I never really talk to you. I know that you can't hear me. I think of you daily though. I wish I could at least email you or something, but you are gone. Today, you would have been 42 years old, but you never made it to 39. I guess you didn't make it and see a lot of things. I think that's why today is harder than the past couple of birthdays you missed.
Do you know how hard it is to be a single mom to teenage boys? I guess you don't because you're gone now. They both really could have used their dad over the past year. They've needed you since the day you passed. I hope that I'm not screwing them up. I guess I'll find out when they move out.
Do you know how hard it is to wonder if I am screwing them up though? Would I still worry about this if you were here to help? I guess I can't know these things because you are gone.
Bowen turned 15 on Saturday. I did NOT handle that well. He's taller than me now, but I can still see his chubby baby face through what's visible to anyone else. But I look at him through his mothers' eyes. He's growing into a dedicated athlete. I'm sure you always knew that would be the case. At least I can say that I haven't screwed that part up, yet. And he's just gorgeous. Honestly, gorgeous. I just can't tell him that.
AJ is still brilliant and defiant. I wonder if he's become more defiant because you are gone. There's also no way of knowing. He's still a little boy in so many ways, but he's matured, too. He's got a wonderful sense of humor and has started to come out of his shell. In some ways, he's busted out of it guns ablaze'. He has even twerked for me twice in the past month! I wish you could have seen it. I can still hear your laugh. Sometimes, I imagine that you did see things, just so that I can imagine your big laugh.
You should see the house, baby. As strange as it is to mention Kyle to you, I know that you wouldn't have wanted me to be lonely. He has loved this house, too. He's made it so beautiful. I think the work on the outside of the house will be done this week. He also loves your boys. He is good to them, too. It's weird to say this, too, but I wish you could have met each other. Not that it's an option, because you are gone.
I know that not all of your birthdays will be this bad. This one just really sucks. I am trying to stay busy. I don't even have to try. I am just busy! But busy can't take away the memory of you, no matter how hard I try. I still love you. I'm sorry that you couldn't celebrate 42.
Your grieving wife,
Jessica (because you refused to call me Jess)
