Tuesday, April 22, 2014

I Found a New Way to Miss You

Dear John,
 
I've found a new way to miss you. I thought I'd hit all of them, but I was wrong.
 
I'm finishing up my last week at this job - training Lora and trying to finish a couple of big long-term projects before I go. And I'm looking ahead at starting my new job on Monday - something different from anything I've ever done, and full-time for the first time in twenty years. And this makes me miss you.
 
It's hard to explain in words what it is about you that I'm missing right now. You were always my best cheerleader and encourager, and that's part of it. You had my back, and that's another part. I think what I'm really missing, though, is that you always had more faith in me than I had in myself. And my self-confidence has taken quite a hit since my head injury in the accident in 2011. I'd never doubted my mental abilities before that. I hadn't recovered from it when you got sick, then I got widow-brain. This job has hurt my self-confidence, too, but that's getting better since I realized that there's nothing wrong with me - I just don't have the right kind of mind for it. You could have told me that two years ago; it's taken me a lot longer to figure it out on my own.
 
So I'm feeling a bit lost and vulnerable right now, which is to be expected. At times like this, you were always here to encourage me, cheer me on, and be my reality check. It isn't easy to get by without your faith in me and having you here to be proud of me. Right now Stevie Nicks is singing about what I had and what I've lost, and that sums it up. I'm missing that part of you, of our relationship, that braced me for dealing with the outside world. It's part of what I've had and I've lost.
 
Now Stevie is asking, "Can I sail through the changing ocean tide? Can I handle the seasons of my life?" It seems that I am doing those things. And that is good. This new job is a gift. I'm ready for it. And it's much better-suited to my mind. This change is right for me. I remember before you died, you told me that you'd always been proud of me, of everything I'd done. I'll make you proud of me this time, too. No, that's wrong - you're already proud of me. Thank you for that. Thank you for listening tonight and making me feel better. I know you still have my back.
 
Adore you,
Joan.

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