I Missed Him Quietly Today

November 8, 2025.

I missed Jason quietly today. Not sure if I had many moments where I got to feel the sadness of missing him, out loud. But I missed him in the background, he was on my mind all the time.

Wanting to hear his voice, talk about him, be asked about him.

It made me smile when Johnny asked about him and the Notre Dame games.

No one else really says anything, but you can sense maybe just maybe its on their mind too.

I listen to the drama and extra noise around me and it feels so small compared to the beast I am facing.

I watch my grandparents as they fade in their old age. When we got here, my uncle asked if I was surprised at how much they faded. I think to myself nothing will ever be as shocking as watching cancer consume Jason’s body at a rapid pace. They are old, they are supposed to be old, they look old. I think about how they were two years ago and how little in the grand scheme of things they’ve faded in those two years compared to watching cancer steal Jason in a matter of weeks. Nothing remotely compares to that pain. That shock of watching what happened to him. I don’t think anyone here, except my parents, can even imagine or comprehend what that looked and felt like.

I missed him silently today, but I’m never afraid to say his name or share a story about him. I can feel the tears from family as they see and hug me for the first time since losing him.

But no one says anything. It’s silent.

I’m not sure what they should say or do. But I know they are feeling it. It’s heavy, and I sometimes wish someone would break the silence and it didn’t have to be me.

I want someone to say something, anything.

He was mine for 4 entire years of my life. That doesn’t just go away. I missed him silently today but I miss him all the time. He is heavy on my heart as he always is. I never stop thinking about him.

I love you Jason. I really wish you were here with me.