Judson's Legacy


My days are getting much harder; the realities of Judson’s absence are settling like sediment in my soul.  The pain and heaviness are thick.  It often feels hard to breathe, much less function.

I miss Jud.  With every ounce of my being, I miss Jud.  I desperately long for one more touch: to hold his frail frame again, to feel his soft skin, to see his chest rise and fall with each breath, to stroke his hair, to whisper my love in his ear, to play with his toes, to rub his warm tummy, to kiss his beautiful face.

I weep.  I sob.  I whimper.  I howl.  I wail.  I groan.  I bawl.  I sigh.  I cry.

I break down numerous times throughout the day, hoping for reprieve from the agony of his death, but this searing pain is here for the long haul.

Then, I realize, the depths of my grief reflect the depths of devotion to my Jud.

Oh, the depths of my love…oh, the depths of my pain!

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