The morning of July 4th, RJ texted saying something was wrong with his dad and he was taken away in an ambulance. He was freaking out and didn't know what to do.
After staring at that text for a minute, I didn't really know how to respond. I couldn't help him from three states away, but I could offer words of encouragement and positivity. Then told him to keep me updated as I was going back to sleep.
The next 12-14 hours were so hard. As updates started to come from the doctors, it was clear that he wasn't going to be walking out of the hospital. And that was a devastating blow to RJ.
On July 6th, at 8:09am, I was notified that The Ex had passed.
After years and years of fighting, arguing, disagreeing on almost everything, I found myself feeling something I hadn't felt in so long. I was hurting, and I wasn't even married to him anymore.
I hurt for my son. I hurt because I knew the pain was just beginning. I tried to be so strong for RJ, and after a few conversations with Sis, we decided we were going to drive out to see RJ during this time.
It was a quick trip. She flew down to LA to meet me, and then we rented a car and drove to Texas. We only stayed for a couple days, but I just needed to hug RJ in person. Virtual hugs and kisses just weren't going to do it this time. He was in too much pain.
Tomorrow would have been his 53rd birthday.
Miss you.
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