your music. your motion.

my friend curt is a part of a business that just launched this amazing iphone app...cadence

i am super proud of him. mike would have been proud of him.

if you workout, run, play you should check out this iphone app (which also works on the ipod touch and your desktop)

shalom...

simply it means peace. but this hebrew word has more layers...It means nothing missing, nothing broken, wholeness, perfect delight.

it is God's original design. but we know that His beautiful design has been broken, shalom has been severed. we struggle, we hurt, we fail, we ache.

when mike died, my shalom was severed. my sense of wholeness, beauty, hope stripped away. in the midst of my lamenting, i knew God was near, grieving that His design for peace was once again incomplete.

but shalom will only severed for a season. we will know perfect beauty, love, peace again. mike is living in perfect shalom now. how can i not find joy knowing that my love is whole again, no longer feeling pain, no longer struggling with his failures. and i believe i will experience this shalom too...not yet, but someday.

i wanted a tangible reminder of this season. to know that there will be perfect peace, that mike is in the midst of that. but that my shalom has been broken and i can lament, grieve, ache. and that God is with me in it.

so this past saturday, my best friends, kindred spirits, "sisters" kristin and kelly came with me to mark myself. here are some pictures of getting my tattoo of shalom.

before...

i was a little nervous...but aaron at mos eisley's did an amazing job!


after...it actually didn't hurt as much as i anticipated. but as i told someone the pain of getting a tattoo was part of the process.

shadows

Today I really began to feel the shadows creep in, within, over, through, around me.

One year is coming.

One year without Mike's voice, laughter, kisses, hugs, hearing him zipping home on his vespa, watching "The Office" with him, road trips to Traverse City, eating really great food, ending our days together, sharing coffee to start our days.

This is beyond hard...I want to tell God it's too much, make it end. Bring him back to me. Or maybe erase my mind and heart of how real and good it was sharing life with Mike. Cause then maybe it wouldn't hurt as much now.

milk toasts...

i wanted to be able to enter today, mike's birthday, celebrating him like i always loved to do. growing up birthdays were pretty simple in mike's family, but i love to make a big deal of them. so i often had to encourage mike to receive my celebration, that he deserved people making a big-to-do over him.

i wanted today to be a day where my heart was filled with joy in remembrance of mike...but everything in me is hurting. i want him to be here so i can wake him up in the morning with "happy birthday baby", i want to be able to hug and kiss him, i want to take him out for a decadent meal at a favorite restaurant, i want him to receive dozens of notes/cards/phone calls from everyone who loves him.

i wish my heart was ready to just celebrate, but it's just filled with grief, ache, loneliness.

so maybe today you can celebrate him for me. remember him, who he was, a favorite moment. and raise a cold glass of milk (his absolute favorite drink of choice) and toast to our amazing mike...

Torch by Alanis Morrisette

I miss your smell and your style and your pure abiding way.
miss your approach to life and your body in my bed.
miss your take on anything and the music you would play.
miss cracking up and wrestling, our debriefs at end of day.

these are things that i miss.
these are not times for the weak of heart.
these are the days of raw despondence.
i never dreamed i would have to lay down my torch for you like this.

i miss your neck and your gait and your sharing what you write.
miss you walking through the front door documentaries in your hand.
miss traveling our traveling and your fun and charming friends.
miss our big sur getaways.
and to watch you love my dogs.

these are things that i miss.
these are not times for the weak of heart
these are the days of raw despondence.
I never dreamed i would have to lay down my torch for you like this.

One step one prayer
I soldier on, simulating, moving on.

I miss your warmth and the thought of us bringing up our kids.
And the part of you that walks with your stick-tied handkerchief.

these are things that i miss.
these are not times for the weak of heart
these are the days of raw despondence.
I never dreamed i would have to lay down my torch for you like this.

september...

people have been kind in saying what a gift I have with words and how they have been blessed by my writing.

but I sit here in front of my computer, struggling to find the words...

september.

the month of mike's beginning and end.

he should be celebrating 34 years of life on september 12th.

i hate september 27th.