It seems surreal that it has now been a year or a little over since I last looked into your beautiful brown eyes, heard your voice and felt your hands gripping mine.  In a sense it seems so long ago and yet it doesn’t.  The last fews days I have replayed your final days in my mind, would things have been different had I known?  This past year I have been in a bit of a fog, tucking my sorrow and missing of you away for another time, just trying to keep the boat afloat.  The demands of helping our children navigate this hard year has kept my mind and body busy.  Trying to recover mentally and physically from the battle we fought with Glioblastoma for over three years, attempting for some normalcy and carving some happy experiences and memories to take us into the future. 

Covid 19 and the isolation and disruption to our lives certainly has kept us distracted and brought challenges of fighting depression, over dependance on electronics for entertainment and escape, and loss of community.  And yet here we are 12 months later.  I hope you would be proud of us that though battered, scarred and bruised we are here.  I think we are stronger and definitely in a better position to face the future than we were.  So much still needed for growth, wisdom, and energy as we march through each day. 

Our house isn’t quite as organized as it was when you were here,  I am glad that you can’t see the garage!  Our quicken (financial) register isn’t as detailed as you kept it, I have gone mainly electronic with bill pay (parish the thought!) but hopefully you would understand as an only/single parent time is more crunched.  You would be so surprised at how our lives look now, kids doing online school, church meeting outside or not at all in person, marches, protests, riots, masks, face shields and more.  Honestly it has been a pretty grueling time but through it all God’s presence has been evident, the children have good friends, love their youth group and have leaders in their lives who care about them.  We have good friends who stepped in to help from time to time as the need arises and who keep tabs on me.  Work wise this year has been weird from having weeks of no work since my unit was closed due to Covid to actually going back to work in the ICU (after 13 years) to help  with staffing needs.  I think you would have been so proud of me, I know I was!  I am so grateful that you planned so well that we have been able to weather this year as so many others have really struggled with loss of income.  It’s wearing us down at work, especially having to wear so much PPE that we feel almost dehumanized ,which for us nurses, goes against the grain.  Next week another change is coming, after 16 years of working per-diem and making my own schedule I am taking a part-time position.  While I mourn the loss of independence and freedom that working as little or as much as  I want brings, I think the structure of 4 days a week and the financial benefits (employee benefits!) will be a great help.  

Year two certainly will look different and perhaps will be harder in some ways as we really start to settle into our new normal, without you.  In a few days Sophia will be 16, can you believe it!  Remember how we said she couldn’t date until she was 16 well maybe it is time to raise the bar!  She will be driving soon and perhaps you are the lucky one that you get to observe this all from the safety of heaven!   Sawyer will be 14 next month and along with his deep voice he is as tall as me now!  All legs and arms.  Not a day goes by that I don’t think of you in one form or another, I guess after knowing someone for almost 25 years that is natural.  My memories are sweet and comforting, learning to be one when there was two is certainly tricky and as the holidays approach it seems more acute.  But as I am reminded so often in many ways God is near, he is close to the brokenhearted, he hasn’t forgotten or abandoned us.  As much as I would like to push this grieving aside, “get over it” and just not deal with it I know it is a journey that must be taken.  Painstakingly day by day but I take great hope and courage in knowing that God does bring beauty from the ashes in our lives and he pours oil of joy to cover our mourning, clothes us with praise and plants us like strong healthy oaks to display his glory.  The imagery in Isaiah 61:1-4 is beautiful and fills me with hope and a deep joy that this time is for a season and although we will always miss You, Spring is coming! 
With love and longing,

Joye