Anytime something significant happens, my first inclination is to tell Matt. Even the mundane things I want to tell him.
Matt - guess what?! Michael Jackson died. You probably knew before we did, though... Strange how people around here seem to be dropping like flies now that you're gone. It's scary. I want to tell my Uncle Frankie to say hi to you and give you a hug for me when he gets to Heaven. A part of me is a little jealous that all these people get to see you now. I don't get to see you anymore, until someday when I die. For Jacob and Sydney's sake, I hope it's not for a very long time; otherwise, it really wouldn't matter to me. I would be so pissed if I didn't get to see you after I die, though... Matt, you would have gotten such a kick out of the kids this morning. They greeted each other with sleepy eyes, so happy to see each other, and were locked in a long embrace, full of smiles. You would be so proud of these kids. I told Jacob the other day (as I do often) that I am the luckiest mommy in the world. He said that I'm not, because my daddy died. I explained to him that you were his daddy, not my daddy - that you're my husband. I explained to him that because he and Sydney are my children, that still makes me the luckiest mommy in the world. I'm an unlucky wife for losing my husband, but was the luckiest wife for almost seven years until then. Matt, the kids and I are moving to California. I'm hoping to move by the end of August so Jacob can start school in time. I want you to come with us. I want you to be with us wherever we are. I wish there was some way I could see you again, or at least just talk to you. I wish I could pick up the phone and dial you and hear your voice on the other end. I wish that more than anything right now. The longing gets worse instead of easier to deal with. Maybe by putting this out there in cyberspace, the message will get to you somehow. I love you, Matt. I love you so much.