When Jason was battling Glioblastoma I faithfully kept up his Caring Bridge site. Although I had never written much of anything in the past, I found that many people enjoyed my writing style…loved being able to keep up with our journey…learn more about us through my posts…and that the writing was therapeutic for me. Now I hope that with this blog I can continue to reflect on the past…mourn in the present…and maybe find some hope for the future.
Love was the building block upon which Jason and I built our whole entire lives around. We loved each other and our children with everything we had. I’m not sure yet what my life looks like without the love of my life in it. It is hard to look forward to a future of loneliness. I am grateful that he left me with three beautiful children to live for.
Tennis has been a big part of our lives from the very beginning. It is what brought Jason to UW-Eau Claire where we met. Jason played tennis for many, many years and we made numerous fantastic friends through tennis. Many of our trips and great memories are tennis-related. Our children have all been involved in tennis…playing and coaching. I work at a local fitness club in the Tennis Center and have a great support system there.
Cancer is a word that you never, ever want to hear in relation to someone you love. Glioblastoma in particular is not something I would wish upon my worst enemy. It is a brutal disease….stealing away bits and pieces of its victim little by little, day by day. For 15 months cancer consumed our whole entire lives…and now our lives are irreparable changed because of it.
I’ve restarted this blog post like three times. I want to write a post about how I’m feeling pretty good right now. I’ve managed to string a week…maybe a week and a half even…of good days together. But “feeling good” is hard to admit to myself…let alone admit it to others. It’s hard for me because it’s unfamiliar and I don’t know quite how to trust it. I used to feel almost “unfaithful” to Jason if I had a good day…like how could I have a good day without him here? I don’t feel that way anymore because I’ve realized that even when I’m having good days…and sometimes especially when I’m having good days…I miss his presence. I feel his absence. He’s still in my mind and my heart.
Good days are hard to admit to others because I often feel like there is a waiting or expectation that someday I’m going to be done with grief…done with mourning…done being sad…ready to move on. And I feel…and this could be completely untrue…that there are certain friends and family members who have not known how to “deal” with me the past 4.5 years and are just waiting for that time. For me to be “normal” again. And that is just not going to happen.
I’ve been getting more and more comfortable with…what I call…living in the AND. It’s the fact that a lot of times multiple feelings can all be true at the same time…even if they seem to contradict each other. I think I’ve probably written about it before, but the more I do it the less confusing life feels. I had a really good weekend with my kids AND I really missed my husband and wished he could have been there. I have a really awesome support network who I know are there for me whenever I need AND they will never be able to replace my husband. I really like to spend time with my extended family AND it’s hard because I feel the absence of my husband very keenly in those circumstances.
So today my thought is…I had a really good weekend! Anna had off, so I got to spend good time with her. We played a game, which she hasn’t had time to do with me in awhile. I spent a lot of time outside. Went for a long walk with a friend. Had good conversation and watched tennis with Seth. Levi checked in. I bought some flowers. AND I missed Jason.
Therapists should not be allowed to go on vacation. I know my sister who is going to school to be a therapist just read that line and laughed. And I’m kidding…they more than deserve a vacation…and mine rarely takes one…so I’m happy she gets a break…I guess. I just always feel like my therapist being gone sends out some signal to the universe that now’s the time to test me.
Every week my therapist gives me “homework”. This week I decided to proactively give myself homework to make sure I keep my head up. I decided to start a Positivity Journal. Basically a journal full of lists of things to focus on that are positive. So far I have “Things That Make Me Smile”. I have some ideas for other lists as well based on travel, books, writing, music, quotes, hobbies, people, etc. I actually got this idea from a really smutty romance I read…the protagonist’s lists were a little different…lol. In the back of my mind I envision essentially coming up with my own “pixie dust” to help me fly when I feel like I’m being pulled underground. A book that isn’t somebody else’s ideas of what should make me feel better, but my own tried and true methods. And “yes” I know I have bad handwriting…my kids make fun of me for it all the time.
We go through life “making memories”…and in doing so I think that my expectation…and maybe other’s as well is that it’s the “best days” that make the most lasting memories. The days we’ll never forget. That you wish you could just press “play” on in your brain and watch them over and over again. And I do have memories like that. Honestly, sometimes the memories have smoothed over in my head and become almost better than the real thing. Instances where my “rear-view mirror” is definitely rose-colored. Kind of like birthing a baby I guess…the pain is forgotten.
How is it that we can so easily “forget” the painful moments in a “best day”, but the memories of the “worse days” don’t fade in the same way? They’re always right there in technicolor…dolby surround sound (is that even a thing anymore? I don’t know). The moments that ripped me apart…and keep ripping me apart…that play over and over in my brain without my permission. This past week I looked at my therapist through my tears and flat out said, “This is what I pay you for. Fix me”…and I was joking…but not.
And really when my heart is aching and I can’t take a deep breath…it’s not the “best days” or the “worse days” that I’m thinking about. It’s the “normal days”. The mundane things. The feeling of picking up my phone to see some random text from Jason…of hearing his car pull into the driveway…of doing dishes after dinner together and him teasing me because I would put the leftovers in containers, but forget to put them in the fridge…going on walks with my hand in the crook of his elbow because holding hands while walking always felt awkward…having a warm place to stick my cold feet in bed…the way he thought my sense of humor was ridiculous “you think you’re hilarious, don’t you?”…watching our kids do all their things and looking at each other and feeling so much pride in the humans we made together…his arms around me at night when it’s storming or even just windy because he knew I was freaking out inside…watching him play tennis and the way he always wanted me and the kids to be present and included in his tennis world…I could go on and on…
And now the normal just feels mundane. And as much as I have great kids and fantastic friends…making the normal somehow feel like LIVING again is something I just have to figure out solo. And that is exhausting.
I’ve been trying to pay more attention to the Universe lately. Synchronicities. Those times when the same things…same ideas…same people keep coming up over and over again. In November and December especially I was struggling being around people. Cancelling plans with friends. Just wanting to be left alone really. Even texts from friends or family “just checking in” were annoying to me. Like I wanted them to be concerned on the one hand…but then on the other I didn’t want to talk to them. Mostly, because I didn’t know what to talk about…what to say…how to describe what was wrong…other than “Jason’s not here”. And really isn’t that enough?? But then if I didn’t respond I would feel guilty…like I was hurting their feelings. So…the solution…mask UP…pretend all is well. So…big clue from the Universe number ONE.
Clue from the Universe number TWO came from my kids. As the years without Jason go on and our kids get older I have been letting them see more and more the struggle around the Holidays. How hard it is for me to “do the right thing”. In 2024, I didn’t even put a tree up. In 2025, I woke up on Thanksgiving and decided that maybe a tree would be okay. The boys were at a tennis drill that morning so it was just Anna and I. I mentioned getting the tree out and 15 minutes later she had all things Christmas dragged up from the basement. I put some things up. Some things I said “no” to. She put the tree up and got the lights on. And suddenly I was overwhelmed. I told her how I was feeling as she was opening up the box of ornaments and without question she took it back downstairs. And I realized that these years when I have been wanting to do what they expect…wanting to make the Holidays special…they have been more worried about me than anything else. We exchanged minimal gifts on Christmas Day…but one of the things that they gave me was “Travel Money”….and I burst into tears.
Around the New Year I was scrolling on Facebook and happened to see a post from a MN travel blogger that I don’t even follow…and haven’t seen anything from since…about a treehouse in Pepin, WI. Do you know what has always fascinated me? Treehouses. I mean I love trees. What could be better than actually having a house in one? I found the treehouse on AirBNB and they happened to have a random couple nights in February open. Guess what? Clue from the Universe number THREE.
So yesterday afternoon I battled some kinda crappy weather to check into my treehouse, for my much-needed solo adventure. And if I needed a clue from the Universe number FOUR that I am in the right spot…it’s the train tracks. Yeah…yeah…weird right? Most people don’t want to vacation right by train tracks…except…I do. In August, 2020 Jason and I celebrated what we were hoping wouldn’t be our last anniversary. 20 years…no small accomplishment…but also so much less than what we thought we would get together. We rented a teeny tiny cabin in Alexandria and had a fantastic time. When I think back to the last time that I can point at and remember US…just being “Ree and Jas”…it is our time in that cabin. Right by train tracks….very active train tracks…that would shake the whole cabin multiple times during the day and night. After he died in August, 2021 the place that I longed to go back to was that cabin…and I did….by myself. It’s where I was finally by myself and able to fall completely apart. So yesterday, when I got here and heard the train, and felt the slight shaking of the treehouse, all I thought was “Hi Love. I miss you”.
And man it’s hard being here by myself. It would be the perfect spot for a romantic couple’s getaway. https://www.pepinforesttreehouse.com/ …you’re welcome. I can totally imagine Jason and I in this space…and how different it would be. But then I also have to remind myself that just because it’s different now, doesn’t mean it’s bad. I love having time by myself to just be myself…find myself…figure out who I am as a person without the responsibilities of every day life on my shoulders. I have spent my day today reading, writing, playing guitar. I enjoyed the hot tub a few times. I have spent time just gazing out the window…watching the birds in the trees…and thinking.
And what I have been thinking about the most is “regret” and “guilt”. I don’t know that I have come to any profound conclusion about either of those things…other than both of them suck ass. Guilt is an emotion that comes so easily to me. It makes me sacrifice myself again and again and again for things that are not my fault and I really have no business owning. My therapist calls me on it ALL the time…sometimes multiple times a week. “That’s not yours to hold”…she says over and over. And even when I try to believe her…something in me still doesn’t. And regret…well, regret just hurts because a lot of what I regret is unfixable…unchangeable…un-do-over-againable. And I guess the answer to regret is grace…but let’s face it…grace has never been my strong suit…even with myself. I have overwhelming compassion for people until they hurt me…and then well…they’re out. Grace was all Jason. I try to play a WWJD (What Would Jason Do) scenario in my head, but honestly, in some instances I think even Jason would say “F them”. But how do I move forward from that?
But other than some “heavy” thoughts, my time here in the treehouse has been so peaceful….and exactly what I needed.
Valentine’s Day…love is in the air…especially here in MN where the weather is surprisingly “spring-like”. I am reminded of the scene at the beginning of Bambi where all the animals are “twitter-patted”. Side-note: that’s the first movie I remember seeing in the theater. One of my aunts took me and I loved it right up until the point when Bambi’s Mom is killed and then I started crying and climbed in her lap. Anyway…Valentine’s Day.
On Thursday morning, I met one of my friends for coffee before work. I love that we are both morning people and can do that every once in awhile. It’s such a good start to my day…actual human conversation. Usually I have just the dogs to talk to…or Anna…and neither one of them talk back…at least not in the mornings…lol. My friend is a chaplain and divides her week between three nursing/assisted living/memory care homes. Last week she was asking the residents to “tell me something about love”. One of the gentlemen that she was talking to in the dining room told her that he never had any luck with that and eventually gave up. Then one day he had a stroke and ended up moving in to the home where my friend works. He has been there for several years now. And then he said, “Now I know that love is always having somebody to eat a meal with”.
That simple truth resonates so strongly with me. The days when I know one of my kids will be home to eat dinner with me definitely feel better than the ones where I know I will be sitting at the table by myself. I know that we will actually have a “real meal” on those days, as opposed to when I am by myself I am often tempted to just make a frozen pizza…or like last night…chips, salsa, and a beer. I also know I will have somebody there to talk with. It’s usually the time when my kids, especially Seth, will open up about things to me. Levi shows his love by cooking those he cares about good food. Tomorrow he is having a group of his college friends over…maybe 10 of them…to make homemade gyros. Meal times…and who we choose to share them with…say a lot.
Today I don’t know what my plans are. Anna is home today, so I’m sure that we will do something together. A walk. The zoo. A plant shop. All possibilities. What I do know, is that tonight I won’t be eating dinner alone…so it already looks like a good day!
Recently, I’ve had a couple people ask me if I still write poetry. The answer is always “yes”…even if it’s just in my head….but here’s the latest that made it to paper.
Full Moon
Lie in bed Stare across the empty Expanse Where you used to lay
Gaze drawn Out the window Full moon Cyclops eye unblinking
Fingers reach Grasp on to nothing Cars keep passing World goes on
I haven’t posted since October 8th…Jason’s birthday. The reason why I stopped is…well…complicated. This past Fall/Winter/Holiday season was mentally and emotionally tumultuous (fun…using that word…I like it). I had a perfect storm of things going on: Levi at school, a new job, navigating newer friendships, struggling with old pain-filled relationships, the Holidays, not feeling well, etc. I was trying to stay upright under a load that felt way too heavy for my shoulders, living up in my head a lot, not sleeping, haunted by feelings of guilt, feeling like I was failing my kids and my husband and myself, wondering how I was going to keep on going like this for the rest of my life. I was not in a good place, so I got quiet.
Don’t get me wrong, there were some good times thrown in there. In October, a friend and I joined a Learn to Curl league. That was super fun. You may be watching curling in the Olympics right now…it is challenging and, dare I say, kinda badass! In November, I went on a cabin trip with a friend. One of the highlights of that trip was seeing an owl on our walk back to the cabin from the bathrooms. It just sat on a branch and let us admire it. So cool! In December, I spent a night with some of Jason’s sisters. We VRBO’d a place in Hudson, WI thinking we would spend the evening exploring Downtown. The weather didn’t cooperate with that plan so we ended up staying in. It was the absolute BEST. Laughter, tears, and a fair amount of blackberry Jack Daniels. In January, the kids and I went to an escape room and out to dinner. We also spent many, many hours around the Holidays together….watching movies, playing games, laughing, sometimes crying—at least I did.
But I could feel myself….sinking, sinking, sinking. I started cancelling plans with friends because I couldn’t bear the thought of dragging myself out of the house and pretending I was fine…or attempting to even talk about what was happening with me. My writing dried up for awhile. I felt like I had nothing to say of value. That people were probably sick of listening to me whine. I felt like I was becoming so careful in my words on my blog because I didn’t want to hurt anybody’s feelings, that my voice had become muted. My writing wasn’t helping me process anymore, it had just become another place where I wasn’t good enough. The dark and cold of winter kept me in my house and out of the healing arms of Nature. I was spending a lot of time scrolling, scrolling, scrolling on my phone and soon I was adding the fear and pain of ICE-terrorized Minneapolis on my shoulders.
I felt like I was living my life in…what I call…”the spins”…where I can’t get my brain to shut off and it obsesses over the same things over and over again…spinning them around and around and around and around…looking at them from different angles…trying to fix them through various scenarios. My brain filling in the missing pieces of the situation…like what other people are thinking or feeling…until the story in my head is complete…but probably not completely accurate. And then I become “untethered” and lose my grip on reality because I’m living like the story is true…completely ignoring the fact that parts of it are completely made up by my brain. This is not a new thing for me, I just used to have a live-in reality check.
And here’s where I, once again, stress the importance of having a good therapist. My hours with her were spent unraveling “the spins”…verbalizing hurt that goes back years in many cases…examining motivations behind things I keep on doing that are detrimental to my mental and emotional health. She kept asking “why” and I kept saying…because my kids…because Jason would want…because it feels selfish not to…because I don’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings… And finally, she looked at me and said, “If you are doing things that cause you pain and don’t fill your cup in some way, you need to give yourself permission to stop doing them. That is called self-care, not being selfish”.
We also talked a lot about my Mama Bear and how hard it is to have adult children. She makes choices that sacrifice her own well-being time and time again because she thinks what she is doing is for the good of her kids. She wants to growl and snap at anyone who she thinks might pose a danger to them. In her mind, they have gone through enough pain and loss in their lives and must be protected from further trauma. She failed at protecting them before, and she will not fail them again. All well and good when her children were, well, children…but now they are adults…and she is learning to stand by and pace while they make their own choices. This is especially hard when it concerns relationships with other people. When she’s standing at the door as they leave saying, “Have a good time!” while in her mind she is sharpening her claws.
And we talked a lot about Jason. When he was sick we spoke very little about what would happen after he was gone. People sometimes ask me if he “gave me permission” to find someone else. It was never even a topic of conversation. I think because the idea of someone else for either of us is just inconceivable. I still feel married–still wear my rings and don’t see a time when I would change my mind about that. We didn’t talk about finances at all. I had no idea if the kids and I would be okay or if we would be living in a van down by the river. I remember trying to bring it up with him a few times but he was unable to wrap his brain around that conversation, so I pushed that stress aside as much as I could. He also didn’t seem to be at all concerned about how the kids and I would survive without him. I remember breaking down about that on more than one occasion and his confidence that I could do it, with the help of our support system, was unflappable.
And then he died. I still have a husband, he just isn’t here. We’re not living in a van down by the river. The kids are doing awesome…and I’m, well, I’m not awesome, but as I told my sister the other day “my life doesn’t feel like total shit right now, so I guess that’s good”. I’ve been working on self-care a lot….turns out it involves way more than taking a bath and lighting a candle. I went to the doctor for the first time in 18 years. Found out that I will ugly cry at the littlest thing in the doctor’s office, so that was real fun. But I managed to get a clean bill of health and even had my first mammogram. My body didn’t know what to do with all that attention…lol. I started walking on my treadmill and eating healthier. I’ve been writing most mornings again. I needed something to fill my evenings, so I started playing guitar. Which I absolutely love. I’m so excited to be able to take my guitar with me wherever I go…guitar by the campfire is in my future for sure.
And I look at my life…and the lives of our kids…and sometimes it is hard not to feel guilt over the pieces of it that I know are not what Jason was confident they would be…but I also know that my happiness and the happiness of our children are always the most important things to him. And then I feel PROUD. And it feels weird to say that. I used to think that the past 4 years has changed me as a person so completely that I would wonder if I was even somebody Jason could love anymore. I’m starting to realize that the core he fell in love with has stayed the same…some aspects of ME are just more accentuated…or more muted. I think that what has changed drastically is my worldview and the ways I choose to interact with that world and the people in it. And I think that links to the self-care I was talking about earlier. My peace, my joy, my happiness, my sense of self-worth, my confidence, my purpose are all very, very hard-fought. I fight a battle daily for each one of those things…some days I’m more successful than others. And there’s nobody here to protect them…except for me.
And now I’m going to wrap up this obscenely long blog post that took me all week to write. Take care of yourselves!
Today should be Jason’s 48th birthday. We should be spending the day together. It’s the perfect day for a Fall hike…or poking around Stillwater. We should be going to dinner tonight with the kids…any restaurant with a good Old Fashioned. After dinner we should be taking the dogs for a walk….somewhere he can catch some Pokemon.
None of that is happening. He’s forever frozen at 43 while the rest of us have the privilege of adding days to our years.
This day is the one that pulls me down hardest every year. I decided to give myself some grace and space this year and spent Sunday to today at a Cabin. I hiked in the woods. Spent hours on the deck watching the birds. Wrote. Was serenaded to sleep by a pair of Great Horned Owls calling to each other….and woke up to them wishing each other “good night”.
And I missed my husband.
I came back home this morning. I had therapy at 1:00 and decided to treat myself to chai from Caribou on the way. I was sitting in the parking lot texting my sister “Bought myself a chai to get through therapy today”. And her response “Jason would have totally bought you that chai so I’m glad you did it for you”. And she was so right. Whenever I was having a bad day Jason knew that Caribou and my hiking shoes were most likely to fix whatever ailed me.
After therapy I wandered around Barnes and Noble for awhile and then went to a park that Jason and I walked at often. I sat on a bench and thought about some of my favorite memories of Jason and times we spent together. These aren’t in any particular order.
—When I first took him camping when we were in college. We forgot the grate to cook the chicken on so we decided to drive somewhere for dinner. Except then the car wouldn’t start and we had to find the camp host to call my parents. They came with the grate to cook the chicken and then hung out at the campfire with us.
—When he surprised me by buying tickets to a Cirque du Soleil show and we went to a fancy steak place for dinner beforehand. As we were walking out of the show we ran into some friends from college and had a few drinks with them.
—When we took a trip to Belize with friends. He was so sick with pneumonia I didn’t even know if we were going to make it until we got on the plane.
—Every time he played tennis and loved it when I would bring the kids to watch. When they were young it was so hard, but he loved it so much I would bring them as often as I could. And then when the kids got older I would go watch him and we would go to Applebees with the team.
—Our evening walks
—Going to Wausau for the Fair and seeing Andy Grammer. His first and only concert. We stopped at Big Falls in Eau Claire on our way home
—The way he would tirelessly play driveway tennis with the kids
—When we took a trip to Charleston for WTT Nationals over my birthday. He sacrificed seeing the pros play to take me on a sunset dolphin cruise.
I really could go on and on. It’s so unfair and heartbreaking that we will never get to make new memories, but we did have so many great ones together. In fact, for him it was a lifetime of great memories.
I met my Sister-in-Law for Old Fashioneds after sitting in the park. I hope Jason was enjoying one with us. Cheers!
Every week when I go to therapy my therapist gives me “homework” for the week. She started out by calling it an “intention for the week”. I hate the work “intention”. I’ve been hurt too many times by too many people who had “good intentions” and use them as an excuse for their behavior…or a pass for the hurt they have caused. Anyway…now we call it “homework”. I always liked school.
Most of the time my homework is some sort of task; however, last week my homework was a little bit different because my birthday was coming up. She just sent me off with “do things that bring you joy”. Sure. OK. Joy is a big, elusive feeling. On a good day sometimes the most I can say when I get in bed is “well, this day didn’t suck so bad”. And now this lady wants me to do “joy”.
So, I tried. I actually had a pretty good week. I downloaded a new app to help me learn how to play piano. Music is important to me and it’s something to do when it’s getting dark outside earlier and earlier. I spent some really good time with friends…hiking in the woods…poking around small town downtowns…going to breakfast…out to Happy Hour…just “being”. My kids surprised me with family time for my birthday. We went out to breakfast and then to an apple orchard. The apples were all high up in the trees, so the picking was a little challenging.
I felt lots of love on my birthday. My coworkers brought donuts in to work and made me a “Happy Birthday” sign. Family and friends texted…called…sent messages. It was a good day. But….Joy? Is it joy?
And then I decided to do something completely out of the norm for me. I went to a very, very small Church this morning because I knew my friend, Olivia was teaching. When I told her that I was planning on coming she was excited, but did warn me that it’s a Church of “misfits and crazies”. That maybe should’ve scared me away…but somehow it attracted me instead… Like maybe this is where the other broken people are.
My friend, LoAnn came with me. We were greeted at the door with “You must be Olivia’s friends” and urged to get a cup of coffee before sitting down. People were friendly and welcoming….coming up to us to say “good morning” and shake our hands without feeling judgy or pushy. There were a few songs and then Olivia got up to do her teaching. And…of course…I’m oversimplifying a bit…but she taught about finding JOY in the present moment. Again with the “joy”.
And all day I have been thinking about that. How do I find joy in the present? My past was filled with joy. I keep thinking of things that maybe I want to do in my future…5+ years from now…that I think maybe will bring me joy. But in this present moment…joy?…nope. What I feel is stuck in a life that was not what I ever wanted. Of course, part of Olivia’s teaching was about trusting in God. Well, I have some trust issues along with my joy issues.
Over Labor Day weekend I took a trip to visit my brother and his family out in Oregon. It was my first time visiting since they moved out there 4 years ago…my first time to Oregon…my first experience of the Pacific Ocean. Definitely won’t be my last.
Oregon spoke to my soul with her towering trees hanging with moss….waterfalls plummeting down from unimaginable heights…rivers rushing by on their way down Mt. Hood…ocean waves crashing on the beach as I stood at the edge of the world looking out into the vastness. So many times all I could do was just pause and give witness to and respect for the beauty and sheer power I was surrounded by.
Making memories with my brother’s family was fantastic. I loved spending a few days with my nephews and niece and getting to know them better. Every time…which was often…I heard one of them say to my brother or SIL “I’m just asking….but when/what are we going to eat?” It just made me chuckle…as if they would ever be allowed to starve! I loved listening to Ben…who is a senior…tell me all the things about different places in Oregon and things he loves to do. He reminds me a lot of my Grandpa. Eli is more introverted…loves music…and some of the things that would come out of his mouth made me laugh so hard, just because they were unexpected. He has a smile that can light up a room…but he makes you work for it. Norah is the youngest and doesn’t let her brothers get away with anything. She is athletic and is really into Ultimate Frisbee…she has quite the throwing arm with that disc. I can’t wait to go back and spend more time with them.
And then, of course, there’s my brother and sister-in-law. I had such a hard time saying goodbye to them. Jason and I always loved spending them with them. When my brother was in college sometimes they would spend a weekend with us so Jason could help him with his programming homework. We visited them many times when they lived in Madison…or they would make the trek to the Twin Cities. One summer we vacationed together up at Rutgers. It was nice reminiscing with them about some of those memories…but also it felt right to make new ones with them.
August 26, 2025. Jason and I so looked forward to this day. Our 25th wedding anniversary….and the day Levi turns 18. This is the year we were going to “reclaim” our anniversary after it had taken the backseat to birthday for 18 years. Instead I moved Levi into his dorm last night and spent the day without my husband or our birthday kid.
I had therapy today and Leah…who I still think of as my new therapist…and I talked about the future quite a bit. Jason and I purposefully had our children when we were young because we wanted to be able to enjoy this “freedom” that started today when all of our children are adults. Instead of that…I just feel loneliness…a void…a lack of purpose. Lots of feeling like I’m just getting through the days…wondering how much longer I have to keep going…and why
Leah suggested that even though this day isn’t the beginning of the new era that Jason and I looked forward to, it could be the start of a different, but exciting era for me. I’m having a hard time finding and keeping hope and belief in that. The 4 year mark a few weeks ago crushed my spirit in a lot of ways.
And I’m not saying my life is miserable. I adore our children and they bring me so much joy. My relationships with family and friends keep getting better and better as I learn where to put my trust. I have good days and smile and laugh…but in my core I am so broken and always will be. Out-of-sync with the world. Never quite fitting.
Even today was an okay day. Lots of people checked up on me…which I really appreciate. I even had a surprise visit at work from my birthday kid. He brought me coffee and gave me a hug. Good thing he’s only 30 minutes away! After work I came home and cooked dinner by myself…worked on a crochet project….talked to my Mom and my Mother-in-Law…texted with friends. And I’m fine…but…
Love, Tennis, and Cancer 