From Riches to Rags, and the Glory I Found There

  For the first time since John died I told myself that I did not have be brave. There is an ache in my heart that hates myself for it and a shame that lingers in the quiet moments making me wonder if I should force myself to do it anyway. Some of my family is going camping...and if you know anything about who John was, you will remember that he loved camping... loved it. He tried to go as often as possible, he even tried to convince me to go camping for our honeymoon (that was a hard pass). I enjoy camping, but never to his level, I enjoy comfort more. His absence leaves me regretting every camping trip I talked him out of and every vacation we took to the beach instead.  I'm sorry...I could have done better. I could have chosen to be the adventurer that you were instead of being the strings that tied you down. I could have said "yes" more often than I said "no"...I could have...but I didn't. But I also know that you loved me more than you loved camping an...