You know, I miss the simplicity of the life you and I had, but there are so many variables wrapped up into one, it's hard to say what I miss. I miss being in the city and getting together with our friends ...whenever. But that is something that disappeared once we all started families and fled to the burbs - not just because you died. I miss having a perpetually playful homelife, where the stakes were low and we were just... silly all the time. But perhaps that would have receded with parenthood anyway. Since you got sick when Bax was 10 months old and died 8 months later, it's hard to know. But it's definitely all confounded in this little mind of mine.
What I do know is that I married someone who you would love and respect, though he is quite different from you. PJ is morally serious. He is playful and funny, sure... but he also feels the weight of many social problems with his every breath. He and I often talk about the kind of emotional detachment he needs to have from his profession. He can't win every trial. He certainly can't bring victims back through his courtroom successes... but he still feels it - and I can see the furrow in his brow at the end of a long and troublesome week. When I lament this stressful life we have, he reminds me that this morally serious person is the one who, at age 27, was ready to date a widow with a child, and to assume the role of Baxter's father. As I always say, "it's a complete package. No substitutions." I think I have changed a lot, too. I am still playful, but not as lighthearted. I miss that me. Because you left when I was just becoming a real grown-up, I can never know if I would have missed that "old me" anyhow. But your departure sure left an inconvenient causal agent on which I can continue to blame my lack of silliness.