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All of the feelings to do with grief…

I like them.
I know, that may be a little surprising.
I welcome them. I allow them. I even kind of love them.
Because they help me feel closer to Jason.
And I like that.
Therefore, I want all the feelings. Even when they are negative or hard.

I want them because of all that is wrapped up in them.
The great times. The funny times. The closeness. The love. The laughs. The friendship. The parenting. The teamwork. The faith. The stories. The goals. The jokes. The ballgames. The shows. The family. The hope.

But also the hard things. The stuff we didn’t like.
The times I didn’t love him. The times he was selfish. And I was selfish. The times we argued. The times we felt far away. The times I didn’t want to be intimate. The caregiving. The scraping by. The faith just out of reach. The wondering if he would live. If I would live. The medicine and procedures and home health and hospitals. The lifting. The pulling and pushing. The sad. The heavy. The “it’s too much.”

All of it is wrapped up together in a messy package. An overstuffed duffel bag called, “My Life with Jason” that I throw over my shoulder and contentedly carry with me.

Because I miss the whole package.
The good stuff definitely shines through. Twinkling brightly amid the dark areas. But dark and light still represent who we were. Both. All of it.
That’s just how real life works.

So, I miss the whole package.
I miss the little things. The moments and minutes. But really, I want it all. Every feeling.

Because I like feeling the whole him.
Light. Dark. Bright. Dim.
Perfect times. Terrible times.
I like the whole us. 💙✊🏻

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