Easter Email

Hi Family,

Just wanted to send you all a little email on this Easter weekend to let you know I'm thinking of you all and I hope you have nice and memorable Easter.  

I know I've said it in the past, but Easter is my most favorite holiday and has become much more meaningful through the experience of losing Michael.  While I'm not sure I can say I've made peace with his death, I am entirely grateful for what I have learned through the experience.  Our life together was short, and certainly imperfect, but our bonds were strong and I still feel those bonds and ties today.  He was my best friend and I am happy to say I feel just as strongly about that now as I did seven years ago.  I have had precious experiences in feeling of his continued presence in my life and I know many of you have experienced some of those same things.

Contemplating on the sacrifices, life, and resurrection of the Savior reminds me of the reasons we have to continue to hope and love and stay strong in the Gospel.  I love my brother Jesus and feel overcome by gratitude for the hope He brings us all.

Thank you to my Allen/Schmitz family for remaining as supportive as you have and for your love and help throughout the years.  During this last year, you were especially supportive at Andi's baptism and I can't begin to tell you how much that meant to me.  While my life continues forward, you are always so important to us and will ever remain so, even if we don't see each other often.

Happy Easter to you all!  Love you all dearly and look forward to seeing you in in Park City in June!!!

https://www.lds.org/topics/easter/videos?lang=eng&old=true

Love,

Lis

Twelve Years

This week on St. Patrick's Day will mark 12 years since Michael and I were engaged.  March 17th will always be a special day to me.
As a part of my current church calling, I attended a class last week entitled, "Healing From Trauma." Through the continual process of grieving over Michael's loss, I have certainly developed a few opinions about what person needs to survive and thrive after trauma and so many of those opinions were validated during that class.  So while I have wished our life together would have ended so very differently, I am grateful for all the journey has taught me so far.
On this note, I wrote a poem recently regarding this very topic of overcoming hardship and trying to learn something along the way:

It Is What It Is

“It is what it is,” the broken girl said

As she voiced her reality to us.

We sat in that circle and shared our misfortunes

And I felt a relief in the sadness.

The sound of our bitterness and broken insides

Was so often elsewhere unwelcome.

But together we found love and release--

God’s healing balm of compassion. 

As time carried on, scant patience was found

No mercy in our steeled world is given. 

I longed for that circle to help me feel love

I longed for the balm of compassion.

My pursuit became large as I searched all around

For a moment’s relief from the sadness.

But in it I found a strength from within

A license to support my own essence.

“It is what it is,” I’d say to myself,

Envisioning that broken girl in my mind.

The memory of her eyes looking down

Again helped me grasp more acceptance.

Yes, my heart hurt and the troubles were real

For life had joined burdens with burdens.

But I learned vision and love for myself and my God

Were my new life’s tasks and mission.

Letter from Aunt Bethany

This last year Bethany and Ron and Joann have been writing to Andi as her "pen pal."  It's been such a great way for Andi to stay connected with her Allen family and to learn more about them.  We can't always see each of our families as we would sometimes like, so it's awesome when we find ways like these to keep the connection alive.

Here is a letter that Bethany wrote to Andi on her baptism day and I thought it was very much worth a blog post:

Every once in a while your family will say or do something that reminds me of how grateful I am for their continued efforts and loyalty.  Michael, I know you are so proud of the efforts they make to stay close, honor the connection, and influence Andi for good.  Love them all!

Big Days

Michael,

Andi's baptism was a couple of weeks ago and it was a special day.  All of your family came, and it meant so much to have them all there.  On that day, as shown above, Daniel planted a tree for her (with heart-shaped leaves) in our backyard.  Ron and Joann came down from Montana.

I am finding that you are ever close to my heart on these big days we have in our lives.  It reminds me of a blessing Bishop McFarland (our bishop in Ogden) gave me to me a few months after your death.  He blessed me that you would be with me throughout my life, both in times of joy and times of sorrow.  I have felt that to be very true so far.  It's these experiences that make me want to sit down and write to you.  I love those times of feeling your nearness and being reminded of our connection and memories and love.  

Sweet Hunter Draper showed up at the baptism.  Everyone was asked to write Andi a note to her on her special day.  In the note Hunter wrote Andi, he said loved her dad a lot, that he made a difference in his life, and that he was there when her dad died.  He added at the end that he felt like he should say that when Michael died, Daniel prayed out loud that Lisa and Andi would be okay.  

I never knew that and reading those words brought those days all back to me.  It was so awful, Michael.  I am glad to know that Daniel would care that much.  Desperate times, Baby.

In addition, my dad wrote Andi a note that will forever be etched in my soul:

This not only pays tribute to Andi, but to you, Michael.  If there was anyone by my side during those first few years after your death, it was my dad.  He watched me go through the whole thing.  He got to know you even better after you died.  He got to know you more by listening to me, by attending all my financial meetings with me, by helping me get our house packed and sold, by getting all our financial affairs in order, by getting me established into a new home, etc. etc.  I felt of my dad's love and appreciation for you and I see that once again in this note he wrote to Andi.  He looks for you in Andi...I can still see him do that when he looks at her and talks to her.  He loves her because he loves you.  As do I.  I also love my dear dad, which you know well already.  The kind of person that will always be a giant part of my being and soul.  

The night after the baptism I couldn't sleep.  All the emotions of the day, all the emotions of our family, and all the thoughts and emotions of your loss came crashing down on me.  All I could do was picture our last memories together and hear our last conversation again and again.  I kept seeing you with baby Andi and thinking of those bittersweet memories.  And sometimes in these moments I admittedly feel some anger toward you.  In these hard but profound moments, Michael, I can still feel you near.  I can close my eyes and see your face.  There are just some things that time can't erase.  I am grateful for that.

I was listening to a new Sarah McLachlan song....I know that wouldn't surprise you because you knew how much I love her.  It's a song that speaks so well the feelings of my heart when it comes to you:

Are we just drops of rain
Falling for a little while
Playing hard we lose and gain
Trying to hold on to what matters

Till the end

I keep walking forward
Like I know where I'm heading
How I wish you were here
To see me trying to live up to my name

Till the end

I should be thinking with my head
Not with my broken heart
Look to the future for all it can give
And not to us being apart

We trip and fall and stand again
And go on with our heads held high
We laugh and love as best we can
Trying to hold on to the wonder

How long, how long?

I should be thinking with my head
And not with my broken heart
Look to the future for all it's got
And not to us being apart

Sometimes I feel I can't go on
I let it get me down so hard to heal oh and I fall
Fall to my knees it hurts to survive the love that's gone

But I should be thinking with my head
And not with my broken heart

Look to the future for all it's got
And not to us being apart

I feel so blessed to have all I do in my present life.  I love Eric and love our life together.  I love the family he and I are making.  In addition, I will love you always, Michael.  You are a part of me.

a picture for Andi

When Andi and I were visiting her Grandma Cathi last week, we saw this picture.  It's a picture I want for Andi to have so she can see her grandparents clearly.  Funny enough these pictures are a bit out of focus since I tried to take a picture of a picture. Nevertheless, Andi darling, here are some of your Allen grandparents a "few" years back:

Ron's dad, Ron, baby Michael, and Cathi

Andi my love.  I see you in these faces.  They are your family.

Love them all.

Andi, your Daddy Michael spoke fondly of his Grandpa Allen.  

I hear he wasn't a perfect man--like us all--but Michael had good memories of him and often spoke fondly of him.

A Time of Remembering

Michael,

This Friday will mark our 11th wedding anniversary.
This is always a bittersweet time of year for me.  Between Father's Day, our anniversary on the 24th,  and your death date on the 30th, it is definitely a time of remembering.

Here is a card Andi made you on Father's Day this last Sunday.  I was so impressed that she made it on her own account without me asking.  She gave it to me and asked me to put it on your grave:

It has become more apparent with age that she feels a very real connection to you, and that although she was only about two when you passed, she still has memories of you.  The feelings she felt while with you, the sound of your voice, the way you loved and played with her...they live inside of her.  

Being around your family, some more than others, has a way of bringing these things back to her. That is something I can understand to the core of my soul--Being around your family can make me either want to shout with joy or cry in horror.  Both maybe.  They have your expressions, your exuberance, mannerisms, voice.  How wonderful it is to feel so close to you once again while we're with them!  But it can definitely stir the soul and it takes a while to find ground again.  I hope and pray I am helping Andi through all of these many feelings.  As any parent would, but especially you, I try to focus on the positive with her as we work through this stuff.  I must admit that trying to comfort her during those difficult times of wanting her Daddy Michael can be crushing.  I also know, though, that during so many of these times I have felt so strong--as if someone was literally carrying the sorrow for me so I can be strong for her. 

Yes, these experiences since your loss are teaching me much--and they aren't limited to experiences with Andi and her grief.  Helping Andi's sisters process their grief for their mom is another very real part of our story--but for the purposes of this blog post and for expressing my love and grief for you, I'll limit it to just Andi and me.

Jeremy stopped by last week as he was on his way to his in-laws.  Conversations with your friends are also another bittersweet experience for me.  Just like with your family, I'm so glad to see their faces and reminisce.  I'm glad to be able to share my love for you with them.  And glad to maybe share a little bit of mutual grief to an audience that understands.  It's often awkward trying to expose them to my new life--that I am becoming ever more proud of and grateful for--while also wanting to revisit our memories of you.  Regardless, I love and miss each of them and they make me feel closer to you, even for mere moments, which I again incites much heartfelt gratitude. 

I found a children's book that makes me think of you so much.  The first time I read it, I cried and cried!  I know it sounds ridiculous, but I can honestly hear you saying the words to me and Andi.  I feel I was given this book as a supernal gift.  The words and illustrations are breathtaking to me...Its message captures the feelings I've had since your death and my hopes for you and Andi.  The book is called Wherever You Are My Love Will Find You by Nancy Tillman.

This is what it says:

I wanted you more than you ever will know,

so I sent love to follow wherever you go.

It's as high as you wish it.  It's quick as an elf.

You'll never outgrow it--it stretches itself!

So climb any mountain...

climb up to the sky!

My love will find you.

My love can fly!

Make a big splash!  Go out on a limb!

My love will find you.  My love can swim!

It never gets lost, never fades, never ends...

if you're working...

or playing...

or sitting with friends.

You can dance 'til you're dizzy...

paint 'til you're blue...

There's no place, not one,

that my love can't find you.

And if someday you're lonely,

or someday you're sad,

or you strike out at baseball,

or think you've been bad...

just lift up your face, feel the wind in your hair.

That's me, my sweet baby, my love is right there.

In the green of the grass...

in the smell of the sea...

in the clouds floating by....

at the top of a tree...in the sound

crickets make at the end of the day...

"You are loved.  You are loved.  You are loved," they all say.  

My love is so high, and so wide and so deep,

it's always right there,

even when you're asleep.

So hold your head high and don't be afraid

to march to the front of your own parade.

If you're still my small babe or you're all the way grown,

my promise to you is you're never alone.

You are my angel, my darling,

my star...and my love will find you,

wherever you are.

Even still as I re-read these words over and over again, to myself and to Andi, I feel you beside us, urging its message.

Just a few of the beautiful illustrations:

This book now sits on my "display shelf" in my house, where I like to display some of my most cherished things.  It truly touches my heart so much and I am so grateful to find another source to help me feel of your presence and love once again.

You know, during those short five years of our marriage, I don't remember wanting for much. I'm sure I had expectations (that you could probably say something about), but I can honestly say I didn't dream of big houses and tons of money.  I didn't pine for boats, a lavish wardrobe, or fancy jewelry.  I just wanted a simple, secure life.  Where everything had its place.  

That has not happened.  So far my life has been far beyond that simple vision I once hoped for.  But this lack of simplicity and abundance of tough life lessons (laced with many, many abundant blessings as well) keep reminding me that while my heart will never be the same, I also know that yes, I will never be the same.  I am a better person because of it all.  

Dammit.  

One last thing to share.  I found a notebook at Deseret Book and the cover was so awesome I had to buy it.  It's a sentiment I thought only you had:

Oh, the memories!  Yes, this was you the night before you helped put out flags in our neighborhood.  Every few months you had this task.  And while you complained, were pushed and prodded, you always got 'er done.  And at the end of it all, you were proud of your work.  You took pride in your life's tasks and made the best of each job.  

How grateful I am for the cherished memories I hold in my soul that belong to me and you together. I am so grateful I had the kind of relationship that I can now cherish and feel so happy to have been a part of.  You are always a part of me and I love you endlessly.  

xoxo

Lis