The days come and go with little recognition of time passing. Working and schoolwork take up the majority of my time. The landscape of my grief is littered with thoughts that punch me in the gut, and sweet memories that I cling to. I have a photos on my nightstand of Mike. In one of them he is a baby---nine months old---and he is peeking over my shoulder with his bright blue eyes and his precious face with a look of curiosity. I also have a recent photo and he has that sweet vulnerable look on his face that melts my heart. It was Mike's habit to call me everyday and say "What are you doing?" I miss those calls so much. I miss his unique personality that brought me such joy and frustration. Yes, I even miss the frustration.
Surprisingly, my faith has not taken a hit. But, I don't understand why my family has to be decimated like this. How does this fit into any plan? I'm struggling God----help!
I read a book by Marybeth Chapman (wife of Steven Curtis Chapman) whose daughter died after her brother accidentally hit her with their car. She wrote with unflinching clarity about her grief. I related to every word she wrote. It felt like someone understood that fierce "mommy" love that can't let go.
It seems so unfair, but I already know that life isn't fair. Life is a journey, that at the moment is painfully arduous.

Be thankful for the little things:

Like playing Bunco with the ladies. What a great group of women. They make me laugh and help me forget my broken heart.

A bright full moon peeking out from behind clouds in the night sky.

Winning $11.00 playing Bunco.

A thirst for a deeper knowledge of God.

Memories.

Benadryl---so I can sleep.

Good Grief. Is that an oxymoron?

I have a CD with that name. What exactly does that mean?

Maybe it is what you get after you see a psychiatrist.

It was suggested to me that is what I should do for my grief. Really?

There is no good, easy, orderly, sane way to experience grief. It is a gut-wrenching horror that changes you forever. This knowledge comes from experience---so what could a psychiatrist add to that (drugs maybe)?

I know that God will use this in my life for good, but I don't yet see that. I also know that I can cover my brokenness by going on "auto-pilot" to survive, but I am missing pieces of myself that were created by loving David and Michael. When you dearly love someone they inhabit the fabric of who you are. I am not the "me" I was. It's hard not being Mike's Mom.

I am mostly in a fog, and it is tempting to get lost in that fog, but then two names come into my head---Jeanette and Austin.

Here's a good quote: "After you have suffered a little while, the God of all grace, who has called you to his eternal glory in Christ, will himself restore, confirm, strengthen, and establish you". I Peter 5:10

I have several reasons for starting this blog, but the only one I can "own up to" is my desire to have a place to communicate my thoughts during this unwanted fork in the road. Words have power...hopefully to heal.

The background photo is the last one taken of my family all together. It was taken a few months prior to David's passing. Although he does not look like his healthy self I still love this photo. We were coming home after a visit to Vegas to see The Blue Man Group show. We had a blast. We were never very good about taking a lot of photos, which makes this one a treasure. Austin took this one with his phone. I love my precious family.

It has only been a little more than a month since Michael's accident took his life. What can a Mommy say? His unique light in my life is gone and I am suffering daily. Comfort----what's that? Hope----yes. My Christian faith gives me the hope of seeing David and Michael again in Paradise. But, I LIVE in the "meantime". So, lately that involves reading everything I can get my hands on related to discovering my life in God, faith, and my ultimate purpose here in the years ahead.

Which of us actually accepts that life in all of its glory includes suffering? I know I don't, and I have had a "lion's share" of it. On my better days, I know that there must be some ultimate good that will come from my losses. But, on my worst days my vision for that is as clear as mud. In fact, if someone could see into my brain I am sure it looks like a Chinese checkers game and someone is taking a long time to make a move.

I am so grateful for the family and friends who have prayed, called, texted, and written. The effect is immeasurable. Mike's friends, especially, have shown their love for him in ways that are written on my heart.

I am going to TRY to journey forward. But I know that will involve many missteps and falls backwards. Maybe I will learn something along the way that I can pass along.