Nine Lives

Perhaps I'm part-cat.
I honestly feel like I've lived about nine lives since you proposed to me nine years ago today.
It's been almost a decade of so many crazy journeys.
It was a funny day, March 17 of 2005.
You were up to your usual goofiness and insisted on being totally over the top for the special occasion.  ("Over the top" is a phrase that well describes you!)  You dressed up as a leprachaun and put a diamond ring in the "pot of gold" at the end of a self-designed crepe-paper rainbow.  I of course said yes and so it began.
We shared a jam-packed, passionate, difficult, and wonderful five years together after that.  We were best friends and always treated each other as such.  We had so many plans for the life ahead of us, and I have no doubt we would have fulfilled those dreams together, no matter how rocky the road would have gotten.
On days like today I am reminded (as if I need to be) that I love you without measure and that I desperately wish we could be living those dreams right now (rocky roads or not.)  While I am happy, taken care of, and in a good place, nothing changes the fact that I miss you and feel so sad you can't be here.

Yesterday and today as I've been processing the above thoughts, knowing that today marked nine years since the beginning, three memories came to mind:
My brother Chris died in 2006.  He died on a Wednesday and that following Sunday (the day after the funeral), we went to church.  I was numb and completely heartsick.  We both spent that Sunday in near silence.  We came home from church and I climbed into bed and just stared at the wall.  You climbed in with me and kept me company in silence.  The only words I can remember saying to you that day was, "Everyone just keeps living life.  How come the world hasn't stopped?  All of this seems so terribly wrong and unjust."  You were by my side and helped me through it.  I was so glad for that.
Fast forward four years.  A month after you died I remember an afternoon at my parents'.  I put Andi down for a nap and I went into the guest room and sat down.  It was continuation of those numbing days, overflowing with heartache.  Once again I found myself in silence thinking, "Everyone just keeps living life.  How come the world hasn't stopped?  All of this seems so terribly wrong and unjust."  I wanted you by my side, just like after Chris died, but you were gone gone gone.
My thoughts continued into my oft-repeated phrase, "How can I do this without you?  How can I do this?  How am I going to not only survive, but thrive?"
I had your scriptures on my lap and the first page I opened up to had a highlighted verse on it that says:  "And Jesus said unto them, I am the ^abread of life: he that cometh to me shall never hunger; and he that believeth on me shall never ^bthirst."  John 6:35
That familiar verse all the sudden had an entirely new meaning.  God and my Savior were my hope.  They offer me what I needed to continue.  I keenly remembered that scripture and I've tried to remember it every step since that day.  It hasn't been easy.  I continue to ache for you, and life's troubles have inevitably continued, so I am continually needing reminders that my Savior is indeed "the bread of life."  I do believe God helps us and gives us what we need to keep waking up and practicing our purposes each day.  He has helped me do so...especially when I can offer this broken heart to him and muster up a willing attitude.
I may not have you like I wish I did, Michael, but I do have so many other things to be grateful for.  My Heavenly Father is one of them.  My wonderful friend and colleague in battle, Eric, is another.  My daughter and step-daughters.  My parents.  My sisters.  My family.  So many things to help me through, and so grateful for all the good these past nine years has brought.

These are pins you had in your keepsakes...a testament of how much you loved St. Patrick's Day.  Andi has these hung up in her room now.  She loves them!

A gift box you gave me when we were dating.  It was actually on our first official date and I believe you put a bunch of chocolates inside them.

Here's the cover of a book you made.  I'll put on more pics later of what's inside.  But this cover is totally you...."Micaman."

I made you this collage of pictures and put it on the back of your clipboard you constantly used at work.  

Nine years ago you finally got the dang degree!  When I think of our lives nine years ago, I think about how excited you were to be done and graduated.  You loved learning and going to Weber but you also got like all the rest of us at the end of our college runs....sick and tired of it!

If you were here now I'm quite sure you would have worn this on St. Patrick's day again.  One of your favorite shirts I had to keep.

Another possible St. Patrick's Day shirt.  I kept this one because you loved these shirts with the cuffs  on  the sleeves like that.  I remember trrying to sstockk up on a bunch of them  for you.

Chris' funeral.

Just moments after we got engaged.  So cute!

Kissy kissy for our engagement pictures.

Your college graduation 

Sure loved hittin' the slopes with you.

Happy St. Patrick's Day and happy nine years to us, Michael!  

My love to you~