4 years.

It's just not possible. Michael has been gone 4 years today and some days it feels like it was just yesterday when he was here. I realized in disbelief this week that it has been 10 years since we started this journey and Michael woke up with the worst headache of his life. We had no idea just how much our lives were going to change.

There is not a day that goes by where I don't think about him, and yet the raw ache of grief still tends to come in waves and hit me unexpectedly. I don't remember much about the first year after Michael died. I know that we were surrounded by love and that there was a steady stream of people who managed to keep us all going. The second year of grief allowed the numbness to recede and allow for some light to shine in as we began to adjust to Michael's absence. Throw a house remodel and a pandemic in and that's how we've managed the last two years.

We are settled in our house and are enjoying making new memories. We continue to be amazed by the strength and love of our village and know how very lucky we are to be cared for by so many friends. The girls are growing up into amazing tweens and definitely giving me a new appreciation of how challenging it can be to be an only parent. I miss Michael and sharing all of the stories about the girls' lives with him.

Shayna transferred to TVT this year after an incredibly challenging and difficult year and Ariella started Middle School at TVT and is excited to be back in the classroom. They have each found a good group of friends at TVT and continue to be surrounded with love from their Bonita friends and their friends from our synagogue.

Grief. Sometimes it sneaks up on you and other times, you just know that it is going to be there. Today is a perfect example of that. The last 10 days of Michael's life were the worst 10 days of my life and they tend to play on a movie reel that doesn't want to stop playing. It could be so easy for me to get sucked back down into the deepest parts of my grief when I replay those 10 days in my head. And yet, this year, it has felt more like the dark cloud that follows Eeyore around in the Winnie the Pooh stories.

The grief is always there but over the past 4 years I've been able to compartmentalize it so that it is manageable. Except on days like today. I can't stop playing back the last days of Michael's life and my heart aches remembering how it was telling the girls that Michael was gone. Sigh. Some memories never fade or feel less raw.

We have each found ways to cope with our grief and integrate Michael's memory into our lives. We still talk about him and laugh at silly things he did. We (I) get angry when I can't find something or don't remember how to program the TV and I know that he would have known exactly where something was or which button to push on the remote. I've been clearing out the house and going through numerous boxes of papers that Michael had from over the years and it always makes my heart catch when I see his writing.

We are okay. We are more than okay. We still get sad and we miss Michael more than words can ever express, but we are okay. We continue to put one foot in front of the other and acknowledge when we need to talk or take a break. I am so proud to be raising two amazing, kind and compassionate girls who want to make this world a better place. They are strong and fierce and empathetic and still hysterically funny. They haven't forgotten how to laugh. They are my greatest pride and joy and I wish with all my heart that Michael was here to see them grow. I know that he continues to watch over us, especially when that pesky fly showed up again this past week. I know how loved we were and that brings me immeasurable comfort. Michael loved us every day of his life and we loved him every day of his.

We continue to live by our Glass Half Full motto and are focusing on refilling our glass with hope and resilience.

Thank you, as always, for being there for our family and walking with us on our most difficult days  and celebrating our joys with us. We wouldn't have made it this far without the love of our village and our family.

If you have any memories of Michael that you want to share, please don't hesitate to reach out to me. Saying his name or sharing a memory doesn't make me sad. It makes me smile that you remembered him and shared it with me.

xoxo