And so today’s moment of happiness despite the news.
I’ve learned that grief moments come out of nowhere. But so do the Moments I write about here. Could be that most of life, good and bad, is unexpected.
Today is the day after Christmas. It is also the day before what would have been Michael’s 60th birthday. I turned 60 in 2020. Michael, 5 years younger than me, did not.
The five years difference in our ages really didn’t usually bother me. The only times I twitched were when we would realize that the year I started high school, he was only in the fifth grade. Or the year I started college, he was starting high school. Or the year he started college, I’d graduated, and I was married and expecting a baby.
But the year I turned 60, it bothered me. With each of Michael’s birthdays since then, I’ve complained, “Will you hurry up and get in your sixties? I don’t like that you’re still in your fifties when I’m sixty (61, 62, 63…).”
Well, Michael died shortly after he turned 59. He will never be in his sixties. And at times, I can hear him laughing.
Last year, Michael and I were not together for his birthday. As a combination Christmas and birthday present, I flew him to Omaha, to see his mother and sister and other family members, who he hadn’t seen since before the pandemic. So the last birthday I spent with Michael was in 2022.
So I’m stuck in the mire right now. Christmas, Michael’s birthday, New Year’s, and the anniversary of his accident. Today was a day that pretty much reflected that. We’ve been under a dense fog warning since last night. During the day, it’s been gray and murky. Now that the sun, wherever it was, went down, it’s black with a wash of gray over it. Walking outside, you’re immediately immersed in cold and moist. All day, geese have been flying over, and they are gray shadows. I think they’re lost.
Me too.
Partway through the day, I glanced at the time and realized that Starbucks was going to close in 25 minutes and I hadn’t been there yet. Horrors! So I went out in the murk and drove through the fog to get there.
One of my favorite baristas made my drink. When he leaned out the window to give it to me, he asked if I’d gotten everything I wanted for Christmas.
There was only one thing I wanted for Christmas, and it was impossible. So I just said, “I really didn’t want anything this year.”
This barista was one who knew about Michael, from the accident on. He and another favorite came to the Celebration of Life ceremony. They brought me my drink, which was one of the few things that got me through that day.
“Would you like a gift card from here?” he asked. “My gift to you.”
It may have been murky, but I still lit up.
What I wanted for Christmas, which would have been to rewind this year to January 17th, to call Michael right before he left work, so he’d leave late and enter that crosswalk five minutes later, would have been a miracle. A big one.
But miracles happen in all sizes.
Making me light up in the middle of the murkiest day, in the middle day between two hard days, in the fog of this year…Miracle.
Thank you, Sammy.
And yes, that helps. Despite. Anyway.
