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362 Improbable Days
Journal entry by Michael March - 12-22-2016

  As the year that was 2016, slowly winds down, with the unfettered happiness of Christmas only children feel, and what all adults fondly remember, this year is surely coming to a close. While the adults among us look forward to doing our taxes, getting through the months needed to go on our next vacation, or maybe even starting your retirement years, the new year of 2017 opens with such hopes of better times, and the year of 2016 comes to an end.

  Yet still, for me, December 31 at midnight, is simply the end of 361 days out of 365. I totally understand now I will beat the time frame of 180-365 days to live the HopDocs gave me, but the closing out of 2016 brings only tears to my eyes. See, the next year is 2017, which is how most of us will remember, but in my family it will be the year we lost Mike. There could be others as well, and I certainly hope if there are, there are very few and very old.

  With each upcoming holiday in 2017 I will hear "See, you didn't think you would make it last year to this holiday, but you did." if I have not yet died of this lung cancer that is sapping my strength. I won't be thinking that way for any "special day" before August 20, by birthday. Because I truly did not think I would live to see that day. However, I did in 2016, but I will not in 2017.

  I tear up when I think of my mother and my wife tearing up when they start telling people this is the first "special day", whatever special day it is, that Michael is not with us. Anything and probably everything that made my life, "My life", will have been thrown to the winds and redistributed to family members or straight to Hospice, or the dump.

  I will be a memory. I will be these writings left in the "ether" that named the "net" all those years ago. My web site will stay up for a few years, then it too will go away and maybe someone from my family will just see if Mike's Web Spot is still up, an find that it no longer is. Maybe they will spend a moment, or let other family members know Mike's site is no more. But now the memory of me is up to what everyone remembers and the stories start to get happier, maybe more fun, and the bad times will feel less bad now that I'm dead and nothing more than a memory.

  I wish I knew why posts like these come at times like these, but here another post is made.

  Hug each's truly all you have. M
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