The topic for today is :Tell a story from your childhood. Dig deep and try to remember how you felt.
When I was reminded what today is... I knew exactly what memory to talk about.
Rewind to 7 years ago today. A ten year old, oblivious me, was just doing her school in the living room. If I remember correctly, I was home alone with Becky and Ethan. My parents were out of town. Becky walks into the room and hands me a phone, telling me that Shelli has something to tell me. I don't remember how she worded it, but this is what she told me: Michael Burrhus (a man from my church) had died in a motorcycle accident on the way to work.
I don't think reality hit me until we were at his funeral a few days later, and I saw his wife Anita (Nene is what I've always called her) sobbing uncontrollably at the alter. This man, who was basically like an uncle to me (Nene is still like an aunt) was gone. I'd taken for granted knowing him most of my life. I was annoyed by all his teasing, but now? I would do anything to have that time back.
Mike was the kind of man that you couldn't help but love. He blessed every life he touched, and brought a smile to every face. He cherished his family, and made those that weren't his blood feel like family.
I remember the months after his death... seeing Nene crying during worship at church, and just going to her and us hugging eachother and crying together. I, we all still miss him so much. Just writing about him is breaking my heart all over again. He's the reason I can't stand motorcycles, and he is the one thing that I wish I could change. No, I wouldn't bring him back, but I would cherish the time I got to spend with him more. I would ask him more questions about life, and just be with him. Oh how I would do things differently..
|Love and miss you Mike.|