I’m so unbelievably thankful for my husband. I don’t know how I would do this without him. He is alway by my side, never complaining, ready to do whatever I need. Caregivers have a horribly difficult job, and they deserve so much more than they get.
Y’all see the good side. The put together version of Jenn that I allow the world to see. You don’t see the crying, the short temper, the gagging and the puking and the shitting. You don’t hear the moaning. You don’t have to wake up with me in the middle of the night to medicate me because I’m confused and I’m pain. You don’t have to sleep next to the lady who only showers about once per week, and who never wants to have sex because sex causes way too much pain.
David, my sweet babe, thank you so much for everything. For all the times – good and bad. For all the laughs and all the heartbreak. We took what should have been a stupid little fling and turned it into a beautiful life: a family, a home, a community. Thank you for ten of the absolute best years of my life. I hope you will always remember me how I was on my 35th birthday on the beach – or on my 40th stumbling down Duval Street. Remember our kiss on Taylor Ave and the quiet yet passionate romance that followed in our wake, whatever we did. Remember Alabama with the kids, and the bears at the Smokey Mountains. Remember the ridiculous steamy night in Savannah while we hunted for ghosts. So many parties – include our fucking raver in 2015, which is still considered by many to be a fucking legend. That’s the Jenn I want you to remember. The Jenn that Rob had to carry out of the mosh pit after she threw a drink in that dude’s face. Remember her beauty, grace, intelligence, and how formidable she’d get after a couple drinks. Always down to lawyer/argue. Always down to fuck. And always so madly head over heels in love with you.
