Today started off terribly. After a day in which I started running a fever and was getting really incoherent, I made the mistake of taking a decongestant last night. It sounded like a good idea -- get everything out quickly -- but instead, it irritated my sinuses too much and I've spent the day getting nosebleeds. The first one happened while I was supposed to be meeting with my and Chris's mothers at the reception site. I was a half an hour late and really shouldn't have been driving. After my second nosebleed, at the reception site, my mother and Marnie took my "To-Do" list away from me and started dividing up the tasks. Then my Mom made me leave my car at the Bible College, and took me home with her. Ky and Janice then showed up and took on the rest of my to-do list: making phone calls, running errands.
Today, which was supposed to be so busy, has been spent hanging out on my parents' couch, visiting with my grandma, drinking juice, and fiddling with wedding music. (My favourite.) Then I started getting messages from wedding guests who were offering to help decorate tomorrow, and wanted to know if there was anything else they could do (my terrible week has gotten around). On top of that, I got a few messages from dear friends who thought they couldn't come to the wedding, who now can come. And it makes me happy (and isn't a problem for the caterers).
He called me Mary, and I called him Mikey. And he always made sure I gave him a hug. He had the oddest, most creative sense of humour -- Karl and I made his birthday by giving him a Nick Carter birthday card that called him our "flyest friend." In return, he gave Karl a Barbie birthday card that included stickers. He and Chris had a deal that, should Mikey be able to round up a couple of camels, some llamas, and fresh dates, then Mike could buy me away from Chris. (I encouraged said deal.)
He was so creative and so thoughtful. He couldn't stay mad at me for very long, and very little made him happier than time spent at the "Mary and Meggy house." Especially when things were rough, you could expect that he'd show up at any time of the day or night. On one red-letter evening, he made himself a mask out of a KFC bag and wore it around for the evening.
He had a passion for Strong Bad E-mails, and called me "What's Her Face," whenever I wore my baggy pants and pigtails.
He phoned me from the line-up for auditioning for Canadian Idol, waking me up, and freely admitting (while in the presence of other auditionees) that he'd never watched the show before. He made it to the second round, and ended up opening for Captain Tractor, because they were so thrilled that he would sing one of their songs on national television. (Yes, the boy sang "The Last Saskatchewan Pirate.")
And his funeral is during my wedding; therefore, I'm having my own blogosphere memorial right now. I'm joining Lee, Derek and Becca in this memorial. I hope that, someday, all the hurt, the misunderstanding, the manic episodes, fall away and all we remember is the Mikey that I know and love: a good, godly boy, who cared so deeply about his friends, and talked about his family (especially his sisters) so constantly. And I know that he's at peace with his Father now.