December 22. 2005

My Darling Mike,

It has been 2 years today since you’ve been gone.  I rejoice for you.  I can’t think of anyone who deserves to share in the glory of Heaven more than you.  I often wonder how you spend your time now.  I often wonder if there are fire trucks in Heaven.  I laugh when I think of you telling God, “I gotta go” as you hear the sound of the fire siren going off.

I think the hardest thing about losing you has been not having a soul mate to share my thoughts with.  I miss that most of all.  No matter what, you were always there to listen and to help me up when I fell.  You understood that you don’t need to blow out someone else’s candle to make your own burn brighter. 

From the moment I heard the news that you had died, I vowed not to hide my grief. I earned this grief, and no one is going to take it away from me.  Grief is the price you pay for having loved someone and lost them.  There is nothing in my life that is untouched by your death.  There isn’t an hour that goes by that I don’t think about you. 

My last 2 years have been spent learning how to be “me”, instead of part of “we”.  All in all Mike, so many people have shown me incredible kindness.  I have found wonderful friends I never even knew I had.  I have found an inner strength I never knew I had.  I have learned to draw on your strength and wisdom and make it part of me.  That is the beautiful, unending gift that you gave me.  That is the gift I now open every day.  It is what sustains me.  There are so many that have never experienced that joy.  I thank my God everyday for the gift of having had you in my life.

I have learned to go on, albeit wounded.  Ever so slowly, I am learning to live each day with joy and gratitude. As for the old adage that time heals all wounds, I don’t think so!  No matter how long I am on this earth, this hole in my heart will never completely heal. 

Yes, time has softened the bitter edges of grief.  I have learned how to keep my grief inside.  I have learned that the grief becomes a part of you, just like your smile.  The hardest part has been learning not to let the grief replace the joy of having had you in my life. Like an amputee, I have learned to walk again, but not without the help of many wonderful friends and a merciful Savior who provides unending grace.  Most days I can now look at your picture and smile.  Every once in a while, the grief monster still pays an unexpected visit.

I know that one sweet day I will be with you again.  Until that day, a candle burns in my window every night.  It reminds me that your spirit continues to shine brightly. And despite the darkness of night, joy will come in the morning.  I can ask for nothing more in my life than to have been truly and unconditionally loved.

I miss you more than words can say.  But now I know…real love stories have no ending.   

Merry Christmas darling.

                                                            All my love,

                                                            Karen