Dear John

 

Dear John,

Today marks 8 years since you left this world.  It's cold and raining here in West Virginia this morning, just like it was years ago.   I packed lunch boxes this morning, fed my one-year old, hugged my 8 and 10 year old in hopes they'd have a great day at school,  kissed my husband goodbye, walked the dogs, fed the cats, ran through work emails, and when the movement of the early morning finally slowed, I sat down at my kitchen table, put my head into my hands and cried.  I haven't allowed myself to cry in years.  While the absence of you has circulated my veins, been in every inhale and exhale, every step and gesture for 8 years, you have a place within me that you stay, a place I've learned over the years to keep you at bay.  These are the survival instincts one must practice when someone like you leaves because the imprint you left on me and others is real.  But this morning, you erupted with determination and a demand for my attention that overwhelmed me.   I cried for your death, how unfair it was that your life was cut short as it was truly just beginning.  I cried for my loss, how unfair it was that the person I said yes to left way too soon and so abruptly.

I miss you John.  I miss your laugh, your witty jokes, the smell of sweat and burnt wood that always seemed to stay with you.  I miss the sound of your motorcycle pulling into our driveway, all the wild adventures, your cooking, and how safe I felt with you, even in the most dangerous situations. The world just isn't as good anymore with you not in it.  I am not as good anymore.  Your departure has taken my ability to feel things the way I once did with no fear.  I am more on guard now, wondering if this will ever happen again too soon.  Knowing that it can happen, and it has happened.  In many ways I feel emotionless as nothing has ever felt as terrible as the loss of you, so when things happen in my life or in others lives and they need me, I often do not cry, I'm not even sure I truly react as there is no weight bigger than the abrupt loss of you.  I hate that I can't feel things like I once did, the numbness is still there even as life has catapulted forward.  I'm not sure if its possible for that to truly change, your death changed my make-up, the way my mind works, the way my heart feels.  Death changes everything. 

I married a man that has so many similarities to you, yet has taken me on a totally different epic adventure, and let me tell you, it is EPIC.  Three little boys lives have been saved from this adventure, and while it is aging him and I, and there is no simplicity to our situation, we both know it is what we were called to do together.  You gave that to us, you gave that to three little boys.  There will never be a good enough reason for your death John, there simply is no reason why someone so young and so wonderful has to leave so soon.  What I hope you somehow know though, is that I did something good with it and I think of you every time I look at them.  My youngest son has your name in his, and one day I will tell him all about you, as I can already tell he has the twinkle in his eyes that you did.  

I love and miss you always and forever.  Thank you for your presence this morning, for encouraging me to go outside and feel the rain, to take a walk in the woods and to keep breathing.  Thank you for continuing to teach me so much as I am still here, and for reminding me that what I've done since your departure is truly epic.  

Erin