Dear Danny,
The first July you are not here…. the first July I have not spent with you in my life in 21 years…. the July our marriage turned 16 years old…. July 2026.
There is so much I want to say… so much I can’t seem to say…. and a huge amount of disappointment that finding the words has not been possible. It feels like a disservice to let this month end without trying – so here I am….
Falling in love with you will always be one of the best things that ever happened to me. It was the type of love that made me develop a taste for adventure… feel like I was starring in my very own romcom…. and made everything feel possible. You made food taste better (ham sandwich with mustard has never been so good)…. the little signs of the seasons feel spectacular (a summer night in an old Ford Explorer may forever be my favorite – why isn’t there a candle scent for that?!?!)…. and I have never enjoyed watching a human more than you. I can close my eyes and for certain know what it’s like to watch you in a hospital room, driving a car, cooking a meal, taking in a new city, or walking a dog. Someday I will find the ability to watch all the videos of you doing those things I have – because I was always afraid I might forget what they looked like or what they did to the butterflies in my stomach. I married for love – there is no doubt.
One of the most comforting things people said when you passed: we were always honest. So here goes that part: because of how it all felt and was for so long, when we entered the chapter of parenthood – the chapter we always wanted- and that Danny wasn’t there, something broke. One big thing…. a million little ones….. and I can come up with all the reasons – what we both did, what you did, what illness does…. and I wonder almost daily if naming it matters. If knowing what it was matters…. is being really honest about what humans do when they are taken to the point of breaking and hope feel lost matter? Oddly enough, death gave me the answer I think. What happened: how we started wasn’t possible when we finally got to the parenthood chapter and it devastated me. And when I can bear to revisit how you handled it- I think it did the same for you. Now your gone and in so many ways it is different and also the same….. you had left going into that second transplant and never came back. Now Shannon and so have a way to explain it. That helps and also the explanation is forever and that doesn’t.
But what death also gave me: the gift of going back…. and Dan I remember it all. I know who we were and why we said I do. Why we tried to say it again 2 years ago and why at the end you surprised everyone and put me as your person at Fairfax. We both got the gift of returning to the start and the gift to say goodbye to that too.
And I think you gave me the anniversary gift for 16 years early. A phone conversation early fall. I told you I was going to “go for it” with work. You told me I could do it. We started dreaming what it could mean for our family …. you truly lit the spark that had been ignited in us Summer 2005 and weeks later I walked into that hospital room for a good bye. The weeks after that I got really lost…. my tribute to you and to us. But this summer Dan, I started to come back. It’s been hard…. it’s been work… and for all the reasons I had no idea what I would have to face. But my health coach said it this week Dan: “you are healing Jackie- and it is powerful.” Marriage refines you and so many of the things ours taught me suddenly have started to fall into place. The greatest gift.
This week Shan ran down the hall of our little house. Excited because she had just spent a summer day with some of her new favorite people from our world here…. and Dan- it was you. That stride that I had memorized on you came back and took my breath away. I married for love…. I memorized you for love…. and I get to see it again thanks to our love. And guess what? While I am healing … while I finally learning what matters … you will be proud to know I am becoming the version I wish I could have been for you… for us…. but I am for her. I needed you… our life… and lessons in death to become who I was meant to be… thank you.
Our life changed human lives for the better- ours and hers- love well lived.
All my love,
Jackie
Have A Little Faith in We 
This is really beautiful. I learned about CF 30+ years ago when I worked with Danny’s brother Pete. I participated in great strides and donated to Danny’s COTA fund. I was also lucky enough to care for him several times when I worked at Fairfax as an ER nurse. Danny was one in a million and even though I tried to make it to his memorial, I got stuck at work late and felt it would be disrespectful to show up in scrubs. Anyway, I think of Dan often, even though I hadn’t seen him in years. Every picture of Shannon is like looking at Danny and you are obviously an amazing mom. I wish Danny had been well enough to be the kind of dad he wanted to be – and I still see so much love in his eyes in his pictures with her. Sending you much love and I’m glad to know you are healing.
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