Another Day

Tomorrow will be 2 months since I lost Michael. It's hard to believe how much my life has changed in those 2 months. I pulled out his cell phone tonight. I haven't cancelled his service yet. I don't know why but I can't bring myself to deactivate his phone. I can sleep in his clothes every night, but when I look at his phone it breaks me down. It smells like grease, like a shop. He was always working and always had his dirty hands on his phone listening to music. Even if he was home, he was always working on something. In his shop, he had a chainsaw in pieces across the table. It is still there, in pieces from where he was last tinkering with it. There are constant reminders everywhere like this of how my life changed literally overnight. Maybe sometimes I try to numb the pain by not looking at certain things, like his phone or going in his shop. Even things in my house I can't change or move yet. My art room I have not touched anything since he died. There is an empty diet coke can and a bottle of water that is open from where I was painting a few nights before he died. He worked like crazy to build me that room.

 I was so excited to finally have a place to paint in our new house. That room will always be close to my heart. Every time I look at it, it reminds me of him. I couldn't wait to paint it and put the stripes on it. I had Michael tape it up for me and he told me to wait a day to let the first coat of paint dry. But I couldn't. When I get something on my mind, it consumes me. And I was so excited I just had to paint the walls. He laughed at me when I pulled the tape off and part of the paint pulled off. He knew that if I wanted to do something, he just had to let me do it and there was no sense in trying to tell me different. So now I see the spots on the wall where the paint pulled off and I think of him. I look at the hard work he put into that room and think of him. He worked so hard to get it finished for me so quick. He was so great at everything he did. He would do anything to see me smile. He loved me so much. Some days it takes everything in me not to question God as to why Michael had to die at 33. I can get mad and ask "why??" but it doesn't bring him back. Nothing will bring him back. Part of me died with him on that night. There will always be a hole in my heart from him dying. 

Since Michael has died, it has changed my life in so many ways. I used to be afraid of dying. Now I am not scared. I know that if I died, I would be with him. And that makes me happy to think that I would be reunited with him. I hope that in time, this will allow me to live my life to the fullest. I see this as a blessing because so many people are afraid of dying, and I used to be one of them. Now, I'm not.

I learned that life can change in the blink of an eye. And it's not always fair.  Bad things happen to good people. But some people go through life and never experience what true love is. And I have. As painful as each day is with him being gone, I am one of the lucky ones. I know what it is like to have a man love you with all his heart and soul. I know what it is like to be in love. And I know that I will cherish this everyday of my life.

 

 

Choosing Life

The weather today has been cold and rainy. I did not get out of bed until 4 this afternoon. I think my body just becomes so exhausted from the lack of sleep during the week. Most people look forward to the weekends. I look forward to Monday. Monday-Friday, I feel some sense of purpose. On the weekends, I am left with the hollow emptiness of Michael being gone. At least during the week, I stay so busy with work, it helps to fill a void.

I have been reading a lot about losing your spouse. Sometimes I long for words to describe how I truly feel. I really connected with some of the things I'm reading right now.

"When you lose a mate, you lose part of yourself. It's as if you've had an amputation of an arm or leg. I think that you don't fully recover, you adjust."

I know its only been 2 months, but I never feel I will recover from this incident in my life. This has forever changed me. I try to be strong but some days I miss him so much, it is all I can do to make it through the day. When I feel weak, I turn to scripture. These have been inspirational to me.

"For I know the plans I have for you", declares the LORD, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. Then you will call upon me and come and pray to me, and I will listen to you. You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart." (Jeremiah 29: 11-13)

"Even in your old age and gray hair I am he, I am he who will sustain you. I have made you and I will carry you; I will sustain you and I will rescue you." (Isaiah 46:4)

"I am the LORD, who heals you." (Exodus 15:26)

"I trust in you, O LORD; I say, 'You are my God.' My times are in your hands; deliver me from my enemies and from those who pursue me." (Psalm 31: 14-15)

"Trust in the LORD with all you heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways acknowledge him, and he will make your paths straight." (Proverbs 3: 5-6)

And this one really stuck with me:
"I have set before you life...now choose life." (Deuteronomy 30:19)

To me, this is so powerful...God is telling me that he has given me this life and I must be strong and persevere. God has given me THIS life. I am His work. He knows the plans for me. So many things I do not understand about why I have to go through this pain and this anguish...But I have to trust God.

The book I am reading states, " It's often said that when you're dealing with hardship and hurt in your life, and great pain, you can either become bitter or you can become better. Challenge yourself always to let God do a work through you so you can become stronger and more effective."

I pray that God will make me a better person from this. I pray that God will use me in a way that will help others. I pray that I will be able to become a stronger, more faithful person.

I know that the love Michael and I shared will always be in my heart. He would want me to be strong. I know that with God and Michael by my side...I will get through this.

I am thankful everyday for this man and for this love. And although the pain in my heart is so strong, I am so glad that we had the chance to be reunited and we both had the chance to experience such an amazing feeling. You are always in my heart Michael. I love you.

 

 

Life is hard

Life is hard. Life is a lot harder when your husband dies suddenly and you are 29 years old. I thought life was hard but I really had no idea how hard life was until October 16, 2013. I have learned a lot of life, about people, about compassion, and about the bitterness that some harbor since that day. I pray to God every night, that He guide me in doing the right thing. I ask for His guidance every day. The past week as been hard for me. I try to stay busy. I try to stay preoccupied. But it doesn't always work. I am still forced to face with the reality of what is left of my life. I'm left to pick up the thousands of pieces.

This week, like any week, had its own share of challenges.  I had been having an extremely hard time packing up the remaining stuff of the boys at my house. I cried each time I put stuff in the bags to give them. I cried because I miss them. I cried because some things I put were things they made with their daddy. I cried because its like ripping your chest out to not only lose your husband, but your two stepsons at the same time. I cried because they will never get to do things with their daddy. They will miss out so much because no one will ever take the place of their daddy. I also cried because I know I will miss out on their lives so much. BUT I still wanted to do what is right, and give the boys their toys, and belongings from our house. I know at this point, I will not get to see the boys. This act was purely from my heart that I am giving those things to them because I want them to have the special stuff we all did together when Michael was alive. I have accepted the fact that I will not be able to be a part of these children's lives.  It breaks my heart but I know it breaks MICHAEL's heart even more.  Michael was not a Church Going man, but he had a relationship with God. He was a man with a heart of gold. He wanted the best for his children no matter what he had to go through. Michael worked 7 days a week to provide for them. He knew how much I loved them, and he knew how much they loved me. Nic painted this sign for me and told me to put it in mine and his daddy's room. And that is what we did. I will forever cherish this small memories we made together.

 I talk to God and I talk to Michael and each day I ask them for strength and guidance. I ask them to fill my heart and soul with love, compassion, forgiveness and direction. Yesterday I finally got what I needed from Michael as far as guidance. I can see his face and his big smile and know exactly what he would say to me. I don't need to share...but I know the exact words he would say to me. In fact he's been pushing me for a long time to do this but I had to learn my own way. I try to accept things for what they are and not question God. I must remember he has a bigger plan and as hard as it is...I do the best I can.


Friday night, The millwright shop had their Christmas Party and invited me to come. I knew this would be a hard night. I went for a little while and was glad to see everyone. But at the same side, Michael was missing. I tried to hold it in for as long as I could but the tears started and I had to go back home. Probably the worst meltdown I've had in two weeks. Full blown, crying, couldn't catch my breath, head is about to explode meltdown. I was in a really low spot, but called a friend and was amazed at how much strength you can draw from friends and their advice. I am blessed in so many ways and I am thankful for these blessings, even on the days I don't acknowledge them.

This weekend was bad. I laid in bed all day Saturday and Sunday. Sometimes the pain will linger for several days. I think when you try to hold in your emotions, it will just bust like a dam and it is overwhelming. I deal with more emotions on a daily basis than I thought was humanly possible. I guess sometimes my body just has to catch up and rest from the daily struggles I go through. Each day is another battle, some battles I win...some battles I lose. But I will win the war. It will just be a long war...long and painful. Sunday my sister cooked dinner for my Mom's birthday. I hadn't seen Michael all weekend because I was so emotionally drained I didn't even have the strength to go. So I finally went Sunday night to see him. I miss him so much and hurt so bad at all the things that have happened and continue to happen. But I trust in God to battle the demons in my life. He is in control ultimately. I know I must be strong and keep a pure heart and not lose sight of the person I truly am inside. God blessed me with a loving compassionate heart....a strong heart. And I have to keep hope.

In the book I am reading it states, "The bottom is a lot deeper than you would even think. Even during the heaviest, most hurtful times of your grieving experience, you, too, can share the hope that only Jesus brings."

"We have this hope as an anchor for the soul, firm and secure" (Hebrews 6:19)

Thanksgiving down...Christmas left to go

Everyone knows that holidays are hard when you have lost someone.  Just 6 weeks ago I experienced the greatest loss of my life so far. Right in time for the Holidays. Lucky me.

This is pretty much what I do everyday. I do a lot of reminding myself to stop. breathe. and cry if I have to. Sometimes the pain is so strong the tears will just start flowing down my face for no apparent reason. Other than the fact my husband has just died and I feel broken into a million pieces. Some days I can talk about Michael, memories, his death, anything and not shed a tear. It is the damnest thing how grief works. You just had to get through the day and then another day comes and you have to get through it. And then the next thing you know, 6 weeks has passed and it feels like it was so long ago but so soon at the same time. Greif is a tricky little monster.

 In one of the books I am reading it says, "Greif is not an enemy or sign of weakness. It is a sign of being human. It is the cost for loving someone." I loved a man with all my heart and he died and now I feel like I am being punished some days. I know that is not the case, and I feel extremely blessed to have had the chance to experience what real love was...but that doesn't stop that dagger that stabs up and down in my heart everyday. That feels like punishment to me. There are days I question a lot of things. I spent my whole adult life regretting not being with Michael. I will tell our story one day when I am bring myself to talk about that. But I spent years thinking I let the love of my life slip away. So to get a second chance was an unbelievable blessing from God. I remember seeing him for the first time in 10 years. 10 years had passed and when I looked at him, I felt the same way I did after all those years. It felt like no time had passed, even though in reality A LOT of time had passed and our lives had taken such different paths that we originally thought. How amazing that God would bring two people back together that believed they were soul mates all these years, but accepted the life they had chosen despite NOT being together for so many years. Almost every day after we got back together we talked about God's timing, and how maybe there was a reason after all. We knew that we had a second chance at life and a second chance to have the happiness we both deserved.

It is hard for me to understand a lot of things right now. It is hard for me to understand what my life is supposed to mean. God gave me the man I always wanted...he gave him BACK to me and then HE DIES??  You wait your whole life to find that person and I lost him once and I understood how special it was to have him again. How can I get just a few short years with this man that I was supposed to spend forever with?? I struggle with this everyday. The roller coaster of emotions from low to high to low is truly unimaginable. I know that God does not make mistakes. But I struggle trying to figure out why this is happening.  On a day like today when everything reminds me of him, and the pain of not having him becomes to great to bear...I struggle with why he had to die. And why I had to be left to pick of the pieces of a life I only wanted if he was apart of it.

I bought his Christmas decorations today when I was in Florence. This gentleman asks me, "Oh, you must be doing a blue Christmas tree this year?" I stood there for a minute deciding on what to say. The easiest thing would have been to just say "Yes" and walk off. But instead I told him the truth. I told him they were for the grave of my husband that recently had passed away. And so it begins, having to tell perfect strangers, who asks seemly nice questions...the truth about my life. I'm 29, yes I wear a wedding ring, No I'm not married technically. My husband died. 6 weeks ago.  AND shoot the arrow into my heart now.

And so I decided on blue and silver because my heart is blue. And Michael's favorite color was blue. I made the heart wreath. I wanted to do something different and something special. I made it at the graveside in the dark, so I probably need to work on it some. But I'm impatient and I couldn't wait until tomorrow to put it out. And of course the deer, which I'm pretty sure is a reindeer, but it fits. So there it is...Christmas with Michael this year. I'm not decorating. I'm not in the spirit. But I can sit with him and his blue decorations and get through my first Christmas with him as an Angel.  Please say an extra prayer for me as Christmas approaches. I don't know how I will manage to get through it.

But God reminds me...

"I have set before you life...now choose life" (Deuteronomy 30:19)

And so I end with this prayer:

Precious Lord, you know the desires of my heart. In my confusion give me peace to know that You are in control of all life and You do not make mistakes. Amen

The Survivor Tree

Each day I try to find strength in something, so I can get through to the day. I t doesn't happen every day. Some days are just plain awful. I cry a lot. I hurt a lot. And I feel numb. Some days I am stronger, and I smile and even laugh. This past weekend was filled was mostly smiles and laughter and I am extremely thankful for that.

4 of my best friends, and myself went to New York City from Thurs-Sun. This trip had been planned since this summer. It was a surprise for Megan's 30th birthday. I, myself, care nothing about big cities. I am a small town, slow pace, talk s-l-o-w kind of girl. I really had no desire to go to New York City. But I didn't want to miss out on the chance to spend 4 days with 4 of my best friends. So I said I would go. God must have known how much I would have needed this trip.

Although this trip was not what I would call "relaxing"...it was a break from my everyday painful life. All my friends know I am stricken with panic attacks...and have anxiety like no other. I fainted in my own wedding...twice. It's nothing new with me. I just deal with it. I don't do crowds, I don't do big cities, I don't do fast pace...but after going through the worst phase in my life...I could handle New York. I have been forced to deal with so many uncomfortable things since Michael's death...I am becoming used to the feeling of being "unfamiliar". I never knew a person could feel so many emotions and feel so much pain. Life has a funny way of sneaking up on you and knocking you off your feet.

My favorite part of the trip was visiting Ground Zero. I think by so recently experiencing tragedy, my heart was overcome with emotion by visiting this memorial. As I walked down the streets, I imagined the fear and panic that those people must have felt. I cringed at the thought of what it must have been like to be a part of 9/11. You watch stories on tv and you see the news...but it really hit me hard when I was there. I began to think of all the people who were lost that day. And I couldn't help but think of ALL the people who LOST someone. I am one person, and I feel so much pain. Try to imagine all the loved ones who lost someone to that terrible attack. My heart just felt so heavy. Having going through a loss, it was all I could think of to feel the pain of so many.

They place a rose by the name of someone if their birthday is on that day. I didn't even notice this until after I posted the name was Michael. The only rose I saw that day, and his name was Michael.

This is the Survivor Tree and this is the story:

 

 “The tree was originally planted at the world trade center complex in the 1970′s. It was discovered in the rubble weeks after the 9/11 attacks with snapped roots and a blackened trunk. It was taken to the Arthur Ross Nursery in van Cortlandt Park in The Bronx and nursed back to health. It was 8 feet tall at the time of the attacks and now stands 35 feet tall. It was replanted at the site on 12/22/2010. The tree symbolizes the city and country’s resilience“.

 

This just really struck me as inspirational. I read it over and over and just think about what that means.  "Standing tall, it bears witness to the possibility of renewal and serves as a living reminder of our shared strength in the face of even the most unimaginable tragedy."

 



Standing with the Survivor Tree. A survivor myself. I know I have a long way to go. And a lot of hurt, and hurdles to face. I am glad I went on this trip. This trip was good for my soul. It was good to be with my friends. It was good to remember what laughter is like. I am thankful I visited this memorial and learned about this tree. I feel like this tree has helped me and will help me in remembering that I am strong and I am a survivor.

I miss him

Today has been a hard day. I stayed in my pajamas until 2. And when I say "pajamas" I mean Michael's clothes. Since the night he died, that is all I sleep in. Mostly just his shirts, but he had one pair of Clemson pajama pants that somehow I can wear without them falling off of me. The only reason I got dressed was because Thursday I decided I was going to go hunting this weekend. And even though I really didn't feel like going, because it was just one of those days. I knew I should go. Doing things we did together when he was alive makes me feel close to him. It makes me MISS him more, but for a short time, while I was in the deer stand I felt like he was still here and we were
hunting together.

I wore his hat. One of his main "hunting" hats. He had a ton of hats, but he had his favorites. This one was one of his favorites. It came out of his truck when he died. I can't be 100% sure he was wearing it the night he died, but I would put money on it. There was another hat that was in his truck, that was a "hunting" hat...but this Bass Pro Shops was his favorite out of all of hunting/knock around hats. My mom bought me a cross necklace when he died and I put his wedding ring on the chain. The cross fits perfect in the ring. I wear this pretty much everyday. It reminds me that I have God and Michael close to my heart, right where I need them. I also tied a piece of his shirt around my wrist. The shirt he was wearing when he died. I know that may be strange but I don't see it as him "dying" in these things...but rather they were the last thing he was wearing when he was alive. If he wasn't so damn big, I would probably try to wear his hunting clothes...but if you knew him...you knew he was 6'4", 225 LBs of solid man. And my small frame just gets lost in his clothes.

It made him so happy that we shared the same interests in hunting and guns. He was so great at teaching me so many things. He always joked about how great my aim was...and he knew better than to make me mad with an aim like that. I love remembering little things like that. It makes me smile, cry too, but smiling through tears is a common thing these days.

 

 

Michael was not perfect by any means. But one thing he did without any reservation was love me, his boys, and his mama. He always made me feel safe in his arms. He always took care of me. He protected me. He didn't want "nothing but the best for my baby" as he would say. I miss that now. I miss those feelings of being protected and comforted by him. It feels like an empty hole inside of me that longs for him to make this hurting go away. Because he always made the hurt go away. I struggle with trying to be strong, because I always looked to him. He was the strong one. He was the rock in our relationship...not me. He was the one that took all my stress away because he didn't want me having to deal with anything I didn't have to. I've never known a love like the love he had for me. He told me 13 years ago that NOBODY would ever love me like he did. And in those years that we were apart, I discovered that he was right. Time and circumstance had separated us, but in our hearts...deep down, we were never separated. We always were in each other's hearts. It seems so unfair that we got our second chance in 2011, only to be separated again. And wouldn't you know that on the day he died...he was still telling me that NOBODY would love me like he did. At 4:50 on Oct 16, he was telling me how much he loved me.


And then just several hours later he was dead. Just like that.
And my life stopped. The life I knew was over. It will never
be the same. I haven't figured out how I am going to get
through this without him. The pain I feel some days is so unreal, I don't want to get up and face the day. I don't want to think about tomorrow, or the next day. I just somehow manage to make it through each day. I don't know why this happened. I know I will never meet a man like him ever again. But I am thankful I knew a love that was pure and true. A love that some people search their whole lives and never find. A love that could conquer anything that was thrown our way.
I thank God that I had the time I did with him. I am honored he chose me to be his wife. I am honored he declared his love for me and spent everyday trying to prove to me how much he loved me. It may have been short and I may never understand why he was taken. But I can say I know what true love is and I know what true love is supposed to be like. I will cherish that all my life.

And that is why I love this quote from Steel Magnolias:

"I would rather have thirty minutes of wonderful than a lifetime of
nothing special."

 

I miss you every day Michael.

Even the man in the moon is crying

It's funny how things that seem important one day, can seem irrelevant the next. I have always loved college football. I have always loved the Clemson Tigers. Any Clemson fan, knows how the Tigers can drive you crazy, raise your blood pressure, give you a heart attack and fill your body with excitement all at the same time. This year, like many Clemson fans, I was so excited about the upcoming season. But now I sit here, with the game starting in less than 10 minutes and I could careless about football. Football seems so irrelevant to me right now. The first game they lost was the day Michael was buried. Any other time, I would have been so upset, so emotional, so frustrated with that football game. But instead, just hours before, I attended a funeral. A funeral where I was the guest of honor. A funeral that I thought I would possibly have to attend, just not for another 50 years.

Today was a good day at work. I have a feeling that work is going to be my saving grace. Which is ironic, because the whole reason I started working at Sonoco was so Michael and the boys could live in Hartsville. It was my idea, I pushed it and I wanted the easiest thing for the man I loved and his kids. So it's hard to think that just 6 short months ago, the only reason I moved and changed jobs was for him. And now he is gone. Every reason I am where I am, is because of Michael. But I know God has a plan for me...and there is a bigger reason to why I am there. And there is a reason for everything and I have to trust in God and keep my faith.

Despite having a good day at work, this afternoon has been hard. I drove down the road he wrecked on. It's not uncommon. I have stopped many times and stood in the spot where he died. I have picked up pieces of his truck and random things like bolts that came out of his toolbox. I keep all these small pieces of him trying to hang on to every last thing that surrounded him.  I stand there sometimes, in this field and think...there are 1000 ways he could have survived but reality is he didn't. I know it may be weird, but I have to visit this place. And I have to look at pictures of his truck and stare at the mangled mess that was left of it. I have to do this to remind myself this is real.

I have walked the tracks his tires left many times. I try to imagine what must have been going through those final moments. I know it all happened so fast he probably didn't have time to realize the severity of what was happening.

He didn't die alone as someone he knew happened to see the wreck take place. I am thankful he wasn't in pain when he died. I know he didn't know he was dying. His last words were, "get me outta here buddy." And he took a few deep breaths and the was it. In this spot. He died holding the hand of a guy he knew. And while it may seem crazy for me to revisit these spots, it just helps me cope with the reality that he is gone. It is like a double edged sword. I stand here and know this is where he took his last breath, but also this is the last place he was alive.

 I will never forget the pain I felt as I drove up to see his truck flipped and knowing he was inside. I will never forget the panic as someone came up to me and said, "there was nothing we could do for him." I will never forget that sinking feeling in my heart when I realized what just happened. I will never forget the feeling of not being able to breath. Hearing the EMS yell, "She's hyperventilating, we need oxygen." The shock of my body locking up and not being able to move my hands and not feeling my legs. All while strangers and by standers stood by and looked on. I was there, all alone, with no one I knew, discovering my husband had been in a fatal wreck. These memories will never leave my mind. It replays like a bad nightmare over and over.  So I visit this spot now, and feel the calmness that was not there that night. It's just a spot in a field, but it will forever be the last spot where Michael was last alive. The last spot he was alive and breathing. The spot where God called him home. And that is where the peace comes from. Despite all the chaos of that night, I find peace in knowing God saved my husband in so many ways from dying a slow, painful, fearful death. Yes, there are a 1000 ways he could have survived. But he didn't. And Only God knows why.

4 weeks and 10,000 views

Today makes 4 weeks since the night that changed my life. And today I reached over 10,000 views of my blog. This amazes me. Who would have ever thought so many people would be interested in my most personal thoughts. But then who would have thought my life would have turned out the way it has? I certainly would not believe someone if they would have told me this a few months ago. I saw this picture and it perfectly describes me:

 

I don't know if I feel strong...but people tell me every day how strong I am. I guess I don't have a choice. If I want to live, I have to be. I don't have any other option, but to suffer through the pain everyday. I breathe in...I breathe out...and I repeat. And that has been by life the past 4 weeks.

 

I have said that I felt Michael was my purpose in life. I said that when he was alive, and I say it now.  So now that he is gone, naturally I feel I have no purpose in life. I know that is a bold statement to make but it's how I feel. I was asked to go on an overnight trip with work to visit my plant in North Carolina. Initially I said there would be no way. I can't go sit at my desk without crying so I didn't want to go meet new people in the emotional state I have been in. What a great first impression that would be. But after taking the weekend to think about it, I decided I would go. I have worked at Sonoco for 6 months now and communicate on a daily basis with the plant. I wanted to put faces to names, and voices. I wanted to be strong. And I wanted to go. And yes, I did cry.

 

I can not say enough good things about the people I work with. They have embraced my situation and poured out love and support with open arms. They take care of me like family. I am blessed to have this job, and I feel that as I struggle to find purpose...I look to my job. I do feel valued and appreciated and this does give me strength to go back to work. This gives me a feeling that I am needed. And at a time when my life is in a shambles...it is amazing to feel needed. To have that support means more than I can express.

 

I am glad I went. It was a welcomed change of scenery. I learned a lot more about my job and learned more about how the plant operates. And a glimpse of purpose came back into my life. As hard as it is, I am thankful that God gave me the strength to go and I am glad to have learned the things I did. I am thankful for coworkers that genuinely care about me. I am thankful God allows me to be able to see the silver linings in the clouds. I came home with a good feeling. And those have been few and far between in the last 4 weeks.

 

I could write about the pain my heart feels everyday. But today I chose to write about a small triumph for me. Small things are big things these days.



 

 "The LORD will fulfill his purpose for me; you love, O LORD, endures forever--do not abandon the works of your hands" (Psalm 138:8)

The Happiest Day of my Life

The happiest day of my life was May 12, 2012. The day Michael and I were married.

Part of the grieving process is going through a "denial" stage. Today I am having a "denial day".  One of the books I am reading is called, "Through a Season of Grief." It states:

"Denial is a natural reaction to one of life's most painful events. Your body uses denial as a protective device, be it consciously or subconsciously, to avoid facing reality."

I found it to be completely accurate in the next paragraph, "The clock will mean nothing anymore," say Rev. John Coulombe. "Barely the calendar. People won't know what day it is, yet their senses are more keenly aware than ever before. It's like a dream that is happening, and they can't get out of it. Everything is in slow motion. But this is normal; this is a response to death."


So today, I'm in denial that Michael has died, because I don't want him to be gone. I want him here. I don't want to be forced to believe the cold hard truth that my life has now become.

Instead I am sharing pictures from the happiest day of my life.

 My dad sang "I cross my heart" by George Strait for our first dance. When we dated the first time, one of our favorite movies was Pure Country. So my dad learned the song, and sang it for us.

 The most handsome man I have ever laid eyes on.