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flm monday

Dear you.

I have been missing you tremendously yet again.

New school years are hard.

The same things trip us up.

Not our new Nike’s and Hey Dude’s) ,

(because you know they talked everyone that loves them into buying them a new pair. Ha)

But it’s the miles, the memories, we have walked in our old worn out shoes.

The blisters of memories, that are rubbed, as we relive them over and over.

We want to retire those shoes.

Throw them out.

Or mostly we want to tie them up in a pretty bow.

And allow them to be a gift that brings joy.

The happy memories with you.

But sometimes….

Missing you , hurts like a blister.

When the kids go back to school,

And I wish my task today was picking up your dry cleaning.

And yes I did once (or twice)

tell you that was a pain in my ass.

A writer and BMT survivor I admire ,Suleika Jaouad,

describes grief and loss as

scar tissue.

It is always just below the surface.

Always there.

Even when we think

our scars on the outside have healed.

That our new shiny shoes

will carry us through,

this next chapter.

With less heartache.

Less tears.

We still trip.

When we put family pictures

in All about me bags.

Because you are there


Below the surface,

For us.

And physically,

For 7 year olds that is hard to explain to his class.

So its easier , to show the picture

Of all five of us.

He says, If I have to see he died,

It makes me too sad.

Me too.

He is brave , like you.

He cries and then tells them about you.

It is hard when our outside world does not match ,

what our heart knows.

And yet,

I am thankful for being tripped.

You are below the surface.

You live in each of us.

And even though the pain surfaces,

when life trips us,

I am grateful.

Because I know we will never lose you.

I made a friend last year at Emory.

22 years young.

An incredible soccer player from Barbados.

And alone.

Alone with no family in another country,

Fighting an aggressive cancer.

He came to play soccer.

And ended up in a fight for his life instead.

I found out from his mom today that ,

He lost his battle last night

Because of the friends , family, and strangers,

Who have supported Share Love , Thats’s all.

We gave him a new iPad and yet,

Non hospital food was his favorite thing.

Pizzza hut wings and pineapple and ham pizza.

The simple things

I am sad.

We could not save him .

Modern medicine could not save him.

But as I thought about it, getting discouraged,

I remembered that medicine didn’t save you either.

Ha, that sounded kinda harsh no offense , Snookie.

I thought about what the foundation was build upon.

Just Sharing love with one person.

One person at a time.

Just making one moment in their day better.

Because that is what

Our Fight Like Mike army…

did ( and does) for you, me , J, C, and G.

They gave us hope for just the next breath.

They loved us in the dark.

And showed us the light.

The hope that was waiting outside our hospital room.

Dishon sent me this picture on the first day he got to leave the hospital room

After laying flat inside, those 4 walls for 5 months.


Light .

I don’t even have to describe the picture ,

His face says all.

There is light.

Sometimes we need someone to remind us.

I am grateful for the light Dishon showed me,

Without ever knowing or trying.

But just by being.

Today I am reminded of the hard truth

We are not in control .

We don't get to write our ending.

We can only love each other through the hard.

We miss you , Mike.

Always and Always.


P.S . I let them get a bunny. I am still a crazy person. I think I might be falling in love with Mopsy.

But you would especially love the cage of pee and poop in our kitchen. Lovely



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