A Time to Process

For months, since Mike's passing, I have had the overwhelming need to get away for some R & R, to somehow "process" these past three years...if that is possible.  If nothing more, I have kept that goal out in front of me, to keep me moving forward.  The time has come, and I'm looking so forward to this break.

When you lose someone you have loved for a lifetime, and so completely; you want nothing more than to fold into a fetal position and exit the world with them. There have been times, when I have felt such despair, it took everything I had to get up and go on.  The climb has been steep, exhausting, and draining. And many times it has been very confusing.

There has been a time for mourning. I have spent months trying to figure out how to survive.  I have come to realize; no matter how much I hate it, life has changed.  And unless I want to be a fractured part of who I once was, from here on out, I need to find some way to move forward...if not, but for my children and grandchildren. I need their support.  I need them to walk courageously forward with me. 

I want my home to be filled with laughter again.  I want the chaos.  I want the traditions and the hugs.  And I want to do whatever it takes to bring back life to our family. 

I realize I can't be Mike.  Nobody can. Nobody wants to be.  His spirit filled every room he was in.  But things are going to be different and we need to rally and encircle our family.  And make the play as a team.

We're going to need to exercise grace, as we all come to a place of acceptance, and I pray it will be with open minds and hearts.  What would Mike want us doing?  Living on...or being stuck in yesterday, which we can't change?! 

As I slowly accept reality; I hope it is possible to recapture the spirit our family once possessed, even without Mike at his earthly helm.  His spirit lives within our minds and hearts, he is at Jesus' side and we have the promise to be with him again.  I believe with all my heart he is watching over us, as our Heavenly Father gives us strength and support, to do what feels so uncomfortable and painful for us right now. 

I'm anxious to walk the beach when the sun rises and sets.  Mike and I had many memories doing this together, and even though I'll be doing it alone, I will remember those sweet moments we made over the years oceanside.  There before a  sea of endless, salt water; if tears fall, it will be okay.  The expanse of the sea will remind me of how big God is, and how much He has seen me through.  At the bleakest moment, He has surrounded me with His comfort and angels (many of you).

Maybe there can be life and happiness again some day.