I'm the one who plants the seeds.
I get to implant his father’s past into his future. I enjoy sharing the talent, and the traits that made his dad so unique. He likes hearing about daddy, and when he’s older, he’ll only enjoy it even more.
I'm the one who makes special occasions —special.
The good and the bad occasions are mine. The ones I’d like to forget yet also have no choice but to remember. They are the excuse, the blame, and the reason why we have an opportunity to remember him that day.
I'm the one who gets to raise his legacy.
Jax has his smile, sense of humor, and he shares his passion for life. His laugh is starting to sound like Justin. His face is changing every day. His hair is not red, but it feels the same in my hands. His legs are taking shape and he’s even picking up the “Ayers Stride” when he walks.
I'm the one who knows his deepest darkest secrets.
I remember both the good and the bad. I can look back on a day when we argued and laugh because I know I was right. I can look back on a day when we fought and smile because I know he was right. I cherish the smiles and the tears.
I'm the one who makes the most of the days.
I know they are passing quickly. I know that we are not promised another. I know how precious life is, and I will teach his son this motto. He will know how short his dad’s life was — too short. But he will also know how full it was.
I'm the one who gets the privilege and the curse of being his widow.
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