Our Mission
On February 18, 2020 Megan, Landon (7), Maddox (6), and Wyatt(4) Watson had to say goodbye to a loving husband and devoted father at the young age of 36 due to complications of Influenza B and Strep A. The reality this sweet family now faces is almost insurmountable, almost impossible, but is also inevitable. This website is dedicated to the brave, strong, loving Watson family. It is also dedicated to the many other young widows who have lost their husbands, widowers who have lost their wives, and children living life without their parent(s). We are here to remind you that you are not alone. You are supported. You are welcome here.
Life without Jonathan Ross Watson was, at one point, impossible, at one point unspeakable, at one point unfathomable. But we now realize that despite how much we visualized, how hard we fought, how much we had hoped, life doesn’t always listen. In light of something so undeservedly horrific, something that makes no sense at all, we must somehow find a way to make sense of it. We must cry when we need to, be courageous when we can, allow ourselves to be broken, and live the truth by releasing the agony. And we want to do that together, with you. Losing a loved one is immensely heart wrenching, but losing a loved one without support is torture. Let us be your support.
We invite you to follow the Watson family’s journey; whether you are just joining us, or you have followed along via our GoFundMe. You are all welcome here. We will continue to post updates on the Watson family and their heartbreaking, raw journey as they continue on their life path apart from Jon.
We realize everyone’s journey is unique and individual. We are not telling anyone how to grieve, we’re just giving one example of how this family does so. This isn’t the only way to do it, this is just their way and we thank you for being a part of it.
“Sometimes it’s okay if the only thing you did today was breathe.”
“You let time pass. You survive the days. You float like a rabid ghost through the weeks. You cry and wallow and lament and scratch your way back up through the months. And then one day you find yourself alone on a bench in the sun and you close your eyes and lean your head back and realize you’re okay.”