Dear PJ,

I hate dreaming about you. Last night I dreamt I was in your house for the first time since you died… Your bags from the hospital were still unpacked and sitting on the floor. It was like the place was frozen in sadness…missing you. I was asked to house sit once again…and normally I would stay in the room you shared with your wife…but this time, everything felt so empty.

That’s when I woke up…I literally sat up in my bed, confused…unable to recall where I was. Took a little more than a minute to calm my heart rate and recognize that I was safe…in my home…and then I remembered…that you are gone.

I still haven’t been back to church but I’ve been thinking about it for awhile. I almost went last Sunday…but I chickened out. I might actually follow through with it this week. I’m not looking forward to it. We’re approaching two months without you. Sometimes it feels like years…other times it feels like yesterday.

And like your house…I feel slightly empty without you in my life.


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