This week I’ve had a good friend visit from Denver. It’s hard to give myself permission to grieve when trying to entertain, and it’s hard to cope with the guilt of trying to put my grief on the back burner. I know you would want me to live my life and be happy, but when I try to do that I feel like a terrible mother. I still have the heaviness of grief every second of the day, even when I laugh. You and I have always had the need for humor and laughter every day. I don’t think there has been much about either of us that is completely serious, but I feel as though that love for life and love for laughter is fading from me since your death. I hope it’s temporary, because this life is too hard without laughter. I miss it, but mostly I miss laughing with you. I miss being idiots together. You brought me so much joy and laughter and I don’t know where else to find it. Maybe it is just a unique part of who we were together that it can never be replaced. Please tell me that I’ll find it in heaven. I know you’re there and I am trying my best to get there to be with you again. I love you, Jake and miss your laugh every single day!