Dear Michael

Dear Michael,

It’s your earthly birthday. I’m so thankful we purposely celebrated to distinguish from Christmas gifts and parties.

There was the simple homemade meal because money was tight as we started our lives completely over.  It was the surprise of finding out your youngest son would be born your 50th year. It was the surprise trips, twice, to NYC - once with just us, and the last, sharing the magic with Grace and Sam. There was also the philharmonic and the ballet. And a few, simply reading while a fire burned with instrumental holiday music in the background.

The last two were bittersweet and painful. The final radiation and chemotherapy day, ending with a trip to Tulsa in an ice storm and dinner with our dearest friend Mark (who you welcomed his wife Nadine to your Heavenly home recently). The last, our last “date,” riding a wave of the joy of a clear scan, only to crash four days later with the tragic, painful loss of hopes and dreams.

You’re remembered every day. I always heard people say, “time heals all wounds.” There are a lot of happy days and God has been good, giving and gracious to us in so many ways. I’m not ungrateful for all He has done to bring beauty from the ashes.

But this year has been the hardest, most painful one yet since you flew to Heaven. I never thought a year could outdo the year you died. This one has compounded so many feelings of loss, of questioning God, of broken spirits, of helplessness, and of uncertainty.

I’ve wished so many times there was a line to Heaven, if for no other reason than for Sam or Grace to call you. I have a reoccurring dream that I’m desperately trying to find the slip of paper with your number I’ve misplaced. I awoke early this morning from one as I write this letter. I feel like I’ve failed. I just don’t have the words or the heart sometimes. Even with all the love that surrounds us, sometimes, especially for a now 14-year-old boy who worshipped the ground you walked on, I wish he could hear his dad tell him, “I’m so proud of you. Everything will be ok.”

You’re a tough one not to immortalize with each passing year. I realized this summer what a calming, encouraging, and safe harbor you naturally were as I’ve sought that refuge that once was now more than ever. I thought I was strong. The grief and pain of this year has forced me to learn to be quiet, to take deep breaths, to be compassionate with myself, and to be patient with others. It’s a work in progress, especially that, “compassionate with myself,” part.

So many people have died. So many people are sick and isolated. So many people are fighting, ending friendships, and just a general sadness and anger prevails. I’ve recalled the memory at MD Anderson the morning after your surgery to remove the first brain tumor, of the Nigerian nurse, Barikwa (meaning “right hand of God”), gently opening the door to your room singing her version of Psalms 30:5: “Sing oh Saints, weeping may fill our night, but joy, oh precious joy, comes in the morning.” I’m ready for the sunrise and the joy.

Since I can’t find your “number,” I just do what sometimes I need to do... I write you a letter.

Although it’s filled with more sadness than gifts this time, at some point today, we’ll pause and watch your memorial video and remember the years you were here and the gift of your love.
I’m also reminded of the words of song we listened to those last few, precious days as your reply back to us that I’ll capture as your reply here today.

Lori

NEVER ALONE
May the angels protect you, trouble neglect you
And heaven accept you when it's time to go home
May you always have plenty, the glass never empty
And know in your belly, you're never alone
May your tears come from laughing, you find friends worth having
As every year passes, they mean more than gold
May you win and stay humble, smile more than grumble
And know when you stumble, you're never alone
Never alone, never alone
I'll be in every beat of your heart when you face the unknown
Wherever you fly this isn't goodbye
My love will follow you, stay with you, baby, you're never alone
Well, I have to be honest as much as I wanted
I'm not gonna promise that cold winds won't blow
So when hard times have found you and your fears surround you
Wrap my love around you, you're never alone
Never alone, never alone
I'll be in every beat of your heart when you face the unknown
Wherever you fly this isn't goodbye
My love will follow you, stay with you, baby, you're never alone