A hard morning.

I have had a couple of hard mornings now. It doesn't help that whenever I cry I end up losing my breakfast... but that is just a part of what made them not to wonderful.

Yesterday I cleaned out Michael's classroom. It was so difficult to walk down that hallway and know that he wasn't going to be waiting in the classroom with a surprised look on his face because I brought him a treat for lunch. It did help that the classroom was mostly empty. They had just waxed the floor so it didn't really seem like his classroom. I had to go through drawers and cabinets for 5 hours trying to find anything personal that belonged to him. It was fun at times to come across a cute note to a student, or be surprised by finding his sheep brain in a cabinet when I wasn't expecting it. My poor mom wouldn't even look at it!

I did feel like I was helped by Michael at times. There were filing cabinets filled to the brim with what looked like test scores etc, but I was led to a yearbook and a folder full of the funniest notes I have seen any of his kids give him. They were ransom notes demanding cake. lol

After I finished and got ready to leave, I felt like a huge weight had been lifted off of my shoulders. This was one of the tasks I had been most dreading and parts of it ended up being pretty fun. I will really miss visiting him in his classroom, but I am glad that I had so many memories there in the first place. He always invited me down for his funnest days, so I got to see a side of him that most wives wouldn't have. I got to see him interact with those kids and make them laugh harder than I thought possible. They worshiped him, and so did I.

This morning was even harder, if that is possible. Little E came up to me while family around us was talking about her cousins daddy. She looked me in the eye and said, "Daddy Michael coming home soon." She didn't ask it like a question, it was a statement. She had even added in his name to be sure I wouldn't misunderstand her meaning. I had to look her in those beautiful blue eyes and say, "No honey, daddy isn't coming home. Daddy is dead remember?" She said "Sleeping?" I said, "Not sleeping, dead. Remember?" She then replied, "Little sleeping?" almost in a begging tone. Tears came to my eyes as I told her sadly, "No, dead. Remember? He is living with heavenly father and Jesus now." She got distracted at this point and walked away to play with a toy. My heart broke for her. How am I supposed to explain what has happened to a child that has no grasp of what life and death really are? How am I supposed to help her to make it through this time without her father? I know that he was called away to do something important, but what could be more important than this beautiful blue eyed innocent child? What could be more important than his son who will never be able to meet him?

I was starting to pull myself together when I realized that she would have been right! Michael was supposed to come home tomorrow. He would have finished up his work today, packed all of his things, and driven home to be with me tomorrow. We would have gone to his good friends wedding and spent a week with another of his friends. They would have gone out and kayaked and long boarded and had a great time. He would have been sleeping next to me again starting tomorrow night...

I still have faith that there is a plan and this is all a part of it. I know that this plan is for the good of all of us. That we cannot possibly understand the intricate pattern which is being woven by our loving Father in Heaven. He truly does love us. He loves my children, he loves me, and he loves Michael. I know all of this to be true. I just wish I could understand the pattern a little bit more, that I could glimpse a small peek at our future and understand how he will make this all better. Because someday, he will. This too shall pass, and time heals all wounds. Most importantly of all, my savior, Jesus Christ, felt and understood the pain that I am feeling now. He knows more intimately than any other person what I am feeling. He loves me and would never have allowed this to happen to me if it weren't for a very important reason. Someday, I too will be called home to his loving arms, and the arms of my dear husband. Then I will finally understand the beauty of what has happened here. I just have to be patient and have faith until that day arrives. He will give me strength to make it to that day.