I physically feel twenty but both mentally and emotionally I feel ninety five

Dearest Nathan,

I have started and restarted this one thousand times, but today I am tired.  No, I am exhausted. The kids woke up in revolving intervals last night and I was reminded why God created the family unit the way he did.  We aren't meant to be single parents and we certainly aren't meant to be a single parent to multiple children.  I desperately wished for you last night.  I desperately wished for you to hold Aria-Lyn or to comfort Sawyer, but once again, when I reached out for you I was met with emptiness. The job of parenting and everything that comes with it now completely and entirely rests on my shoulders. You are no longer here to take over when I am overwhelmed and that is a hard pill to swallow, but even harder to swallow is the fact that you were so excited to be a parent and you are missing out on so many moments that I know you would have loved.  

Yes, I am exhausted and I think it has taken a toll on my words.

I took our kids to see Santa, I have answered 100 texts, and I went to look at the house again. Despite my grief and the exhaustion it has brought on, I have gone through the motions today the same way I have since the night I lost you.   Mostly I have done it for you because I think that you would want me to ensure that our babies have a good Christmas in spite of everything and so a good Christmas they will have despite the dread it brings me personally.  Speaking of Christmas, I spent the better part of a week trying to figure out what I thought you would want me to have.  I finally decided that instead of getting something that I didn't need, I would buy the woman who lost her husband three days ago in the same manner that I lost you, a fingerprint necklace, and I would do it in your honor.  I think you would love that, you always had a heart for people, the broken and the suffering in particular.    Aside from all of that, Andrew invited me to go to the movies today with he and some friends, I wasn't able to go because my baby sitter was sick, but I think you'd be pleased that so many of your friends are ensuring that we aren't forgotten.

Other than dreading Christmas, I am also dreading my birthday.  Thirty.  A milestone.   I am not worried about the age itself.  It's just a number after all. And in truth, I physically feel twenty but both mentally and emotionally I feel ninety five.  No, I am not bothered by the number itself.   It's simply that this is my first birthday without you, I don't feel I have much to celebrate this year and frankly, when I pictured my thirtieth year, it did not include being a lonely widow with two children under the age of three.  No, quite the opposite.  I pictured this birthday and all those following to be full of life, laughter, and most of all you.  I've said this many times recently, but life is not fair and mine has been altered in such a profound way that I was never prepared for and quite frankly it's hard to contend with that and thus it is hard to contend with turning thirty

I have had many people offer to celebrate with me and so I will attempt to enjoy the day, but for the most part, I will just miss you.  You made holidays and birthdays so special.


I love you.  I miss you.  Forever.

Jess