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.
Our family of three recently had the opportunity to see the musical Dear Evan Hansen. As we watched the story unfold, I found myself connecting with the family in the musical whose son and brother had just died from suicide. As I watched them trying to figure out how to deal with his death and how to handle their emotions, I felt like that could have been our family up on the stage. Although the circumstances of Micah’s death were different than the character in the musical, I found myself drawing a parallel to this family of father, mother, and daughter.
Everyone seems to deal with loss in their own way but one common thread that I observed in the musical was the need for connection. The mother was soaking up the memories told through Evan Hansen’s stories and emails of his alleged friendship with her son, Connor. Even though they were all lies, and the other family members initially questioned them, she needed to believe that they were real. Her belief that her troubled son had made connections and experienced a true friendship was what she needed to help her through her immediate grief. Those stories and emails appeared to bring her some comfort along with new “memories” of her son.
After Micah died, I worried that I would start to forget little things about him as life went on without him. Would I remember the sound of his voice, his mannerisims, the little things he would say or do that would make me smile? Would my memories of him fade away? Would other people start to forget about him? As I listened to the words of the song “Disappear” from Dear Evan Hansen, I had a difficult time trying to control the tears that were streaming down my face. The words that hit me are still running through my head:
No one deserves to be forgotten No one deserves to fade away No one should come and go And have no one know he was ever even here No one deserves to disappear To disappear Disappear
We have some pictures and videos of Micah from the 15 years of his life that help to keep his memory alive but I have also realized that there are so many reminders of him all around me. Those memories are not only triggered by photos, but also specific dates, places, and tangible items. Every time I eat watermelon or blueberries or see someone drinking Mt. Dew, I think of Micah as he loved all of those things. As I think back to Father’s Day weekend last year, I’m reminded of my last canoe ride with him on Sugar Lake. We went to the area where the stream enters the lake and got out to explore a little, one of his favorite destinations on the lake. At that time, we thought he was doing well so I never would have guessed that would be our last canoe ride together. Everywhere I go, I see things that bring back specific memories of him and the things he did.
In spite of the many memories of Micah that I have, I am also painfully aware that there will never be an opportunity for me to create new memories with him. I find myself thinking of Connor’s mother from the musical and how she needed to hear the stories that Evan told her about her son. I realize that, like her, I also want to hear other people’s stories and memories of Micah as that is the only way I will be able to have “new” memories of him. I know that many people are unsure of whether or not they should talk to grieving people about their loved ones who have died. Do you risk sharing a memory that will likely bring tears or do you just keep things to yourself to avoid an uncomfortable situation? I can’t speak for everyone, but I know that I would much rather have people share stories of Micah, even if hearing them makes me cry, as opposed to missing out on learning something new about him that I otherwise would never have known. When other people share memories of Micah, it gives me comfort and gives me a little insite into who he was with other people.
Since Micah’s death, I have wanted to do something in his honor that will keep his memory alive for others. Something that will benefit other people in one way or another. In Dear Evan Hansen, students from his school started what became know as the “Connor Project” as a way to honor his memory and work to prevent others from feeling like they were alone and without hope. Although I don’t have a specific plan yet, I would love to find a way to create something good from our loss. Some way to keep him from being forgotten, to keep his memory from fading away, to prevent him from disappearing.
** If any of you who are reading this blog post have any memories, stories, or pictures of Micah, I would love to hear or see them. Also, if you have ideas of things that could be done in his memory to benefit others, I would love to hear those ideas, too.
Grieving Mama 