I am not a writer

I am not a great writer.  Throughout college my younger sister would read my papers and edit them for me so my work would be somewhat presentable in class.  This continued as I applied to jobs my senior year at James Madison University.  Bird would read my cover letter, shake her head in disbelief and then re-write each letter for me so her big sister could get a job.  Thanks sis:)  She did this on top of her own school work, no questions asked.

It's been 61 days since I've seen John.  I can replay that last day with him in my head so clearly.  One day I will tell that story to all of you.  I am not a writer, yet I have quite a bit on my mind and no where for it to go.  I have been writing in a journal since losing John, mainly memories that cross my mind.  I write everything down so I can savor it, remember it and revisit it when I want.  Some of those stories I may share, some are just for him and I. 

John was my heart.  Everyday I would think to myself, "wow, I love my husband so much it is insane!  How do I have it this good?"  He was an incredible lover, best friend, kayaking partner, mountain biking companion, dog owner, the list goes on and on.  We even worked as a team giving our cat "Dingles" insulin shots for a few months.  He was my family, my world, and we had a beautiful life here in Southern Oregon.  Sometimes it felt too good to be true.  John and I were both very independent, yet worked as a team.  I have never had anyone balance me the way that he did.  We were not perfect, we were simply perfect for each other.  Never in a million years did I think I'd quit my high paying career of 7 years, sell (I mean give away), my house in a low market, leave my friends and family and move across the country to seek a life of adventure and the unknown.  My husband built this confidence in me and taught me how to live.  I took this leap of faith with him as we came to Oregon together.  Even under these circumstances, I still feel so blessed to have been married to someone who brought out the need for adventure in me. 

Living on this earth without him just plain sucks.  There is no other way to put it.  I hate it.  Some days feel impossible, as if I am walking around in a Jello mold, unable to function.  I now live in the shell of once was a beautiful life.  John is everywhere I look, yet he's gone.  It is a shock to my system every morning, and still feels impossible, as if it could not have happened. 

I am not a writer, but I've decided to start writing.  I have a lot on my mind.  Many feelings, thoughts and beliefs about losing John.  My hope is that creating this blog will help me to release those thoughts and be honest with myself about what loosing John has really been like for me.  A friend recently told me that while writing may not help me, it will help someone else.  Maybe it will help you to hear my story and know who John was.  I hope so.