Homeschooling (and then some!): One year later

Friday, October 25, 2013

One year later

Dear Josh,

It seems so hard to believe you’ve been gone for an entire year already. What a horrible, confusing mess of emotions this past year has been. Over time, emotions that were raw and consuming and red hot have mellowed into acceptance and loss and sadness. And while I still have moments, unexpected moments that hit me out of nowhere like a fist, moments that break through my defenses and rip open the scars to make me remember my brother is dead, the good days now outnumber the bad. And while the good days are such a blessing, even on the best days the weight of your loss is always there; your absence something we carry around with us every single day. Something we’ll carry with us for the rest of our lives.

You told me once, another lifetime ago now it seems, that if anything were ever to happen to you that you’d want me to take care of Jordyn. Over the past year I have felt like a warrior waging a battle, like the last thing I can do for you is to fight for your daughter. Some days I'm angry at you for leaving her, for putting me in this position. Some days I hope her mother wins, so I can have my old life back. Some days I am consumed by my love for her; a love so fierce I can’t imagine what we would do without her. But mostly I grieve. I grieve for a father that loved his daughter so very much, and a daughter too young to even realize her loss. A loss that is the most profound loss of all. A daughter who, although she doesn't remember him anymore, will long for him for the rest of her life.

So I’ll do everything I can for her. I’ll fight for her, always, whether she stays with me or not. I’ll keep showing her your pictures. I’ll tell her stories about you. I’ll tell her she looks like her daddy when she makes the silly faces that remind me of you when you were a little kid; faces that bring me joy and sorrow both at the same time. I’ll tell her over and over how very much you loved her. Through your family your daughter will know you. We will keep your memory alive. Always.