HoneyNine.com Story

My wedding day: 'I wore my rings from my marriage to my late husband'

When Jessica Ayers was preparing to marry her husband, Don Hogg, she had a rather unusual request.

“I said, ‘How would you feel if I wore my wedding rings to Justin on my other hand on the wedding day?’,” Ayers told 9Honey.

Justin – Jessica’s first husband – had died four years before.

“Justin was my first love, I was with him since I was 14,” Ayers explains. “And Don’s very supportive of that.

“I was worried he was going to be mad about it, but he said, ‘I think that’s a great idea – that’s very sentimental’.

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Love What Matters—I Love Both of My Rings, Decades Apart

“For my September wedding last year, I did something atypical. I put on not one, but two sets of wedding rings—one on my right hand (from my first marriage) and one on my left. In case you might think I’m some sort of psycho who is still in love with her first husband, you could be right. But let me back up a bit because it isn’t what you might think. It’s not like my first husband is happily remarried with kids or living a scandalous bachelor life. I’m not holding on to some hope of us getting back together one day. Why? Because I didn’t actually take our wedding rings off by choice—I took them off because he died.

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Finding Friendship Amongst Tragedy

Love What Matters Essay

I have a new story up on Love What Matters. This one is a little different than usual. Instead of exploring my relationship with Justin, or Don, it explores the bond that was formed between Justin’s little Cousin, Shelby, and I. She and I went through very different, yet similar experiences after both witnessing Justin’s murder. In the end, it was the love we found in one another, amongst so much heartbreak that gave me a sister.

Read the full story below.

“I’ve always heard that some of the strongest bonds can form through tragedy. I never realized how true this statement was until I experienced it for myself. My husband Justin was killed five years ago, and not a second goes by that I’m not haunted by the circumstances that took his life. A stray bullet with a probability of one in infinity somehow managed to kill him on impact, three days after I delivered our son. I not only lost my husband of 10 years (who was also my high school sweetheart), I also had to bear witness to his death.

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Love What Matters Story

I've recently been published on Love What Matters— a website devoted to sharing inspiring stories of love and loss.

If you already follow my blog, you know my story by now. But for this article, I dove a little deeper into the foundation of my relationship with Don, and with Justin. Check it out…..

‘I gave birth, my life was complete. 3 days later, a stray bullet crashed through our window, striking my husband.’ Widow finds love after loss with old friend, hopes her son knows how ‘truly loved’ he is by ‘both of his dads’

“Five years ago, my husband Justin and I were waist deep in OB-GYN appointments, baby books, baby names, and nursery colors. ‘I don’t like the typical blue,’ he said. ‘Let’s go less traditional.’ ‘How about lime green and black?,’ I suggested. Picking nursery colors might not be a big deal to a guy, but to an expecting mother, it’s crucial. ‘Sure, that sounds cool,’ he responded, and with that, we began designing our baby’s future nursery.

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Our Precious Pre-K Graduate

Dear Justin:

I watched our son graduate from pre-k last week and I couldn’t stop the tears. Jax is growing up so fast and losing your baby is hard for any mother to grasp. But the main reason I cried was for you. It’s almost been five years and I am still heartbroken over everything you have missed, and everything you will miss.

People often speak of heaven in an attempt to reassure me that you are happier there, watching us from above. I get it, and I understand where they are coming from, but to that, I say, “It’s not the same!” I want to see your face as you laugh at our son’s witty sense of humor. I want to high five you after he reads an entire Dr. Seuss book aloud. I want to tell you about the adorable thing he said while you were at work. I want you to hold me at the end of a rough parenting day and reassure me that I’m a good mom. I want you to be here because you deserve to be here. It’s not fair that someone else took your life.

Jax received the “snickerdoodle” award in his class this year and all I could think about was you. Out of 30 kids in his grade, he (and his bestie) were the two that made everyone giggle. We all know how hilarious I am but I have to give credit where credit is due—he got this one from you.

You’d be thrilled to know that your son is obsessed with Mario Bros. He likes Mario Kart, okay but it’s Mario Bros. that he wants to play day and night. You would be super proud of me for abstaining from using any foul language while we play together. Even when he accidentally resets the game before we can save it, and we lose all of our progress. I fully resist the urge to yell, “turtle xxxx”(inside joke).

Jax is fixing to turn five and that also means you are fixing to be gone for five whole years. I still think of you and I still hurt for you every single day. We talk about you every single day. Jax has a new daddy in his life who loves him to pieces, but we will never stop talking about you. Don is amazing with him and Jax is overjoyed to call him daddy. It wasn’t a decision that I took lightly but it’s one I will never regret. I want you to know that we are doing good. Some days are less painful than others but no days are painless.

To almost everyone, our year resets on January 1st. But, for me, it starts over on June 17th; the day you took your last breath. I’m older than you were when you died and I can’t help but feel confused about that. You will forever be frozen in time at 33-years-young.

I read a book recently that talked about the knowledge one gains from experiencing such a deep level of grief. It stated that we gain a perspective on life that others don’t have. I have to say, I agree. My grief has made me smarter and even better in some ways. But the piece of me that broke off when you died will never grow back. I am certain that twenty years from now, I will still hurt for you, just like the day you died—my 31-year-old heart will never stop beating for you.

If you can see us from above, I hope we make you proud. And I hope you won’t get angry with me for letting your son listen to 90s hip hop—you know it’s my guilty pleasure. Don’t worry, he loves his Rock N Roll with AC/DC and Queen being two of his favorites.

From the bottom of my heart, we miss you!

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