With Gusto

Dear Mike, 

     Your 44th birthday.  I just can't imagine anymore.  You on your way to 50.  You were practically a kid when you died.  My sadness has waxed and waned for the past few months.  I just can't believe it's nearly 20 years since you've passed.  It may as well be a lifetime.  It marks almost 10 years of unfinished business of the heart for me that is utterly wrenching at times.  If I could carry on your gift of pursuing your passions, interests and curiosities with the absolute gusto you gave each and everyone one of them I imagine that you would be cheering, clapping and "wooo-hoooing" like Kerrigan when Notre Dame is scoring a touchdown.  The angels alongside you would be wondering, "What on Earth is he going on about?"  I can see your smile and twinkle in your eye, your signature. 

     I love tradition, but it would be unlike me if I didn't change it up.  In honor of your gusto, our traditional birthday dinner of Mexican food (for your first job at Casa Burrito)  and chocolate eclairs (your choice dessert) are taking a year off in lieu of fresh Salmon and a croquembouche for dessert.  Our latest and fantastic success at our own story of gusto is actually catching a fish we can keep and eat!  And we are learning more and more with each attempt.  We are checking out different fly shops, finding our favorites, listening to suggestions, putting it all into practice, making new flies, practicing knots, scouting locations and researching online.  We even have our own favorite spots on the river to go now.  It's starting to feel like we sort of know what we're doing. when nearly a month ago I really felt like a complete idiot out there trying to figure it out after not much luck in the past.  And lastly I have wanted to make a croquembouche for years.  Maybe 8? 9? Maybe even 10.  Today I'm going to do it.  It's almost like a chocolate eclair ;) 

   I've written in years past that your birthday is like New Year's to me.  It's when my year resets itself, when I reflect on all that has passed and recount my accomplishments or what I haven't.  I still long for the year that I'm bubbling over with giants feats of passions pursued.  Could these small steps will be that giant leap?

     I miss what I imagined you would have been in my life today.  How we could have shared and enhanced each others skills.  I could use your driveway to part out our Volvo when I decided it was done.  We'd probably even work on the repairs together.  I didn't really get that chance with you.  That summer you worked on the motorcycle, I think it may have been your last summer, I could have learned from you.  Tears well up when I think back to that.  I was also scared of you sometimes.  I hate that.  I wish it weren't so.

     Saw this quote today.  "Forgiving you means I no longer dwell on what an a****le you are.  It doesn't mean you're no longer an a****le."  I thought of Randall,  except that I don't think he's an a****le.  But I no longer dwell on him, what he did.  I don't hate him.  I do feel sad for him.  Having to live with what he did for the rest of his life.  I can't imagine.  I don't think I could.  I do wonder what his life is like though.  If he is different.  If it's better.  Like I had hoped for you when you were a young adult. 

     I wish for the stray shards of my heart to find their final resting place this year, right back to where they fell from.  Made from a stronger tissue with threads of quiet and self-love woven through.  A tissue that sparkles like the gleam in your eyes, beaming joy that's powered by gusto. I want to smile like a 3-year-old's deep belly laughs again.

I love you.

Gabby

Gone But Not Forgotten

Dear Mike,

It's been 19 years and a day since you died. I didn't forget yesterday, just busy with my life that is finally slowing down a little. It's still sad.

Much love to you,

Gabby

Time Flies

Dear Mike,


You would be 43 today. My life is like a whirlwind right now. I had wanted to share this day and celebrate your life with more family. I'm just happy I am able to carry on tradition this year with Fionnegan and Corrianna. Kerrigan is hard at work for the family in Portland and working on our house there. We are scrambling to finish it. We're making enchiladas and chocolate eclairs today, after we take care of the horses though. We talk about you. Fionn asks questions from time to time. He wants to bring you flowers. I was thinking that I'd bring him to your grave when I visit next, hopefully in December. Yesterday he told Corri that I might cry a few tears today. I have trouble imagining where you would be in our lives this past year. It seems like other times it's so obvious to me what you would have been doing, what your life would be like. It's been a year of tremendous change for everyone in the family. It's crazy really how it's happened all at once and none of the change... relocation, multiple big moves, home renovations, business ventures and job changes...have been quick or small. Probably much like the year we all had our first child.

It's hard to believe we're nearing 20 years since you died. I've been dreaming of a big celebration of your life in 2015...well, my own celebration of it. An art installation, celebration, experience. A travel through your life and my mind. It could be appreciated by anyone and thought provoking to those that knew/know you and me.
I love you. I look for pieces of you in my life. I notice reminders of you out and about. I always think of you when I listen to Depeche Mode. I listened to them a lot on a recent drive to and from Portland. Loosing you was a mountainous loss but not one that defeated me. My heart will forever be broken open.

Happy Birthday!


Love,

Gabby

Love and Loss

Michael,

It's been 18 years since you died. Loosing you is my great sadness but I took my life back from the pain that stole it. I'm sad that you've missed soooo much of all of our lives and hope one day to share it all with you. A few months ago I came across this quote and I think it describes our relationship perfectly. "You can love completely, without complete understanding." ~ Norman Maclean  Although, as I age I feel as though I understand you more and more.

With so much love,

Gabby

Happy birthday, Mike!

     You would have been 42 today. This year what I miss the most is the opportunity to have known you today. As I continue to grow and get to know myself as myself, a mom and a wife I feel like I would have had a lot in common with you. It seems like we would understand each other, both battling our demons and pursuing our goals in life. I feel lucky and proud to say that my my demons are loosing. I keep picking myself up and we've been making great strides moving forward. I have a wonderful family with Kerrigan,  Fionnegan an Corrianna. You would love our kids. Fionn is glad to be named after you. It's all of our feast days tomorrow:) My goal this year is project completion both dreamt and started ones. A happiest of birthdays to you up in heaven.

Love,

Gabby

Uncle Mike, Can I Call You That?

Dear Mike,

When people ask me how many siblings I have, I say three brothers. Two older, one younger.  And while you're not technically older than me and haven't been for some time now, you still feel like my older brother.  I remember a long time ago, not too long after you died, I was talking to Andy about that.  When someone asks you if you have any brothers and sisters, and if so how many or how old are they.  You want to say the truth that you have three but that feels kind of weird because you have two alive and one dead.  You could say three and leave it at that but that kind of feels like lying because you are withholding information.  The thing is typically a person that asks you that question doesn't know you very well and you don't exactly want to say "my brother was killed" to someone you barely know.  Honestly, now, it doesn't really bother me to divulge that information, although at has been quite some time since you died.  But frankly, talking about how you died doesn't ruin my day anymore.  Sometimes missing you does, or memories I have good or bad, but the bare facts surrounding your death I can handle.

But now, I'm older, I have kids of my own, and I think of you not only as my brother but also as Uncle Mike.  Now, that feels weird.  Like that's a lie.  On a family tree it would be accurate.  I consider you their Uncle Mike even though you've never met them. Or, maybe you have.  I'm often convinced you must be Fionn's guardian angel.  Even though they have never met you there is still a role you play in their life.  I learn so much from you all the time.  There is so much about you they can learn from and connect with.  You would be a great uncle for them to have around.  While I mostly see how you and Fionn would connect on so many levels I know as Corri gets older she too would make those connections.  For one thing, she loves tie-dye as do Fionn, and Matthew.

So would you be their Uncle Mike, their guardian angel up in heaven, their angel on earth when their in need, would you please?

Love,

Gabby

P.S. I get to go visit you soon.  I'm excited because I can't remember the last time I got to.  I've wanted to for so long, but it's been hard to be able to.  I want to do something special for you but haven't figured out what yet.  I'll let you know what I decided.

My Mind Runneth Over

Dear Mike,

I have been doing mindful therapy with our family therapist.  While you have been dead for over 16 years I still get hit with these bouts of sadness.  I used to call them crashes but I don't don't feel I crash anymore.  I am still able to function just not at the full capacity I like to.  I decided to give this different approach to therapy a shot since I hadn't tried and what is there to loose.  Plus, I would like not to be continually hit with these bouts of sadness multiple times of year my whole life.  Or I guess if I had to I would like to be able to function more fully and be more present for my family.  When I have this bout of sadness my mind runneth over.  It's overflowing with imagery, imagery I want to turn into art.  Imagery full of powerful feelings and emotions.  Some I don't even realize I have until I examine more closely.  I have for years felt like something was wrong with me, like I'm crazy or something, because I get these pictures in my head.  My therapist said she thought it was human.  I thought otherwise because it was so dark.  But I was thinking about it and I realized it isn't just then.  I think it's when there is something I am passionate about that it happens.  Like Fionn's school for instance.  It's coming up against some significant change.  Change I want to be apart of because I want to ensure there is a school for him to attend next year that he will thrive at.  Since the announcement about the coming change that must take place for the school's survival I am again overflowing with ideas.  I am passionate about Fionn having a school to attend that is a good fit for him and I'm passionate about serving our community.

I was talking to Mom the other day about this project I am working on and how Dad helped me solve a problem with figuring out how to make my idea happen.  At a later time he mentioned to me about a project he was working on and how he accidentally invented a pinhole projector.  He's working on all kinds of stuff in his mind and is frustrated because he needs more time to produce them.  Matt has helped him figure some problems out with projects he was working on.  I love the collaboration going on in the family.  Then I realized it wasn't just me.  Matt must have all this stuff bubbling away in his head.  Remember his sketches?  On napkins, paper, sketch books, whatever was around.  His facebook timeline cover...classic Matt, pouring his brain full of stuff out into production.  Then I realized you too,  all of your lists and ideas.  For a period of time I thought that part of you was something else but when you look at the whole picture of our family I'm convinced this is a family thing.  Grandma Cullen had her concept about Chaucer's Canterbury Tales I think while in the bathtub.  I don't know how long it was before she was free to work on it but I think it was years.  Can you imagine how full her head must have been?  Is this part of the creative temperament?

The other thing I discovered about myself was that this has been apart of me before you died.  I have vivid memories of a pair of pants I was designing prior to your death.  They were going to be the four elements...earth, water, air, and fire.  I had fabric strips ready and colorful, shiny thread especially for the project.  I remembered wearing the unfinished version to work when I went to talk to my boss after you had died but before you were buried.  I never finished them.  I remember living in Las Vegas planning this stained glass, lighted false ceilling of "our tree" (the tree Kerrigan and I would lay under in Santa Rosa).  Later in Portland I was creating these branches wired for lit blossoms and leaves for show centerpieces, all in my head.

Here I've thought this was some messed up part of me and now I realize it was part of me from the very beginning of my life.  My creative soul born.

Love,

Gabby

P.S.  While I was writing this I realized even more.  Like a full pot boiling with the lid on...at a point the contents just can't be contained any longer and they're boiling over.  My feelings were spilling out all over my life.