On Dec. 8th, my ex-husband passed away. We were not close after I moved away, though I tried to remain on friendly terms. His son found me after scouring through old emails, and we have reconnected and reminisced for a few hours already. His death wasn't a shock to me, but like having to put a beloved pet down, you're never really ready for it to happen.
I mourn his loss because he was someone I loved deeply. We were probably too much alike to make things work; I used to say if I'd been born a man I would've been him, with the exception of being able to drink. When I left he said, "I always knew you would leave." There are so many reasons why he'd make a statement like that, but nevertheless would try for a few years to win me back. We were best friends and soulmates but we couldn't live together as husband and wife.
All correspondence from him stopped about 6 years ago. His son told me his father was diagnosed with cancer at that time and I'm sure everything changed. I wish my ex had told me about being sick. I wish I could've told him how much I still cared. We went through so much before and during our marriage, it should have been worth something.
Rest in peace, John Michael Ingersoll. Maybe we'll see each other again on the other side.
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