Today I was sitting in my chair, doing not much at all. Simply reminiscing I guess.
I found myself looking at a few pictures that are placed around the room. A picture of my amazing husband and me, another shows my three sons as young men on the day the eldest got married. Each makes me smile and one even makes me laugh… if you could see the expressions on their faces, you would understand and you would most likely have a chuckle too.
All of this is part of my life. As I look at the picture of Mike as a newborn baby and compare it to pictures of him as a young man I can’t help but think about all of the time in between and since.
Mike as a baby, oh my gosh, he was a delight! Okay, he was loud and messy but oh so very happy. We still laugh sometimes when we talk about the fact that we would know Mike was awake because he would be singing to himself in his crib, he was simply a happy guy.
I spend some time remembering Mike and his brothers as little boys. It seems they were forever hungry! Running and playing in the backyard with one another and always, always including the dog. It warms my heart to recall them lined up on the family room floor, each with a pillow and a blanket as they would watch an old movie, chattering and just happy to hang out together.
Yes, they grew up. So different from one another yet with a strong connection at the same time. Each so very independent and quite sure that he knew what was best for his brothers. Yep, very different from one another and yet quite a lot in common.
All of this is part of healthy grieving. Remembering what was, the events, thoughts, feelings, all of that is part of why I miss Mike. Why I grieve his death. At the same time, all of those things are why I will forever love Mike.
It’s been 9 years since Mike died. It’s not unusual in the beginning for our memories to be a bit skewed. We might imagine that the person we are grieving was never angry, or always was reading, any number of things. But as time passes, as we safely and effectively process our grief, our memories once again settle down and become more accurate.
Yes, it’s entirely possible that I remember more or less mud on my floors than was actually there, and that’s okay. What I remember the most, what I felt then and feel now, is the very deep love. And that’s what matters.
Wishing you a day of gentle, heartwarming memories.