I was able to go to Boise last week to visit family. It was nice to see my kids doing things with cousins, and getting lost in the fun they were having. I found myself enjoying so much of it, but also dreading the inevitable, that I would have to come home to our home that was missing one very important person. It’s haunting. 

There are so many decisions to be made and it’s not getting any easier.  

Losing someone to jail is an odd thing. It almost feels like the person has died.  I have to keep reminding myself that he will come home. Our home is still full of the same things. Our bedroom still has all of our things mixed together and there are reminders of Taylor everywhere. Of course there are… I am glad there are, but that in and of itself is painful. I feel for people who have lost a spouse. Sometimes I wonder if that would be easier. I’m so grateful that’s not the case, but the mind goes there. 

As I have started to try to  fill in the holes that have been left behind by his absence I have become keenly aware of how impossible that is. It’s impossible to make things be just as they were. There are some roles I will have to fill, but I could never do what only fathers can do. I miss his red diesel truck pulling up the drive. I miss his good advice and the long chats we would have while I was finishing up whatever thing I was doing. I miss Friday night date nights and walking up and down our neighborhood street. I miss him wrestling the little boys and taking the kids out on boat rides. I miss splitting up who is going to take who to sports or scouting events. I miss his presence.  It’s just not the same. I miss my friend and my love. I miss the times he would step in with the kids, and give that fatherly advice or lay down the law…he did such a good job at that. I have mainly been the disciplinarian in our home, but he steps in when the dad’s solid voice is what is needed. I miss that. None of that can be replaced by me. 

This journey isn’t unique to us. It’s a good thing to get a glimpse into this part of the human experience. I realize that the way I look at our situation and the injustices I see isn’t unique to me or history either. And, what I see is not what my neighbor sees. Who tells the story and who decides who was on the right or the wrong side?  Does it even matter? Does it justify some sort of pride that you have or does that pride just crumble away anyways? It’s all so messy.

I wonder where this will take us. What new things await to be learned. I know we will do it and we will come out better for it. 

It’s good to feel and it’s so good to be alive. I thank God for all that I do have. I thank God that Taylor is alive and I know that he is making the best of the situation…he’s like that. 

Our family dog passed away Christmas Eve- I feel like I’m living the lyrics to the most pitiful country song… Can you hear it?…My dog died on Christmas Eve, my husbands in jail, what else!

It’s so sad, that it’s kind of funny. My goodness!!