loss – Grieving Mama

“Don’t You (Forget About Me)”

Every once in a while as I’m listening to music, one of the songs from Micah’s playlist will come on, bringing back memories of him. Recently, the song “Don’t You (Forget About Me)” from the movie The Breakfast Club began to play. I can’t remember if Micah actually saw that movie before he died or if he knew the song from when it was referenced in the movie Pitch Perfect. Either way, it made me think about the little ways that some of Micah’s friends and family have shown that they have not forgotten about him. When people share these things with me, it makes me feel so good to know that even though he hasn’t been here physically for over two and a half years, he continues to hold a place in people’s thoughts and hearts.

One of Micah’s friends left a painted rock at the cemetery by his gravestone when he stopped by to visit his grave. Another remembered him by wearing his #Team Micah – Fishing for a Cure wristband for his senior pictures as a way to include him. A couple of others wore their wristbands to prom; taking Micah with them since he didn’t have the opportunity to attend prom in his lifetime. His cousin made a point of including a picture of Micah in his photo display at his graduation party so Micah could be there too, like he would have been if he was still here. One of his aunts sends us a picture via text on the 3rd of every month, remembering the anniversary of the date he died. It’s often a picture of his name spelled out in something she has created somewhere in nature or with one of his favorite foods. Every once in a while, I catch a glimpse of a Team Micah t-shirt or hear from parents of Micah’s friends, sharing a conversation, story or memory of Micah that their son or daughter has shared with them. We also recently learned that there will be a memorial page for Micah in the yearbook this year as this would have been his senior year. These are just a few of the things that people have done that remind us that Micah has not been forgotten.

Before I found myself in the role of bereaved parent, I didn’t know how much it meant for people to share memories and photos of someone who had passed away; to be able to talk about them freely without worrying about making the other person uncomfortable. When someone new in our lives learns of our loss, there is frequently that moment when they don’t quite know what to say. Often, there’s the initial “I’m so sorry” which is followed by an awkward silence before one of us can change the topic to something less uncomfortable than death. As much as I like to talk about Micah and share memories of him, I know that it can sometimes be hard for others to know how to respond.

One of the most memorable interactions I had was with someone who I hadn’t seen since I was pregnant with Annika and who didn’t know our story. As we were chatting, she asked what should have been an innocent question, “How old are your children?” It was easy to share about Annika, telling her age and how she was now in college. However, when it came time to tell about Micah, I felt uneasy as I began to share that he had died from cancer at the age of fifteen. Instead of the expected response, however, she asked me to share one of my favorite memories of him. That simple request gave me the freedom to share a fun memory of him, turning what could have been an uncomfortable moment into a time of sharing and reminiscing. I was so grateful for that opportunity and made a mental note to try to remember that for times when I’m in a similar situation with others.

When it comes to being able to talk about Micah and share stories of him, I imagine how difficult this has been for Annika as she transitioned from being home with all of her friends who had been with her through Micah’s illness and death, to starting a new life at college. She has made some great friends at Wartburg but none of them knew Micah and initially, only her roommate knew that she had lost her brother. After all, how do you even start that conversation with someone new, “Oh, by the way, did I tell you my brother died?” By now, most of her college friends now know about Micah’s death and she is able to talk to them about it, but they don’t have memories of him like her high school friends do. Although they never met Micah, they are getting to know what he was like as Annika shares stories about him. One of her friends in particular has become very invested in Micah’s story and wants to know more. She’s always extremely happy when Annika shares memories of Micah and it’s been good for Annika to be able to have someone close to her that she can talk to about him.

Through the loss of Micah, I have learned how important it is to be able to talk about the people in our lives that we have lost along the way. Telling stories of Micah has not only been healing for us but also gives those who have never met him a little glimpse of who he was. I hope that someday we’ll all be able to talk freely about those we have lost; sharing stories of them with others so that they can continue to live on through our memories; so they can be remembered and never forgotten.

One Year

It’s hard to believe that it has been a whole year since Micah was here with us. We survived all of the “firsts” without him but not without a lot of tears and heartache. The past few weeks have been filled with so many reminders of his final weeks and days. I found myself going back and reading the Caring Bridge entries and scrolling through the photos from the last few weeks of his life, reliving his final days.

I think back to the days when my kids were younger, when my worries and fears would take over and I would imagine how I would ever survive if something were to happen to either of them. As a parent, that was always one of my biggest fears. At those times, I imagined that I would never be able to endure something like that, that I wouldn’t be able to function and would lose my will to go on. Of course, I also believed that it would never happen to my family. Those were the things that happened to other people. At least that’s what I thought until it became our reality.

Unlike my fears from the past, I’ve realized that life does go on and we are able to continue to live life after loss. I believe that my grief will always be a part of me but that I will be able to continue to build my life around it. Although Micah is not physically with us, I still feel like he is near at times. He’s with me in my thoughts, my memories and in my dreams, which is probably why I frequently bring him up in conversations. Although I’m sure this might make some people uncomfortable, I can’t stop myself from talking about him. Even though Micah died, that doesn’t take away the fact that he also lived. I have 15 years of memories of him that will always be a part of me and will keep him present in my life.

The Last Time

I woke up this morning with a bittersweet reminder from Facebook of our last outing as a family of four, one year ago today. Not only was this our last family event that we attended together, it was also Micah’s last day out in the world. Just hours after leaving the show, we took him to the Emergency Department at Children’s Hospital in Minneapolis for the last time. Besides leaving the hospital the next day to be transferred to Mayo Clinic & Hospitals in Rochester, he would never again leave the hospital before he passed away just a few short weeks later.

This was supposed to have been the beginning of a week long family vacation at the cabin where we would spend time together before Micah’s big surgery that was his last hope for a possible cure. We had our bags packed and were ready to head to the Cities for a day with family, a trip to the Guthrie Theater for West Side Story and then off to the cabin the next day after spending the night with family in town.

When I went to wake Micah that morning, I could tell that he wasn’t feeling well. After going into his room a couple of times to encourage him to get out of bed, he asked me if I could snuggle with him for a little bit before he got up. Even though we were already running behind schedule, I couldn’t say no to his request. As the mother of a 15 year old boy, I knew that this was a rare occurrence and I’m so glad I took that opportunity. If you had told me then that I would never again snuggle with my son in our home or that this would be the last time he would sleep in his own bed, I wouldn’t have believed it. I didn’t know then how drastically our lives were going to be changing in such a short amount of time. I never would have believed that cancer would destroy his body so quickly along with his chance of returning home for even one last day.

The crazy thing about “lasts” is that you rarely know that it will be your “last time” until it’s over, until the next time never comes. As I look back to that last “good day” that Micah had, I’m so grateful that I took the time to snuggle with him. I can’t tell you how many times I have looked back at that day and wondered how much regret I would have felt if I had missed that opportunity; if I had let our schedule, rather than my heart, dictate my decision that morning.

I sometimes wonder if I would have done things differently if I’d known that Micah’s life would be cut so short. Would I have tried to make each moment a little more special? Would I have snuggled a little longer, taken more videos and pictures, or spent my time differently had I known that he would be cheated out of so much of his life? I have feelings of regret when I think back to time that feels like it was wasted but I am also so grateful for those moments that I treasure; when we took the extra time and effort to make memories and saying “yes” to the little things to which I could have so easily said, “Not now, maybe later.”

Losing Micah has opened my eyes to the need to live life to the fullest, to take time to spend with those we love and to prioritize people over things because, unfortunately, we rarely know when it will be our last chance to give our loved ones a hug or kiss, say our last “I love you” or say our final “goodbye” until it’s too late.

The Power of Love

“If love could have saved you, you would have lived forever.”

Love is a powerful thing. It makes you want to do everything in your power to protect your loved ones from harm. It gives you the endurance to stay up all night with a sick child. It gives you patience and strength to meet the needs of those you love when they are sick or in pain. It gives you hope to keep on fighting even when things look bleak.

Unfortunately, love cannot heal all wounds. It cannot cure cancer. It cannot stop death. But death also cannot stop love, for love perseveres. Even when someone you love is being destroyed from the inside out, love endures. Love can live on in your heart even when the one you love is no longer here because love has the power to last forever.

“Grief is love with no place to go.”