So Heavy

Jennifer Estes
2 min readMay 9, 2024
Photo by Rodrigo Ramos on Unsplash

Depression hangs all over me. It permeates every single cell. It clouds around me as my sad, sorry aura. I am still wondering, who the fuck I am. It’s been two years, seven months, and twenty-five days since Tom died.

My partner, best friend, soul mate, deepest love, and most aggravating roommate. He was the one I chose, and I was the one he chose. We were limited to thirteen years, five months, and eight days together.

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Jennifer Estes

I am a widow, a mortician, a mom, and grandma. I write about grief, caregiving, substance use disorder, and the death care industry.