I do not want people to know what it is like to love someone so much that they are life and that without them you are left waiting for them so that you can start living again.

Dearest Nathan,

Trump is our 45th president.  Officially.  I know your feelings on this, just as you know mine and thusly I won't bother going into them here.  Instead, I will tell you that I have realized through this election process that people are very flippant when it comes to suicide.  I don't think I was aware or rather I think I was willfully ignorant to the fact that people throw around the word so casually.  Often making light of the subject, easily making jokes about the topic. Things are said like "I can't believe I have to deal with Trump as president for the next four years, I could kill myself."  or "I am having the worst day, I am so done with life." or something happens and people easily and likely often without thinking, place their fingers to their head in the form of a gun and pretend to pull the trigger.

 I didn't see it because I didn't want to see it and I didn't want to believe it was a big deal or maybe I didn't think it was a big deal.  Regardless of the reasoning, it is a big deal.  A huge deal.  And unfortunately I have been forced to reckon myself with the callus nature people have when it comes to this subject.  I have been forced to see and come face to face with the ignorance of others and their ability to say things so casually and without thought and I have had to see it because I lost you in this awful manner.

I don't know that I believe people say these things to be cold or hurtful.  No, actually, I know I don't believe that people are trying to be cruel, but rather they do not understand suicide and they do not understand the pain that the act inflicts on it's survivors or the torture their triggering comments inflict.    They don't know because we are silent about suicide.  We are silent about suicide in the same way that we are silent about mental illness.  We may not be encouraging the stigma around the two, but we aren't doing much to discourage it and the more I think about that, the more I am discouraged and disheartened I become by it.

The saddest part of suicide is it never affects just one person.  In fact, it is statistically proven that suicide affects AT LEAST five people, if not more.  In our case, your death has affected many more than that.  It has left me alone and raising two children.  It has left me missing my very best friend, the love of my life, and my husband.  It has made our two year old little boy cry and question where you have gone and why he can't call or see you.  It has left our almost four month old baby girl fatherless.  It has left your friends in a state of mourning.  It has broken the hearts of your father and siblings and that's unfortunately not all.    It affected your siblings significant others.  Your father's wife.  It affected Cory and even Brittany.  And it affected people like our mutual friends, Lindsey, Tahnya, and Aaron even more than your other friends, because they were left to pick up the pieces of my heart.  They were left to make sure that our home was packed up, your car was fixed and running, and more than that they were left to ensure that I didn't choose to follow behind you.

Your suicide has left a Nathan shaped hole in at least 40 people's lives and unfortunately for me and our children, our Nathan shaped hole can neither be fixed nor healed regardless of where or to whom life takes us.  We are surviving.  We are moving forward.  We are doing many things, but nevertheless we will forever grieve and miss you.  That is our new normal.

I am of course glad that people do not know my pain.   I don't wish this suffering on anyone.  I do not want people to know what it is like to love someone so much that they are life and that without them you are left waiting for them so that you can start living again.  They do not understand and I do not wish them to.  However, this doesn't mean that because they don't understand my pain, that they can make a joke out of it or it's cause either.  Nor does it mean that if they do make light of my pain or it's cause that I will allow it.

It's because of this that I have both easily and without second thought, begun removing people not only from my facebook, but from my life as a whole, people who don't understand why it's neither appropriate nor okay to make jokes or comments about suicide UNLESS you are making a legitimate plea for help.  I guess if nothing else I have, after 30 years and this unspeakable tragedy, found my purpose.  I will preach and harp and speak on suicide and mental illness for the rest of my days.  I will scream about these things from the top of the rooftops and I will demand that people listen.  I will do whatever I have to do to ensure that people realize that suicide is real and that mental illness is wreaking havoc on people that we know and love.  I will do whatever necessary to end the stigma and I will do it in your memory.  I will do it, because if I can save even one person from the suffering that I and our sweet babies are now saddled with, then I will have done something good with your death.

I love you.  I miss you.  Forever.

Always,

Jess

So many feelings, so little time....

Dearest Nathan,

I feel like Willy Wonka when he says so much to see, so little time to do it, except for me it's more like so many feelings, so little time to process them.  A friend of mine came to me recently and told me that two days after you died, he had a dream.  His deceased fiancee was there and told him to tell his neighbor friend (ie: me) that her husband (ie: you) was both so sorry and loved her and the children.  I have no reason to believe he was lying as it's not like he has anything to gain from telling me this.  The whole conversation led me to believe that if you were able to have a do over, that you wouldn't make the same choice.  Granted, I have always believed that.  I have always believed that it was a spur of the moment impulse that you acted on without thinking through all the consequences.  I have always believed that and I always will because not only do I know how much you loved me, I know how much you loved our children and I will NEVER believe that you made the decision to hurt us, to leave us while you were thinking clearly.   However, hearing about this dream did help to give me a bit of peace.  It was the confirmation and sign I had desperately needed.  Unfortunately, it also made me wish that I had a rewind button.  The remote from click.  I'd use it to go back to that night, I'd change everything about that weekend.  I'd do so many things differently.  I'd love you better. I'd appreciate you more.  I'd kiss you harder and I'd hug you tighter.  Sadly, life isn't a movie.  We don't get a do over and I don't have the remote from click.

I can't bring you back.  I can't change the things we did or didn't do.  I can't take back the things we said or say the things I wish we had said.   All I have left are memories and photographs.  I don't have the joy or hope of the future.  I don't have you and I won't again until we are reunited in Heaven. You made your choice and whether others agree with me and think it wasn't a well thought out choice or whether they believe that you premeditated the entire thing, doesn't matter.   It doesn't matter because it doesn't change anything.  Your children and I now live with the consequences of your decision and we carry the pain that was once yours.  I don't fault you for that.  I am not angry with you.  I just miss you.  They miss you.  We miss what was and what should have been and we are learning how to survive without you and it's harder than it looks.

Actually, outside of having to live without you, raise children without you, give up the dreams I had with you, and having to permanently miss you, I think this is the hardest .  Appearing to be better at surviving without you than I actually am.  I am good at filling my days and keeping busy.  I am good at smiling and telling people that I am okay, when they ask me how I am doing.  I am good at saying I have good days and bad days but making it seem like I likely have more good days than bad.  I am good at taking care of the kids and going through the motions.  The zoloft that I am taking likely is a contributing factor in why I am so good at it.

What people don't know, however, is that I still have more bad days than good.  I am just good at keeping it to myself.  People don't see the exhaustion.  They don't see the tears that I cry every night.  They don't see the longing that I feel and the what ifs that run through my head.   They don't see the dreams that I wish could come true or the heartache that I silently carry.  They see the bags under my eyes but I am sure that they likely think it's from being the mom of two babies under three, but really they're from grief.  They see the shell of who I was and the empty smile that I am able to give.  I said once, I don't think I really have happy days, just days that are a little less sad and I still feel that way.  I don't really have good days, just days that are a little less hard.  And that leads me to what I was saying earlier, that's the hardest part.  Watching everyone else's world keep right on going when mine has stopped.

I am not saying people don't still miss you.  I am not saying it's not still hard for them.  I know they miss you.  I know they still have hard days, but I also know that their lives have continued to go on as normal.  They can go more than an hour, probably more than a day without thinking of and wishing for you.  I can't.  I am permanently stuck on November 06, 2016 at 8:04 PM.   Everyone's lives have gone on and mine as seemingly ended.  I miss everything about you.  I miss singing with you while you played the bass.  I miss writing you love letters.  I miss texting you.  I miss the sound of your voice.  I miss what I hoped for.  And I miss what should have been.  I miss everything and I miss it just like I did the night this all happened.  I miss you just as much as I did yesterday and yesterday I missed you just as much as I did November 6, 2016 at 8:04 PM and I think I always will.

I have a sweet friend named, Kayla.  She's slightly younger than me, but has a small child almost a year younger than Sawyer and she lost her husband the same way that I lost you, the only difference was the method.  We have bonded quite a bit and talking to her is one of the things besides our children that helps me through most days.  You'd like her a lot.  She'd have liked you too.  You'd have also have liked her tattoos and I think you would have liked her husband.  We all have so much in common, not just individually but as couples as well.  She summed up my feelings perfectly today when she sent me this quote: "I don't pay attention to the world ending. It has ended for me many times and began again in the morning." I don't think there's anymore explanation than that needed.

Anyway, I am getting tattoos in your honor the weekend after next.  I think you'll like them.  I also think your headstone should come in soon.  I think you'll like it as well and it will be nice for the kids and I to be able to visit and be with you.  It'll be nice to feel close to you again.  Tell Jesus to come back soon, I am ready to be home with he, you, and the kids.  I am ready to feel your arms and even more than that the arms of Jesus around me.


I love you.  I miss you.  Forever.

Always,
Jess

The rest of my days will be Nathan-less, and that is a hard pill to swallow after so many years of it being full of you in one way or another.

Dearest Nathan,

Since you passed away, I have learned more about suicide than I ever thought I would know.   For instance, I know that Arizona has the thirteenth highest suicide rate within the United States.  I know that in our state, suicide is the eighth leading cause of death, and the second highest cause in our age group of between fifteen and thirty four.  I also know that white males are more likely than anyone else to die by suicide and that the use of a firearm accounts for fifty percent of these deaths.  I know things that if I am honest, I never wanted to know but that your death forced me to realize I needed to know.  That everyone should know.

Since you've died I've also been seeing the same post on facebook, shared or posted by various people over and over and over again.  It's one of those copy and paste types that you always rolled your eyes at.  It says:

"My door is always open, the coffee pot is always on and my sofa is always warm and a place of peace and non-judgement. Any of my family and friends who need to chat are welcome anytime. It's no good suffering in silence. I have cold drinks and wine in the fridge...tea & coffee in the cupboard and I will always be here. You are never not welcome!! 

Blue Monday is a name given to a day in January (typically the third Monday of the month) reported to be the most depressing day of the year and January the worst month for suicides, it's always good to talk but even better to listen.This hits closer to home than we think. I'll always lend an ear and a shoulder...and my heart. 

Could at least one friend, please copy and repost (not share)? I'm trying to demonstrate that someone is always listening."💜

I think the post and the people that post it and likely the person that started it mean well.  I also think that in theory it's a wonderful idea.  However, in practice, not so much. First of all. it gives inaccurate information which I think could lull people into a false sense of dangerous security when it comes to their family members and friends.  January isn't the worst month for suicide.  In fact, May is.   Summer months have been statistically proven to have a higher rate for suicide than the winter months.    And Blue Monday?  It's a myth too, founded on nonsensical science.   No one really knows where these myths started but most including myself theorize that it has a lot to do with media, take for instance It's a Wonderful Life the main character contemplates taking his life around the holidays. Another thing perpetuating this, may be that because suicide rates are actually the VERY lowest in December, when they start going back up in January, it makes it seem like the rates must be higher than they actually are.  Personally I think that people assume that all the happy makes those who may be depressed, focus more on loneliness and so much more, but the opposite tends to be true.

Other than the factual inaccuracies, there is the other paragraph too.  It's a sweet gesture.  I know people that post it likely mean what it says too, but I don't think it's doing nearly as much good as they think it is.  People read things on facebook and scroll right on by.  The may read it and scoff at it, they may read it and believe that no one actually means it, or they may read and forget about it.  Heck, they may not even read it.  Many people that die by suicide are mentally ill.  Many, because of the stigma, are ashamed and won't speak up.  Some don't realize they're mentally ill and believe that they can handle whatever it is that they're dealing with.  They believe that they can carry the pain on their own, they don't want to be a burden.  Although I don't believe you planned your death, I do know that you often felt like a burden to people, but you weren't.  Especially to me.  Not even close and I wish you would have seen that.  I also think that you were a true empath and carried the weight of not only your world, but the world of everyone you loved, on your shoulders.  You were a sensitive soul and so bright.  So amazingly bright.  These things were beautiful traits, but traits that I think made you feel and understand things so much more deeply.  Particularly pain.  I would have carried your pain for you.  I would have helped you shoulder all the burdens that you had.  I know that you knew that, you told me that you did and that you were thankful, the trouble is that I think you loved me top much to want me to have to do that.  I also think you thought you could carry it on your own and to be honest, I don't think, had you seen this post on facebook that night, that you would have reached out.   You would have scrolled right passed it and still ended up the same way.  I think there are many things that could have saved you.  So very many things that just didn't happen that night, but I don't believe a facebook post is one of those things.

You and I had such a connection. One that was full of conversation, conversation that was deep and meaningful.  Conversation that included topics like mental illness and even suicide.  Conversation that delved deep into the bible and our beliefs.   We weren't afraid to be open and honest with each other and I still didn't see this coming and what I have had to accept is this: sometimes, there just aren't any signs.   Sometimes, things happen quickly.  Sometimes people make snap irrational decisions in a moment that break our hearts.  Decisions that simply can't be taken back.  These are the faces of suicide and those that are surviving the suicide.  We are the faces, we are the faces who showed and saw no signs.

We are proof that sometimes there aren't any signs to be seen.  That's hard to accept, but even knowing that, I will say this:  that doesn't mean we shouldn't  try and be there, but instead of a facebook post, my suggestion is this: reach out.  Talk to your friends and family often, but don't just talk.  Take the time to truly and fully listen.  Ask uncomfortable questions, dig deep.  Forge friendships and relationships with your family that go beyond the trivial and the mundane.   Always speak in love even when you're not feeling loving.  Realize that love is a choice and not simply a feeling.  Be kind to everyone you meet, even if they aren't being kind to you. Try even when you don't think it will matter.  It will always matter in some way and to someone.  Be kind, be nice, be loving.

Anyway,  beyond that I am so tired.  I am tired of all the posts about people getting married or engaged or having babies.  I am not tired of it because I want people to be unhappy.  I don't.  I am so happy that these people are getting to do all of these amazing things.  I am happy that the people that I love have lives filled with so much excitement and joy, but I am tired of seeing it, because it just further reminds me that not only are you gone, but you are gone and won't be returning. The rest of my days will be Nathan-less and that is such a hard pill to swallow after so many years of it being full of you in one way or another.   I am tired of many more things, but I will spare you and just say that mostly I am tired of missing you.  I am tired of my children missing you.  Especially Sawyer.  He talks about you all the time and it turns out that for as much as he loves me, I am a poor substitute for you.  I don't play with or love him the same way than you did.  That's not to say that I do either of those things less, I just don't do them like you and he needed that.  He still needs that.  He needs you and it breaks my heart that he was jipped of that.  It breaks my heart that our little girl was jipped of having any memories at all.

I am tired and I am still searching for my reprieve.  Unfortunately, the fact of the matter is that my only reprieve would be either a.) being in your arms or b.) hugging you and seeing the face of Jesus when he finally comes back.  The first won't be happening and the second will happen but I have no idea when.  It's another hard pill to swallow.  I grieve for my loss and all that comes with it.  I miss all the memories and moments, but I also miss the things we never did.   The family trips we didn't take. The romantic getaways we didn't share.  The actual wedding that never happened, the honeymoon that never came to be.  I miss conversations we won't have and holding your hand when we're eighty. I was asked today what my dream destination was....my dream destination is anywhere with you, but really my dream destination is simply your arms.

I love you.  I miss you.  Forever.

Always,
Jess

2 months.

Dearest Nathan

It's been two months minus two hours and four minutes. It's been two months since the single worst night of my life and like the song says "Without you, I feel broke like I'm half of a whole without you, I've got no hand to hold. Without you, I feel torn like a sail in a storm, without you, I'm just a sad song, I'm just a sad song".

I don't think many know that in our time alone, we often played music together or rather you played and I sung, it was one of our greatest hobbies and connections and you were one of the few I enjoyed singing with and even occasionally playing piano.

Ironically this was one of both the first and last songs we did together.  In fact in the week before you died I was teaching myself to play it. I never got to show you.

We always said the song fit us. It did. It still does, but now it fits in a different way. A way I never imagined it would.

It's been two months minus two days and four minutes and I still miss you as much as I did the night this happened. Our kids miss you just as much.  Things haven't gotten better or worse really, just different.

We love you. We miss you. Forever.

Always,
Jess


(Written at 6pm)

In memory slide show

I close my eyes and remember everything good and that makes things briefly for a minute, however short or long that minute may actually last.

Dearest Nathan,

Today there are no words.  Today all that there is, is remembrance.  Remembrance that I love you.  There is remembrance and reminders.    Everything is a reminder of our time together.  All of the years of our friendship and our time dating and our time in marriage.  I am reminded of both the good and that bad and I am thankful for all of it.  I am thankful for the good, the bad, and even the ugly.  I am thankful because even when things were messy at least they were with you.  At least you were here. Reminders of all the plans we had that were never able to come to fruition.  I am reminded and I am thankful, but I am also reminded that I miss you.

Today I have no words, but I have exhaustion and longing.  Longing to have you back to hug me and tell me that everything is okay.  Longing to watch you walk in the door after work and tell me how much you missed us.  Longing to realize all the plans that we had and make them happen.  Longing to see your name show up on my phone because you've sent me a text to tell me that you're thinking of and love me.   To have you call me just because you wanted to hear my voice and longing for you to hold me in bed as we fall asleep at the end of the day.    I long to have you help me with the kids, to have you help me manage life when it's all too much to bear.   I long for morning spent praying and enjoying coffee and evenings spent watching friends and long conversation.  More than that I long for all the little things.   All the little things that I never thought would mean everything to me.

I am searching for a reprieve that I don't think I am ever going to find.  I am searching for you, in all the places that I know that you are not.   It's a hard life, the life of a widow because it's nearly impossible to get your heart to accept what you brain knows to be true and because the heart won't accept it, then sometimes it tricks the brain into believing for a moment...often a fleeting moment, but a moment nevertheless that maybe it's made a horrible mistake and what it's been made to believe isn't the truth at all.  Then when it comes back to reality the heart is broken all over again.  The life of a widow is painful and it is hard and it is unfair.  It is long and it is dark and so when I feel like I am alone and lost in the dark I close my eyes and remember everything good and that makes things briefly for a minute, however short or long that minute may actually last.

I love you.  I miss you.  Forever.

Always,

Jess

#endthestigma

Dearest Nathan, 

Well it happened. I got sick. Thankfully not the flu, but anything is bad when you're the single parent to two small babies. I always knew how much you did and even with all my flaws and all the things that probably made me a not so great wife sometimes, I did try to tell you daily that I appreciated you.  I knew how much you did and yet I really had no idea. I took the little things for granted like the way you rubbed my back nearly daily, always asked if I needed you to stop at the store for anything before you came home, told me I looked beautiful even when I actually looked homeless and so much more. I took for granted all the things we expect our spouse to do like help with the kids. I took it for granted and now that I am alone and doing it all by myself, I know that you really were my rock. 

I will survive like I have every single day since you left me. I will cry and I will miss you and I will curse at God before immediately regretting that last one and apologizing. I will survive but I will struggle even more than usual because illness as a single parent really drags you down particularly when coupled with soul crushing despair. 

I think people often assume I'm over it. I'm no longer grieving because I can hold myself together in front of MOST people now, I have some peace about what happened although it's sometimes fleeting, and I've managed to take care of business and do it fairly quickly.  What they don't realize is that I'm not over it. I'm still consumed with grief I've just mastered surviving for the sake of our children. This is something I won't ever really be over. 

Ironically, in the weeks since your death, a campaign has started called End the Stigma.  I had mixed emotions about it for all of ten minutes before realizing that this is exactly what I've been ranting about for nearly two months.   I went back and forth about making my own collage before realizing I had to because I've been harping on stigma for two months minus two days.  How can I scream END THE STIGMA if I'm too scared to practice what I preach, especially since I believe that had mental Illness and suicide not been stigmatized so badly that you would still be here. 

I put the collage below. Some like the migraines (which in my case should actually say ice pick headaches) apply to only me, some apply only to you like the bipolar, and some apply to both of us like the depression.  Some of these that apply to me have come into play since you died, like the insomnia. Some have always been there, others have always been there but are worse now.  Regardless, we should be talking about them. You and I were taking about them but I don't think I let myself accept how much you may have been suffering. I didn't want to see it and honestly I don't think I really thought this would happen. Not to you.  Now, in hindsight, I believe we should have been talking about them more. We should have talked about them too much to anyone who would listen.

Hindsight is always 20/20. 

Anyway, I love you. I miss you. Forever. 

Always,

Jess 

Mourning, noon, and night....

Dearest Nathan,

November 17, 2015:  That was the day I became Mrs. Keener, the day I married my best friend, the man I had loved since high school.  The day I married you.   It was quite easily one of the three happiest days of my life.  We had been praying about marriage since we had begun dating and we decided that day, marriage was exactly where God was leading.  We purchased rings and when Sawyer went to spend time with his dad, we quietly slipped off to the courthouse and said "I do".  We didn't tell anyone, not our families or our best friends.  It was a moment that we wanted for ourselves, we didn't want to share it and we enjoyed the time we had together privately for two weeks before finally letting our families and closest friends in on our secret.   The best decision I ever made was to marry you and it is one that even in grief I will never regret.   November 6, 2016:  The day I became the widow of Mr. Keener.  The day I became the widow of my best friend, the man I had loved since highschool.  The day I became your widow.   That was the day that I gained membership to the crappiest exclusive club in existence.

The club of the widows and widowers.  Nope.  No freaking thank you.  You can just take this membership card right back.  I don't want it.

I am thirty years old.  I have a two year old and a two month old baby, and I had the love of my life by my side until that awful day, and quite frankly I would like to exchange that day in for the years of happiness that you and I had, had planned.  I miss knowing that I was your everything.  I miss knowing that you were the other half of my heart and since I didn't ask for the membership to this club, I should be able to return it and get you back in return.  That is how it SHOULD work, but that is not how it DOES work and there are hardly enough words in the English language to encompass how badly that sucks.

This is by far the worst club that I have ever and one I never dreamed I would join.   I am a widow. Surly that can't be my reality.  I still have days when I can't wrap my head around the title and I can't help but ask myself if there has been some horrible mistake because there is no way that I have had this label attached to my life.    Again, the unfortunate truth is that there hasn't been a mistake and like it or not, that is my title.  I have lived through things that I would never wish on even my worst enemies.  I have taken a phone call where I was forced to go through a list which ranged from organs, to corneas, to skin, and even to a pericardium and decide which could be donated to save other people's lives. I was forced to figuratively and yet very methodically dissected the love of my life, the man who had been my best friend for many years, to a person I had never and likely will never know, whom works at an Arizona donation center.  I had to decide whether you would be cremated or buried.  I had to decide on a headstone.  I had to decide which music would be played, what pictures would be showed, who would be allowed to speak, and what I would say at a service I didn't even want to attend.

I have spent nearly two months laying in bed beside an empty space that will never be filled again.  I have laid there not really getting anything close to decent sleep and praying that I wouldn't completely drown within my grief.    I have had to play the role of both mommy and daddy and hope beyond all hope that they will feel loved enough to compensate for both the instant and the future effects of the profound loss they have suffered.  I have felt like I no longer fit into our small groups, in with our friends, or into the my own life.  And even worse because I was never able to see your body after finding you initially, I have felt what it is like not to feel like you have been able to properly say goodbye.  It is impossibly painful to be forced to say goodbye to your person, the love of your life, your other half, without actually being able to say goodbye, and more than that I have had to ask myself questions I wish that I had never had to ask, like whether you thought you were loved.   If you loved us, and so many more.  I have had to go to social security and tell a stranger that I needed to file for DEATH benefits for my children and I.  I have had to do so many things and will have to do so many more things that I should never have had to do so early in our lives.  Both things I shouldn't have to do because you should be here and things that I should be doing with you

I was also forced to survive the holidays without you this year, most recently New Year.  That probably sounds silly to many people but we believed that who we spent the last day of a year and the first of the next was of the utmost importance. I chose to spend it with Aria, Tahnya, and her sweet babies.  I chose to spend it with them not only because I love them, but because I know that you would approve of the choice.  You would have agreed that they were worthy of sharing my ending and beginning.  I spent it with them, but what I wanted more than anything was to spend it with you. I wanted to kiss you at midnight and snuggle up and fall asleep beside you after the ball dropped.  I wanted to wake up to you at 2017 and discuss and look forward to the future and everything that we wanted to do that year.  I wanted it but I didn't get it.  I cried when the ball dropped and I went to bed alone, just like I had for the previous fifty four days.  I did not wake up next to you and my heart once again felt like it was being yanked from my chest by someone's bare hands.  I did not get anything that I wanted, but I survived it.

I am a suicide widow, and I have met many more like me.  So many more than I ever expected that I would. I can tell you though, that for the most part I have found that the widow, particularly the suicide widow is a beautiful person.  This is because they have walked through more pain and anguish than the average person.  They have suffered through things that should have killed them and yet they managed to survive.   They are beautiful people because grief has taught them how to be.  Grief is a great teacher, possibly the best, but unfortunately it comes at the steepest price.  We are in a permanent state of mourning, but we have been made better in some ways, and we have been broken in others.

I am a widow.  I have to walk into 2017, into a year that you have never been and will never be, and for that I am eternally grieved, but I am these things because I have loved and I have loved much more deeply than most ever will in their life and that is a blessing.

I love you.  I miss you.  Forever.

Always,

Jess