Widowhood is Lonely

I miss Jason. I miss his physical and emotional presence. I miss his touch, what he felt like. What he smelled like. What he looked like. His voice, his laugh. His eyes. His smile. I miss being able to give him the love I am holding and now it has no where to go. I miss the way he loved me and cared for me. I miss being someone’s person. I miss him being my person. Always having someone to talk to, someone who calls to check in just because, every day. The texts while I was out of the house, the calls to say I love you. I miss being his person. I miss kissing him goodnight. Turning over to his side of the bed in the morning to say “I love you, good morning”. I miss the way he’d leave the TV on and the house never felt quiet. The way we’d talk about what’s for dinner. The way he’d come in and check on me when I was finishing up the work day to see what I needed. The way when he was working he’d send me an ‘I love you’ text message. And the way when he was sick at home he’d come to the room to tell me how much he loved me and how hard I worked, how proud he was of me. I miss his car in the garage. Him using all his tools. I miss his silly trips to the grocery store where he’d come home and I’d say “oh my gosh, what did you buy this time”. I miss all the small simple moments that made up our life together.

I miss the way he’d look at me, so in love. The way he’d hold me tight. I miss his hands on my body. The way he’d run his hands through my hair. I miss running my hands through his hair. I miss holding him. I miss lying next to him. I thought that we’d be doing that for the rest of our lives. That I was so lucky to have found this perfect person that was mine for forever. A man who made every single moment easy and special.

I miss how he’d smile when he’d tell me I was beautiful. The way his eyes would light up when he looked at me. The way he’d smile when I looked at him, amazed that he was mine. I miss how much he cared about me. I miss having someone to care about and for. I miss the jokes, the laughter, the silliness. I miss the way he’d walk into the bedroom to find something from the closet to wear. I miss the way he’d fart in the living room and look around like who was that. I miss the way we’d watch tv together in the evenings. I miss the way we’d lay in bed with Nora in between us and just simply exist next to each other. I miss my partner. I miss my dreamer. I miss my doer. I miss the second hand around the house. I miss my handyman. I miss Nora’s dad. I miss watching him play with her, love her. I miss him loving how I loved her. I miss the date nights, the rides in the cars to get take out.

I miss the way he’d pack up the car to get ready to head to the mountains. The routine we had, I’d pack the stuff, he’d pack the car and gear. I miss the way he’d help me squeeze into my ski boots. The way he’d carry my skis even though I was perfectly capable of doing it myself. I miss the way he’d hold my hand when he drive. The way he looked at me as we drove, his eyes beaming with love. I miss stopping for him to get a snack, even when I asked him about packing snacks before we left. I miss his silly eating habits and favorite funny snacks.

I miss what it’s like to hear him say I love you. I miss his silly nosies he’d make talking to Nora. I miss his goofy faces, his funny jokes. The way he’d make me laugh, no matter what. I miss the way he’d hug me, and it would change the trajectory of my day. I miss the way it felt to hold onto his strong shoulders. I miss the way he’d kiss me when he’d walk in the door. I miss the way we would kiss and say I love you anytime either of us left the house. I miss the way we’d help each other pick out nice outfits for any occasion. The way we’d compliment each other. I miss being told I love you by the person that mattered most in this world.

I miss watching him with my mom and dad. I miss our Sunday dinners at their home. I miss the way he’d tell them thank you. I miss the way he’d play with Charlie when we got to their house. I miss the way he’d say “Meg!!” to my sister, every time I had her on face time. I miss him sitting next to me at the dinner table. I miss him driving us around. I miss the way we’d talk about our future as we drove to my parents, admiring the views on Lookout Rd. I miss the way he’d say how lucky he was to find me and my family. The way he would tell me this was everything he dreamed of. I miss the way we’d talk about how we couldn't wait to make this drive with our kids one day. I miss the way he would always tell me it reminded him of visiting his grandparents.

I miss the way that he was mine. All mine. My world. My dreams. My person. I miss the way that I was his everything. The way he made it so clear, I was his world. His dreams. His person. All his.

I miss it all. So many things that I can’t even find the words for. Every single little thing that made up us. We are not meant to be alone. Especially not after being so used to having your person, best friend, husband, lover, around all the time. We only got four years of those things when we were supposed to get a life time. I have so much love I miss giving and so much love I miss receiving.

This isn’t natural. This isn’t fair.