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Driving reminds me of Jason, a mundane thing, sure.  Every time I’m on a long stretch of road, I remember our road trips.  The best times we ever had.  Driving 24 hours to Tennessee, going camping on a whim.  Driving up to Fort McDowell to drop off T-shirts.  Driving up the coast of California in our 5th Wheel.  Driving the Road to Hana.  Driving.  We loved to drive together.  We drove everywhere.  With Kids, before kids.  We loved to GO.  I feel that now.  I haven’t just gone in a while.  I look at small RV’s and think, I could just go.  Be a gypsy.  Home school my kids, live on the road.  I could do it.  I want to to do it.  I don’t.  Its not what is best for my kids.  Not right now, but someday.  Someday I will go.  I will go on the road and live.  I miss him most on the weekends.  Every single weekend since he has gone, I have missed him.  I have cried.  I miss him. 

My kids and I talked about him a lot today.  About how mommy and daddy were married.  How in God’s eyes we were one.  We were one.  Half of me was ripped away.  I’m OK.  I am.  But I’m not whole.  I’m in pieces.  I’m OK.  Again, I am.  I choose to be.  But part of me is missing, and is always going to be missing.  People who know me, know that I love completely.   I am loyal.  I don’t give up, ever.  Not ever.  Even when maybe i should. 

Its hard now to let him go.  To not refer to myself as Jason’s wife, as Mrs. Olsen, as married. 

Loss is a funny thing, it has funny consequences.  Its not like I deliberately chose to be separated from him, or a “conscious uncoupling” as celebrities like to refer to divorce as.  It was not chosen.  Not by me anyway.  He died.  He can never hold me again, he can never fix it by just giving me a hug or making me smile.  I miss him, like someone misses their foot after its amputated.  You needed that foot, you miss that foot, but its not coming back so your going to try to learn to live without it.  You would never choose to cut off your foot, but it happened and you have to go on without it.  That’s how I feel. 

I keep thinking time is going to fix things.  I keep thinking that after its been a while, its going to not hurt at every holiday (My sons three year old Birthday is this weekend) I keep thinking its going to stop hurting.  It doesn’t.  It just doesn’t go away. I dont think its going to.  I just have to keep learning to deal with my heart hurting.  Someday maybe I will go away from here.  Start a new life, but it wont go away.  He is always going to be missing from my life.  I will stop talking about him, I already have for the most part.  Who wants to hear about a dead person?  My family didn’t even like him, why would they want to hear about him?  My kids and I will always miss him.  

I’m angry that I lost him years ago, even more angry that it ended in death.  Angry in a way though, as I wish it wasn’t this way, but accepted that it did.  I try to be positive, I even succeed often.  Things are better, they are not “going to get better” they already are.  This is the better.  I smile, I laugh, I live, I go on.  Without my foot though.  Without half of my heart.  Its not growing back.  Its just gone. 


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