Kerr,
I logged on and was genuinely shocked I haven’t written to you in a whole year! I’ve thought about it, but I don’t know what to say. I used to fill you in on life… what’s become of mine and your kids’ lives and such since you left, but then it just felt too sad after Simon died. I still have new things in my life and in the girls’, but it just sort of seems silly … like making small talk and discussing the weather (although! It is my least favorite kind right now - dreary and wet). The only thing I can think to tell you which carries the same kind of weight as death is that of Marlow’s. What a whirlwind. The first week of February to august 21st. So damn quick and awful and unfair. 3 months for him and 10 years for you. But I imagine you know that. I still imagine you all together at Bubby and Papa’s house. I told you that’s how I picture Heaven, right? You’re all at Bubby and Papa’s. The familiar holiday scene… kitchen table, dining table, yelling, serving, and now Marlow is using his wrench to open the pop. I guess Simon is getting to experience it all since he hadn’t before, and Allan, too. Did he ever experience a holiday at Bubby and Papa’s? I know they were certainly alive and well together, but I don’t know if he ever went there for one. Maybe my idea of heaven is a childhood memory (I can actually remember) and one that felt good, and wholesome, and solid. Maybe it’s my brain’s way of trying to bring me some kind of theoretical peace amongst this super fucked up reality. Bubby, Papa, Allan, Uncle Aaron, You, Simon, Marlow… the list is far too long. And now it’s been a decade without you. Truth is, it’s not easier; it’s harder. Sure, you get more used to it (although sometimes I do go to call you), but it’s just the norm now. But the norm isn’t easy. It’s awful and difficult and sometimes near impossible to live without you and without Simon. My life continues, a lot of amazing things do continue to happen, but you and him… you’re not there to share it with. The truth pops up in every moment of joy or happiness - how would this be different if… I was cuddling with Kenna and Dakota on the couch tonight (Harley was in bed already) and I said - do you know who would’ve just loved you so much? And Kenna said, with a smile, Simey. I said yes! And he did, he knew you! But who else? And she said, Aunt Kerry. She didn’t get to know us. It’s true. You never got to know my kids. Or see your boys as their big cousins. Simon was so freaking good with them. So proud. So capable. And you’ve would’ve spoiled them rotten. I told mom I could hear it … a few years from now one of them would yell - you’re horrible! I’m going to live at aunt Kerry’s. It would’ve happened. They would’ve known you were the best and you would’ve been their happy place. Oh how they’ve been robbed. Of you and of Simy.
I always said I’d never be able to live if I lost one of the boys. I’m managing … my grief and my will coexist. I live for those boys and for my girls, for Mac, for mom and dad, for our family, and for my clients. I do love what I do, I do love my friends, I do love our family. I just wish, so deeply and terribly and desperately with all I have that I could have you and Simy back.
I cannot believe it’s been 10 years. Although, it feels like forever - 10 years without you is forever.
Goodness do I love and miss you.
XO
Me
