My Michael

When my husband of thirty-three years passed away unexpectedly I was, as one would guess, devastated.  Suddenly I was alone.  Family was hundreds, even thousands of miles away.  There were friends and acquaintance, but as anyone who has been through the death of a loved one will tell you after the first couple weeks they are busy getting on with their own lives.  That’s a fact, not a complaint.  So I busied myself with getting my house in order (we had just moved) and spending time at our local VFW Post.  I became a lifetime member of the Ladies’ Auxiliary and volunteered a lot.  While it helped some, the tears flowed freely during the seemingly endless nights.  My grief was private and I did my best not to burden others with its immense sadness.
 In time I began seeing a man I met at the post, but it didn’t take long to realize we were two lonely people needing someone—but not each other.  That’s when Michael entered the scene and I heard Rascal Flatts sing Bless The Broken Road for the first time.  It is the story of both our lives.  Broken dreams, love gone bad or lost, and all the false starts were just part of the pathway leading us to each other.  We look back and wish we could have found each other sooner, but the truth is we had to follow our separate roads to the point where we could and would truly appreciate what we have now.  We have been together almost three years now and no matter what comes I thank God every day for the broken road and Michael.