The M&M Story

Today is November 7, a day that will always represent one of the most defining moments in my family's life. Fourteen years in Heaven. It was roughly 1:15 in the afternoon when Brian gave his last breath on Earth. It was a Monday, and that afternoon and for many years to come, I found myself begging and praying to God:  Please don’t let anything happen to me. I need to be healthy, strong, and alive for my boys, at least until they live on their own. Please, please, please don’t let me get sick.  As I reflect on that time, I know how traumatized I was, allowing my fear to own me. At some point, the feeling and prayers became less frantic because I learned to tuck the fear away. I guess I had hoped it would just disappear.  This year, as most of you know, has been a journey for my whole family. We have worked together to face challenges, and, yes, we have all grown. But the fear that I so carefully stuffed into the deepest part of my heart? Well, it never did disappear and ...

Last weekend, my sweet cousin got married. She was born when I was 20 years old and I have so many fond memories of her being the adorable, sassy sunshine of the family.  She married her love, they've bought a house together, and she's planning on starting grad school in the spring. All in her first year of marriage. The adventure begins. This reminded me so much of another life I once led--before babies, before cancer, before widowhood, before falling in love again.  My first year of marriage to Brian. What an amazing growing experience. On our first anniversary---the paper anniversary---Brian presented me with the most priceless gift a young wife could want. No, it wasn't a blank check to go on a trip or a shopping spree. Or blueprints for a new house. Or really anything that resembled something tangible. Instead, it was a beautiful expression of grace penned from his own hand. He had written an article on marriage.  And he had been published in the St. Louis Post-Disp...