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Daniel, Laura, and Maelee at Michael's birthday celebration.  January 9, 2012.

Andi loving her baby cousin Gigi.  Bethany was very patient with Andi's eagerness to be with her. :)

Such a good picture.  Always a little hard to see so clearly the missing piece.

The cake.  I think you would have like this one, Michael.

Grandma Joann and Andi takin' a walk. 

To my Michael:
Yesterday was the first day of Spring, and it occurred to me that this will be my second spring without you.  I cannot believe the constant ways in which my soul has been challenged, stretched, shaken, and densified since then.
I am so so grateful for my new life--For the wonderful new people I have in my life to love and take care of.  Thank you for any support you've given towards this new journey in my life.  I'm finding myself putting in much heart and soul into this new life, because I know that's what I should do and I know it's what it takes.  I'm glad to do it.  Happy to do it.
But every once in a while I'll have a quiet moment...Like, sometimes after I put the girls down for a nap and I sit in my office for a while (...at your old desk that I love so much.)  Or, oftentimes as I sit up late at night when everyone else is sleeping, and I see the stars and hear the night air travel through my window, I feel my old friend Grief settle back in to each crevice of my soul.  It's that same old tinge of deep, soul-wrenching sadness that makes me feel so incredibly helpless in its presence. 
It's such a good thing that I don't have as many daily opportunities to dwell on this terrible heartache.  It's so great to be able to give this grief "the finger" as I keep busy with these new tasks and people in my life.  But at the same time, I'm realizing that my grief really has become a friend...That perhaps it isn't something to run completely away from.  Maybe my "old friend Grief" needs a greater welcome from me, because as I once predicted, it's never going away.  And maybe, just maybe that horrifying feeling of helplessness that it brings is a good reminder of the fragility of life and the importance of our eternal bonds.  I need to feel of those eternal bonds, for I miss you.
Maybe that's why I've been so bent on keeping up with this blog and with writing these letters to you.  This grief monster that keeps finding ways to burn out my insides needs a place to express itself.  I can run and work out all I want, and while that helps, I gotta' give all these feelings a voice.
I also just long to keep you alive.  You might be gone physically, but not otherwise.  You're always alive in me!  Yes, cheesy, I know, but true.  Here are some memories I've thought of as of late:
--I remembered the April Fool's Day when you put the elastic on the kitchen sprayer and I ended up getting water all over the entire kitchen.  You laughed so freaking hard.  Some of the papers that were hung up on the fridge that day I still have hung up on my fridge now.  And they're still crinkled from that wet mess.  :)
--I remembered how my mom always forwarded you her dumb emails she got when she was working and how you read every single one (even though I'm pretty sure she sent like five a day.)  Whenever you'd catch up on your email, you'd spend at least an hour reading those stupid things and you'd always make me come in to read them.  I can hear your voice saying, "Babe, you gotta' come read this..."  Then you'd laugh about them with Mom at Sunday dinner, and I think she got a kick of the interest you took in them.  Love you for that. 
--Do you remember the suit fiasco the night before Andi's blessing?  You (or, was it me?) forgot to pick up your suit from the dry cleaners.  Now the dry cleaners was closed and you had no decent suit to wear the next day.  You seriously called the owner of the dry cleaners.  Seriously.  That's my Michael.
--I'll never forget the day you gave Aunt Jeanne the heimlich remover.  When she started choking I literally started yelling at you to "get over here!"  I knew you were the best man for the job even though the entire room was full of people.  And you did it!  You nearly broke a rib in the process (I actually think you did), and you felt really bad about it, but we were all so proud of you.  My family often joked about it around you with nervous and grateful laughter.
--This isn't really a memory, but a while ago I was driving in the neighborhood of our Kaysville house that we had bought and were waiting to fix up and live in.  Man, it just stings the soul to drive through there and feel the reality of our unfulfilled dreams.  I loved the dreams we had and shared together.  We had big plans for that house and it woulda' been awesome.  (If we didn't kill each other first while we were in the process of getting there and even living there...)
--Do you remember going to family and friend get-togethers that first year of Andi's life?...Anytime we were the first to leave you'd explain that we had to because Andi was a "ticking time bomb."  ha
--I have this sweet memory of when I was dating you:  I came to your Ogden house one evening and I walked in on you as you were giving Jeremy's dog a bath.  I guess Erin and Jeremy had asked you to watch him for a few days.  You were in your bathroom scrubbing away at him while singing in this darling voice, "Fresh and clean....fresh and clean...Zeus is gonna' be so fresh and clean."  It melted me.  Yeah, I know...Doesn't take much.:)
--Also when we were dating, I remember when you brought me to the hospital with you to see Erin and Jeremy's newly arrived, first baby boy, Tagg.  I kept saying, "Are you sure Erin would want me here?"  And all you kept saying to me was that they were like family--That they felt the same and that I might as well understand that now.  :)  It was neat seeing yet another display of your loyalty and love towards your best friends and their families.  Along the same lines, it's also been neat to see how loyal these friends have been to you since you died.  They have kept such a good eye on me.  They helped me move, they threw me a "shower" before I married Eric, they continually invite me to blessings and sealings and whatnot.  They are wonderful and come to find out, they really are family.
--I remember one summer night before Andi was born, you were working on putting in a new a/c at a beautiful new house in Alpine.  I was already in Salt Lake, and pining to see you at least ONCE that busy summer week, so you told me to meet you there.  (I often remember trying to track down the sight of your van in efforts to meet you somewhere so we could see each other during those busy summers.)  That night I "helped" you install the unit and you showed me around the pretty house.  It was a fun memory. 
--The other day Andi was watching "Monsters Inc."  She loves that show and you were the one that bought it for her.  I remember you used to quote "Mike" on it a lot.  Remembering your funny voices makes me laugh.  You quoted movies so well.  You also had a great impersonation of Ricky Ricardo when you would talk to Marion's dog, Lucy.  :)

So there are some more memories to reminisce about for now.

I know I mentioned this in my other blog, but Andi's been talking about you so much lately.  I to keep you and Sheri as topics for any open discussions in our family...I want them to understand our circumstances, and feel comfortable sharing feelings.  (Hopefully without overdoing it.)  And Andi seems to want to do that.  She often makes cards for you.  Last night she drew on a rock for you and said that she was going to "keep it until I get to heaven so I can give it to Daddy Michael."  When we drove by the temple last week she cried that she couldn't go in it because she said she wanted to go see "Daddy Michael." 
Oh....Michael...Sometimes it takes all I have to not just cry out in pain when I hear these things.
I freaking hate it so badly.  There's just no other way to put it. 
How grateful I am that the Kleins are here to be with us in those times.

My dearest Marion died this last January.  Her death seemed to have come and gone so quickly.  She has been such a huge part of my life.  She has certainly been a huge part of my life these last two years.  I want to write more about her.  I want to remember her.  In the meantime, I'm glad to know you're with her.  She comforted many of my tears since your passing.  How grateful I am for her.  Take care of her for me...She's my other grandma and I love her so.

Another Valentine's Day passed without you.  I'll never forget last year when your sweet sister Bethany sent me the most beautiful roses, accompanied with such a powerful note that reminded me so much of the love we share.  How grateful I am for her.  And how grateful I am for how well you taught me to celebrate each holiday to its fullest.  Andi made a Valentine's Day card and we put it on your grave.  You are our forever Valentine.

It was pretty crazy when my 30th birthday came and went without your crazy antics to embarrass me with.  I'll never forget my 25th when you decorated my classroom.  Actually, decorate isn't really the right word....More like massacred.
Do you remember your 30th birthday?  We had that big party at our house and I made that fun "Wanted" invitation with your driver's license picture on the front.  So fun.

What would be your 34th birthday came on January 9th.  Your family, Andi, and I met at your favorite restaurant--Chile's--and it was a really sweet gathering.  Ron and Joann had gathered many pictures of you, me, and our little family and they displayed them all over our area in the restaurant.  They blew up our family picture and had it standing on an easel.  Made me cry.  That was just a few days before I took the plunge and married Eric.  It couldn't have been sweeter.  So good to be reminded of "us" and that we do in fact live on as a family...somehow. 
Andi loves your family and is adoring Bethany's little Gigi.  She went on a "walk" with Joann and she stayed close to me the rest of the time, of course. 
I went to Dick's and got your favorite chocolate and custard cream cake, decorated on top with nothing less than Superman himself. 
Daniel and his family dressed as clowns, which I thought was a good way to celebrate your day.  Perfect reminder of your fun and craziness.
Thank you to the Allens for your support that day.  Love you.

A few weeks ago my dad brought me the book, The Uses of Adversity" by Carlfred Broderick.  It's a quick read and really captures the pain of adversity quite well.  I obviously thought about you the whole time in reading it.  And I think you would have taken his same approach:  That pain is torturous, herendous, and soul-wrenching stuff that can wreck you up entirely.  But it's what we signed up for, and there's no way around that fact.  There's purpose in it, even though we don't need to be told that in our darkest moments.  The author was very sensitive of how completely terrible life's pains can be, while also being able to illustrate that it's our choice in how to deal.  I have to remember that when that Grief Monster comes again to wreck havoc on my insides.
And there is no question that it still comes.  But now it comes in the midst of all these new adventures I've taken on of being a new wife and stepmother.  I find myself at times feeling deeply challenged in trying to bridge the gap of the past and the present.  I so badly want to do so.  A quote I found comforts those emotions well when it says, "There is no permanent winning or losing when things move, as they should, in a circle.  For is not life continuous?  And though I shall die, shall I not also continue to live in everything that is?  The buffalo that eats grass, I eat him, and when I die, the earth eats me and sprouts more grass.  Therefore nothing is ever lost, and each thing is everything forever, though all things move."

In these new adventures, Michael, I am once again finding myself realizing of my need to learn.  My grief book says, "During these experiences we have little choice but to be humble, because we are finidng out, often painfully, that although the past pulls powerfully, everything about how to create a new life for ourselves is yet to be learned.  This requires us to examine our ways of thinking and behaving in order to determine what can be useful and what will be destructive and detrimental." 
That very much sums up my days lately.

Eric and I have been trying to read some more stuff about the Spirit world and what it is you guys could possibly be doing there.  It's all interesting and it's intriguing to imagine what you're up to.  I do know that you're around, though, and I am so grateful for that.  Don't leave.  We need you.  Our family is a team. 

Love you forever~
_______________________________________________________________________________
Some quotes and poems of meaning to me lately:

"We must be willing to let go of the life we have planned so as to have the life that is waiting for us." Joseph Campbell

"If any of us are imperfect, it is our duty to pray for the gift that will make us perfect....No man ought to say, 'Oh, I cannot help this; it is my nature.' He is not justified in it, for the reason that God has promised to give strength to correct these things, and to give gifts that will eradicate them. If a man lack wisdom, it is his duty to ask God for wisdom. --George Q. Cannon

And an email I want to remember:

Dear Lis,

Been thinking and thought this might serve as you begin to recieve 'days of plenty' as you 'carry on' with your life:

 Days of Plenty

"I never dreamed of this sorrow
I never thought I'd have reason to lament
I hoped I'd never know heartbreak
How I wish I could change the way things went!
I wanted nothing but goodness
I wanted reason to prevail
Not this bare emptiness
I wanted Days of Plenty.

But I refuse to feel tragic,
I am aching for more than pain and grief.
There has got to be meaning,
Most of all when a life has been so brief.
I have got to learn something,
How can I give him any less?
I want life to go on
I want Days of Plenty

You have to Believe,
There is reason for Hope
You have to Believe
That the answers will come
You can't let this defeat you
I won't less this defeat you
You must fight to keep him there
Within you

So Believe that he matters
And Believe that he always will
He will always be with you
He'll be part of the days you've yet to fill
He will live in your bounty
He will live as you carry on your life

So carry on,
Full of Hope,
He'll be there."

For all your Days of Plenty
I love you so,
Dad Allen.

Lyrics to "How Could I Know":

"How could I know I would have to leave you?
How could I know I would hurt you so?
You were the one I was born
To love
Oh, how could I ever know?
How could I ever know?

How can I say to go on without me?
How, when I know you still need me so?
How can I say not to dream about me?
How could I ever know?
How could I ever know?

Forgive me, can you forgive me?
And hold me in your heart?
And find some new way to love me
Now that we're apart?

How could I know I would never hold you? Never again in this world?
But, oh
Sure as you breathe
I am there inside you
How
Could I ever know?
How could I ever know?"
Lyrics www.allthelyrics.com/lyrics/the_secret_garden_soundtrackIn one of my grieving books, it quotes a lady that says,"When we find moments of release from the suffocating weight of our own grieving, the love and companionship we have with our friends and family continue, of course, to be important.  It will be important not only for those times in the future when we experience a recurrence of our sadness and grief or suffer a new loss, and for the times when our family and friends will, in turn, need our support in a loss, but also for the times of quiet togetherness, of joy, of celebration and play.  For we recognize now, probably to a much greater degree than we did in teh past, how integral friends and family are to our well-being and how nurturing are the bonds of love in our life." 
That same book also says, "I'm convinced the reason we are here is to remember, if we understand memory to be that unique human ability to create from the past a sense of meaning in the present and a trembling anicipation of possibility in the future."