Tuesday, September 6, 2016


There was no way my boy was gonna die small. A simple pass-in-his-sleep wouldn’t have been big enough for Jim. He lived huge. I see now that his death was never going to be ordinary.

As most of you know, we lost my love, my heart, the man who made me feel brilliant, beautiful, cared for, and valuable, in a plane crash last Tuesday evening. All I can seem to say to people is how sorry I am for their loss. He belonged to us—his family, his wife, his kids, his grandson—but it’s not just us who are hurting; my guy left a massive wake. His friends, his forum-mates, his Best Practice Group, his clients, and, most of all, his beloved employees at Victory have lost so profoundly too.

Here is a link to his obituary. It's the the most important tribute I've ever written and the only thing I’ve ever felt absolutely certain is beyond my skill. No words can adequately salute this man.

I am receiving message after message telling me how much Jim loved me. And I am so grateful to be able to say that I know it. One of his most charming—and, yes, irritating at times—traits was that he couldn’t keep his mouth shut. About anything. He told me. He told me every day, time and again, and in so many ways that he was so incredibly in love with me. We were happy. I am the luckiest girl to have had any of his time.

It has been my great privilege to be in his kids’ lives. He has raised some of the most responsible, thoughtful, hilarious people you’ll ever know. It is going to be my honor to do everything in my not inconsiderable power to see that these kids never stop feeling and knowing that they were Jim’s world. His heart was happiest when we were all under one roof. We’re doing that now, but without our most important piece.

He smelled better than anyone. He had perfect legs. He knew he had a perfect nose. No one thought Jim was funnier than Jim did. He loved wrapping his arms all the way around me. He knew how to love me. I loved loving him.


Misti said...

I literally said "What?!" when I opened this post because, what? Ever since I re-found your blog a few years ago and have seen how you've written about your relationship with Jim, well, it's been fun to read. Man. I'm sorry to hear this.

Kate said...

Dear Megan, I haven't commented here for a long long time, but I've always been reading. I'm so very very sorry to hear of Jim's death, but I'm so very very grateful that you had him, and that you shared your joy with everyone here.
I hope that the good days will help to offset the bad ones, and I send you and Jim's lovely kids all my love.
Kate xx

Unknown said...

I am long time follower from afar. A sob just caught in my throat. Your every post communicated how much Jim meant to you and what a sweet and tender relationship you had. I am so so sorry. My heart breaks for you and your family. Sending so many prayers.

Lydia Kelley said...

Sweet crickets. I'm so very sorry. I've read your blog for years, since before the first one lost his mind. I read this today, and began to cry. He was, I'm sure, an amazing man and living without him will be tragic. I can't imagine the pain you are in, but please know,that I hug you from a distance and pray that you carry on his light and love in his honor.

Katie Pease said...

Megan, I've followed your blog for a while and you never cease to make me laugh! Even in a time of grief you have made me laugh, what an amazing thing to do. Even though I never have had the pleasure to meet you or your Jim, I grieve for you. I am sending you good thoughts and positive vibes. Thank you for always keeping it real and for brightening my day! Hugs and love to you and yours!