Tomorrow, Megan would have been 22.
Here is my post from last year, changed only to account for the extra year.
My Dear Megan,
Tomorrow you would have been 22. Every year since your death we’ve continued to have a birthday cake on August 26 and to tell “Megan stories.”
Last week when I was looking for your old percussor, Mom said, “It may be in Megan’s toy box.” Without thinking, I began digging through the box, and then it overwhelmed me. I was immersed in you: your shoes, a couple of your favorite blouses, the stuffed cat you loved, etc. I could smell you, hear you, even feel you there.
All that to say that I’ve never stopped missing you. It’s been eleven years and nine months; but in grief-years it’s been so much less in some ways and so much more in other ways.
You rocked my world, my precious daughter. You didn’t enter this world with a bright intellect like your brothers did. You were, we eventually learned, “mentally handicapped.”
Big deal. There were so many other ways in which you were so precocious: in love, in forgiveness, and in joy. The only full sentence I ever heard you say in ten years was “I’m Megan”–and yet you became my minister who led me further along the way of Christ. Without even intending to, you exposed the shallowness of this world–a world obsessed with externals.
You were a jar of clay.
It’s hard to picture you at age 22. You have remained ten in our minds.
Since you died, life has in some ways been easier. You never wasted much of your short time sleeping! Easier . . . yet sadder. We would gladly go without sleep to be able to hold you and sing with you. (”I may never march in the infantry . . .”; “This is a song that doesn’t end . . . .”; “Jesus loves me . . . .”)
We would have loved seeing your joy at Matt and Jenna’s wedding. (You never got to meet her, but I think she would be your best friend.) And I imagined you there in ICU patting Christopher’s broken and bruised body after the wreck.
Your simple faith still guides us. Your love overwhelms and empowers us.
Soon and very soon, my dear . . . .
Love, Dad
When I read your letter to megan, i remembered her hair and her hugs and her endless energy. I pictured her taking all the pots & pans out of the Searcy house or running around that old brown couch. That’s the Megan I remember. I never knew her when she was sick in Abilene. I can’t believe how time passes. It seems like yesterday in many ways. I’m singing “I may never . . .” for her today.
I’m not much of a man of prayer, Mike. But, I’ve just now prayed for you. . .a prayer of thanks, a prayer for relief, a prayer for even clearer memory, a prayer for mercy and a prayer of genuine hope. I love you, brother.
Wow, Mike. I never got to meet Megan but reading that letter this year and last makes me wish that I had. Thanks for being vulnerable, honet, and letting us enter your world for a few minutes. I look forward to meeting Megan one day not too long from now.
Happy Birthday to Megan! I think I said something last year about hoping you had a good day of remembering her. And, though it’s not an original thought, I’ll pass that prayer on again this year. God bless you as you remember your darling daughter, tomorrow and always.
God Bless you and your family.
Mike,
Thank you for sharing your heart. In you sharing something that is so painful you bring us all to the understand that Megan gave you, love is the greatest miracle of all
Her papa and grammy still miss her so much as well as her cousin. Just a few more days…what a great day that will be. We love you all.
Hi Mike,
I read your blog quite a lot and often think of Megan. I knew Diane at Harding as we were in classes together. I used to babysit Megan at your home and a few times in my Harding apartment. I’m in my 15th year of teaching special education and part of that has to be because of what a neat child that Megan was to me. I haven’t seen your family in what seems like a thousand years, but I can see Megan’s face as plainly as can be. I remember that she liked cheese and loved her stroller. I don’t know how many times I told her that she was so lucky to already have that ticket to heaven in hand. She may be the very first person I look up!
The Meg at 22? Oh my!
Mike,
I do not know you but have been uplifted by your blog. It is a blessing to me to hear your words to your daughter. I hope you and your family have a great day celebrating her life tomorrow!
Peace,
Kyle Smith
Lord come quickly.
Lord bless and keep you….
hi uncle mike~i still continue to think and remember megan. i miss her and jb. wish i could be there to share in the memories tomorrow. i love you all! xoxo
Thank you, Mike, for sharing your memories which stir our sweet memories of Megan too. Isn’t the gift of memory a blessing! Love to you and Diane, and to Chris and Matt. Kathy
Hi Mike,
Thanks for allowing me the privilege to know Megan. I will never forget the few opportunities that Mary and I had to babysit. We learned so much from her. We often reflect on those memories and thank God for allowing her to be in our lives. May God provide His peace and comfort to you and your family. Love, Vic
This is such a beautiful testimony of your love for Megan. As I read it this year, I thought of how powerful and poignant memories of those we love can be. God calls us many times in scripture to remember. The greater our love, the greater our memory. Maybe the degree to which we remember Christ and what he has done and is doing for us, is in proportion to our love for him. “If you love me…”
Thank you Mike for allowing your blog readers to share in this holy moment.
Precious Megan,
I never knew you, but I feel like I have. I have seen your pictures on every wall in your home. (In fact, Chris and I lay the pictures down when we play P-I-G in the living room so that we don’t break them. We get a little too creative and crazy sometimes.) I have heard countless stories about your life. I have slept in your room many nights in the past year, often going to bed thinking about you and how much I wish that I knew you. I wish that I had the chance to sing “I may never…” with you. I wish I could have played in the yard with you. I wish we could have held hands, and have given each other kisses on the cheek. More than anything, I wish that I could tell you how much your family loves you. They absolutely adore you. They keep you alive today.
I love you Megan.
Mike..how blessed Megan has been to have a Father like you. You have touched my heart today. Please, please don’t ever stop sharing Megan stories with us because we all walk away so blessed.
May God’s love and comfort embrace you and your family on this day of rememberance of your beautiful Megan.
Happy Birthday Megan!
I have been thinking a lot about the way Jesus presents the things of this world in an upside down manner. How those who have the least actually have the most. How those who suffer have the greatest joy.
Megan…we miss you! I miss your wild singing of “The Lord’s Ar-MY”. I miss your smile.
Mike, we love you. Diane, Matt, Chris…all of you. Blessings to each of you as you remember with love.
Brandon
Dear Mike, Diane and Family,
Your precious thoughts about Megan bring back so many dear memories I have of her and all of you. She could pull an eyepatch off in a heartbeat and earrings, too. Toothbrushes and toilet water made great pulpit stories! She was always a joy in Bible class… I still teach in those same rooms. I also remember the last time I played with her was in a motel pool in Alabama. You were the speaker at a youth rally Mike and I had driven with the youth group from Tallahasse(PhD. days for my Mike). It was a great weekend and she so loved the pool. Thanks so much for taking my heart back to those earlier days and those sweet memories.
Dear Megan, you are continuing to take us to places that we don’t expect. You remind us that what we think is important really isn’t. Stories about you remind me of several things…life can be short, sometimes it doesn’t matter how much we truly understand-only that we trust, take joy in the moment, sing with all your heart, love unconditionally, and it is okay to be messy. You live on in the hearts of so many people. I especially love hearing your mom talk about you.
Can’t wait to meet you. love, Julie
Dear Mike,
No parent can read your post without shedding tears. And yet, your testimony about the love of a father is your most powerful witness of the divine revelation of God’s love for us. We are in Michigan this weekend with Rachel and Klint and Abigail. If the events had turned out differently, I can only hope that I could exhibit a faith like yours. Your life proclaims the best of the good news!
Grace and Peace,
Bradford L. Stevens
St. Louis, MO
I read your post this morning and couldn’t help but fill up with tears. As I drove 5 hours to visit relatives today I couldn’t help but let my mind wonder back to your family. Happy birthday, Megan!
Made me cry last year. Made me cry again this year. I appreciate your willingness to share your most personal and tender of feelings about Megan with the rest of us.
Someday I look forward to my Matthew and your Megan having a conversation together in heaven. Maybe they’ll be nice enough to let us interrupt.
Dear Mike,
I just happened upon your blog, or so I think. I’ve heard you speak both here in Searcy and in Abilene. As in your preaching, you wrote from your heart to my heart, which is all ears. I too have a special daughter. Her name is Katie, and she is nine. She was born with Down Syndrome and absolutely loves birthday parties. They rank third, right behind swinging and swimming. I never knew about Megan until now, but she sounds a lot like my Katie. As I write this, Katie is lying in bed, making funny sounds, and endlessly repeating lines from “Nemo” and “Annie.” We light up when she utters a two or three word sentence, and call it a great day. I know that some day, she and Megan will sit and giggle, and talk non-stop about all the things they love. For me, I treasure the single words she speaks. Like… Daddy.
Thank you for sharing Megan.