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.