Our family always loved to celebrate the holidays, especially Mike. He enjoyed each one of them from Thanksgiving through the Christmas season and ending with the celebration of another New Year. When COVID-19 invaded our home, it came during this most happy time of year. On November 20, 2020, Mike started to show the first symptoms of the virus. One week later, on Thanksgiving night, he was admitted to the ICU. That was the night our family’s lives changed forever. The doctor said he didn’t think Mike would make it through the night, but he did. I prayed every day that he would come back home to us.

Our oldest son insisted that we put up our Christmas tree, so Dad could enjoy it when he came back home. But my sweetheart never made it back home to us, and the holidays would never be the same from then on. Thanksgiving Day would forever be the day the ambulance with its siren blaring sped through the streets, taking Mike away from all those he loved and all of us who loved him. How could our family ever feel thankful or grateful again on this day? As each year passed, we continued to gather and express our blessings and all that we were thankful for, but the words felt hollow. Grief was the unwelcome guest at our dinner table, occupying the seat where Mike should have been telling his stories, discussing football, laughing and enjoying the meal.

This year, our family will reach a “milestone”. December 16, 2025, will mark the 5th anniversary of Mike’s transition from this world to where his spirit lives on. As so many of us know who have lost our loved ones to the virus, this milestone year can hit especially hard.

I often say to people who never met my husband, I wish you could have met Mike. You would have instantly made a new friend. You would have met someone who cared about how you were doing, how your family was doing, and who always made time for others. He was someone who loved deeply and forgave freely. He was like a little kid at times, doing the silliest things to make his grandkids laugh by making “googly eyes” or changing the words to the song “Holly Jolly Christmas” to hully gully Christmas. Mike, who gave the best bear hugs, who saw the glass half full most of the time. The man who prayed for the safety of his family every day, who saw the best in people and never let life get him down, even on those occasions when it should have. Mike, never complained even when he had partial vision loss and other physical ailments. And, especially, the man who while in the hospital made friends with his nurses and asked them if there was anything they would like him to pray for them. Even, with the virus, he kept praying until those days when he couldn’t.

As I drove to work this morning, I started to reflect about this coming Thanksgiving Day. I thought about my Michael. We were blessed to be married for almost 49 years. Through the good days and some bad days, he was my strength, my best friend, my cheerleader, my companion, my soulmate, my shoulder to cry on and my lover. Mike brought joy to my life and showed me the meaning of unconditional love. I began to smile, even though I know that Thanksgiving Day won’t ever be the same again. I knew there could never be a more appropriate day to give thanks and be grateful for the legacy he left us. You left our home that day, but you will never leave our hearts. And for who he was to us and all who knew and loved him, we are grateful and thankful every day of the year.