Left behind

After Jason lost his mother, Pam, he allowed me to share the words he sent to family and friends telling them of the loss. With so many people wondering how my husband is, I asked if I could again share his words and his feelings. Below is the letter Jason sent outon May 31st, the day we lost his dad, Scotty.


Well, it's mighty late at night (for us old people anyway - it is only 10:00 after all), but I guess after my day, I'm allowed to be pretty exhausted. I have more news.

It's been three weeks since I lost my mother. I've been dealing with a lot of crazy, albeit common, emotions. Some anxiety. Some depression. Some confusion. It's been a mixed bag. But I've started to heal a little bit. Things have finally started to look up. So, imagine my shock when three weeks to the day of my mother's death, I receive word that my father has only weeks to live. Imagine my dismay when I get a call at 3:45 the following morning and arrive at the hospital at 4:15 to stare at my father's unblinking eyes, his peaceful state piercing my heart to the core.

That's probably a little overdramatic, but I just don't know that I care at this point. 22 days after I lost my mother, my father has now been taken from me as well, and it's safe to say that I'm in a state of shock. I don't know what to do, what to feel, what to say. I can't even cry because all I feel is anger. I really don't know why this had to happen. They were just there a month ago. Now, they're gone.

Isn't my dad supposed to pull Coen and Ravenna and Lily onto his lap so he can read them a story? Isn't he supposed to sneak them candy when I'm not looking? Isn't he supposed to teach them how to swing a golf club like the pros? Isn't he supposed to be there to see his grandkids do all the things that I did? Isn't he supposed to stand by me and smile and laugh when the kids are acting crazy? Why can't I have that?

But that's all I'm left with right now, just questions. My dad was a good man. My mother was a good woman. I accepted my mother's death, something I had grown "ready for" over the course of 30 years as her disease ravaged her body. But my father was supposed to be there for me because she couldn't be. And now he's gone too. Why? Just another unanswered question, I guess. Something else I'll have to learn to live with. But it's not right. And it's not fair.

My father always told me life wasn't fair, but I refused to believe him. Maybe he was right. I thought we had more time together. I didn't get to say the proper goodbyes to him as I did with my mother. My father was moved from ICU with an estimated one to two months left. Twelve hours later, he was gone. Please don't wait to say tomorrow what you feel today. You don't know what tomorrow will bring.

My love to all. -Jason