4 years – 48 months – 208 weeks – 1,461 days – 35,064 hours – 2,103,840 minutes

The numbers only increase from there if you calculate the seconds, milliseconds, and so on. Needless to say, there has not been one moment where I haven’t thought of Jason or missed his presence on this planet. It is shocking how fast time has passed, and yet, at the same time, it feels like a completely different lifetime when we were last together. 

From the time we started dating until he passed, we had spent a little over 28 years together. In that time, we grew up, learned how to be functioning adults, became parents, established our careers, became uncle and aunt 5 times, deepened friendships, and so much more. It was a beautiful “dance” that we shared. Knowing now how his story ended on this earth, I would not have traded any part of that adventure. It has helped to form who I am today and who my daughter is becoming.

I know that there are pieces of me that echo the person I was before July 7, 2021, yet most days, she is not visible. In place of the volume 1 version of me is this stronger, bolder, vulnerable, and more emotionally available volume 2 version. This Volume 2 version is healthier because I now know the importance of taking care of my mental, emotional, and spiritual health. I can feel the impact that spending time with my Heavenly Father has on the outcome of my day. I understand the impact of seeking counsel from Christian health professionals who point me to scripture and allow me to talk through life situations. I also treasure time with my people on a deeper level. I now appreciate the face-to-face interactions in a way that the volume 1 version of me took for granted.

There is a void, a chasm that spans the distance between Jason and me. As I read through my journals from when he was in the hospital, I realize that I felt that void then, but did not know how to describe it or fully understand what was happening. I was focused on the fight and keeping faith. I did not want to “give up” ground even in the slightest. The truth is, I can read the words I wrote four years ago, and I feel the pain, the grief, and the hurt that I wrote; yet, I can also feel the hope, faith, and trust that I put in my Heavenly Father to work through that season. Did it turn out the way I hoped it would? NO! Have good things come through my journey in widowhood and grief? YES! So, on this 4th anniversary of Jason’s ultimate healing, I have listed out some of the things I have done that the volume 1 version of me would have never even agreed to do! Enjoy!

• I have moved more times than I wish to admit
• Started writing and sharing my journey on a public platform
• Recorded and published a podcast with a great friend
• Changed jobs, one planned and one not.
• Jumped out of a plane…with a parachute, of course!
• Traveled and met some incredible people.
• Tried a plethora of new foods and realized that I have been missing out!
• Perfected my grilling skills and tried new recipes… my Dad would be proud.
• Documented milestone moments and memories with some beautiful tattoos.
• Learned more about life and how I fit in this version without Jason by my side.
• Loved others in a way I never thought would be possible. 

Jason, in your 16,695 days on this earth, you managed to make a lasting impression on so many people. Your wisdom, your humor, and your smile will live on in the memories of those you held close, especially Abby and me. Your wealth of knowledge that you passed on to those you mentored in your craft lives on in the work they still do today.  All the clients you helped, well, they still remember you, too! Most people saw you as a quiet and reserved person who spoke into situations at just the right time. While Abby and I saw that side of you, we also saw the real you. The one who had multiple lists on your phone of funny quotes by Abby. The one who loved to play video games. And, as much as you complained, I know you treasured our road trips because they meant uninterrupted time with your girls. Those are the moments that I choose to relive and focus on; the ones that bring joy and a smile to my face. I hope you knew how loved you were!

In the 4 years/48 months/208 weeks/1,461 days/35,064 hours/2,103,840 minutes that have passed, I can honestly say there hasn’t been one timeframe where you haven’t been missed. Your memory is alive and well! Abby and I talk about you, we laugh at things you would have enjoyed, and we even try to come up with some smart comment that you would have said. You would be proud of Abby. She is becoming more like you every day. She may always look like me and be a little sassy like me, but the rest of her is all Jason Stewart. She is the best gift you ever gave me, and I am forever grateful that she is a living legacy. She is a living piece of you that carries your memory on for the next generation. I will always love my “son of a preacher man.” Thank you for the best 28 years and for helping me understand the love of my Heavenly Father in a way that I will cherish forever. I love you boo!

Death, grief, and loss shape a person in ways that are difficult to explain. I wasn’t completely aware until Jason passed away. Losing your spouse leaves you fully dependent on your Heavenly Father. I can say that He has sustained me, He has provided for me, and He has truly been good, even when life hasn’t. I know without a shadow of a doubt that He is faithful. I also know He still has more life for me to live, a purpose for this volume of my life, and a plan that is filled with blessings, joy, and restoration. He is a God who heals, restores, and refreshes. 

I will never forget the days that preceded July 7, 2021, nor will I forget that day. The morning was beautiful. The sunrise was spectacular. The peace that flooded the room, and the words that echoed in my heart that still hold true today: 

“We will never forget them, nor the last time we saw them, this morning, as they prepared for their journey and waved goodbye and ‘slipped the surly bonds of earth’ to ‘touch the face of God.’” Ronald Reagan. 

I am not sure why it was this quote, but I remember the day I last saw him, spoke with him, and held his hand. July 7 was the day he slipped the surly bonds of earth and saw the face of God. I am so thankful that one day we will be reunited and I will see his healed, whole, and healthy body again. Until then, I will carry the memories, honor his legacy, and tell all the funny stories to keep his memory alive.