Nine Months Later

The actual day to remember is a little fuzzy for me. As Facebook would say, "It's complicated."

It is most likely that Michael died on Sunday morning, probably between 10:30 and 11. Nobody knew until the next evening, when his friend and co-worker went by his apartment to see why he hadn't shown up for work that day. We got the news soon after, I think at around 6:30 pm, when a local police officer knocked on our door.

So...which day do we mark? The 24th, when he died, or the 25th, when the terrible news hit us?

I kind of do both. Because they both matter.

When the 24th falls on a Sunday, it's harder than usual because I am doing the same things I was doing that day back in June- getting dressed up, going to church, sitting in the sanctuary, standing to sing... never knowing that a few hundred miles away, our sons life was ending.

The battles of the mind that I fight are different on the 24th than they are on the 25th.

On the one, my mind tries to tell me things about what was happening at that moment in time; ugly, hurtful things; pictures of the moment he died. There are toxic little guilt trips about how I was going blithely along in my day, oblivious to what was happening to my son. For example- did he cross my mind that morning? Did I think of calling him, only to brush it aside with- I'll do that later. I fight that with the only weapon there is, fixing my thoughts on Jesus and His great love for me. Focusing on Him is the only thing that fills my mind full enough to drive out those images and words.

On the day we got the news, the battle is different. It's more of my mind piping up throughout the day with, "This time nine months ago, you were still happy." That's not so bad. When it goes to, "This time, nine months ago, Michael lay dead in his apartment, and nobody knew," that's much harder. There is less of the guilt-trip aspect and more of the pure tragedy of it. Again, the only remedy that truly helps is firmly turning my thoughts to Jesus; to the goodness and love of God. Just "not thinking about it" is not enough. I have to forcibly fill my mind with the only thing big enough to fight the darkness.

So, how has it gone this time around, as we hit the nine month mark?

Yesterday, I debated whether to go to church. Would I have a big emotional breakdown in church, surrounded by virtual strangers? I prayed about it, and felt that it was right for me to go. I am so glad that I did. We were singing songs of worship when the fateful time rolled past, things like "Your grace is enough for me," and "Your mercy is all I need." Yes, I had tears during the singing, but it was not the full-blown meltdown it might have been. I felt cherished, held close to the heart of Jesus, and cradled in His love. That helped the whole day to be just...a day, and not a tragic, somber slog of sadness. It was actually a good day. I thought of Michael pretty much constantly, but it did not rip my heart to shreds.

Today has been....normal. Normal use to sound boring. Now, it is a surprising gift. I have thought of our boy many times today, but those heavy, torturous thoughts have not attacked me today. I am so thankful. I've rested, and gotten things accomplished- just housekeeping kinds of things.

A part of my mind is watching the clock, very aware that the hour when we got the worst news is about to roll around again...but that is not tearing at me. It's not making it hard to breathe.

This makes me think that people much be praying for me today. I know that there are specific people in my life who are very mindful of when these days roll around every month. I am so grateful for that. If you are someone who was praying for me yesterday and/or today- thank you so much. It is such a gift to have one of these "monthiversaries" roll by without being tortured.

I'm really....okay. Which is really lovely.

I am wearing one of Michael's flannel shirts- keeping him close. As soon as I finish typing this, we will take the dogs for their evening stroll, and then Lee will go to bed.

It all feels peaceful, which is a very precious gift.