Learning to live without you pushed me into a world where I was forced to ask, “Do you want to live like this?”

When I finally shouted from the rooftops, NO! My life took a shift

It took you dying for me to finally stand up for myself.

It took you dying for me to stop the cycle of abuse.

It took you dying to make me vulnerable for the first time.

It took you dying for me to demand respect from everyone.

It took you dying for me to be able to risk being messy with someone who wasn’t you.

It took you dying for me to finally be authentic.

It took you dying to open doors I never knew existed.

It took you dying for me to find authentic love like I had never known possible.

When you were taken from me, I finally found myself

–  run JKO run



Today I cried. 

Like really fucking cried. Not that cry that messes your makeup but the kind that messes up your face. I sobbed. My therapist told me I needed to cry more. That in fact I don’t emote enough. I don’t think she knows me very well. 

The first few months I cried all the way to work, a 45 minute release that felt like it would never end. Then one day, a new friend asked me, “Did you just say casually you cry all the the way to Work?”

I realized then by the look of concern on her face it wasn’t normal. So for my therapist to say I don’t cry enough baffles me. I just don’t let anyone see me cry. I’ve never let anyone see me cry. The first and only time my stepfamily of 18 years saw me cry was the day I walked, let’s be honest ran,  into the hospital to find my dad dead. I lost my shit. Like academy award winning lost my shit. It scared them. I’ll never cry in front of them again. 

Today however, today I cried. 

It’s not like life hasn’t given me reasons to cry. Holy fucking mother of God it’s surprising I keep it together so well. TBH I don’t understand my composure sometimes. We could go through the laundry list of clinical reasons why my life has sucked and unless I told you wouldn’t have any idea. Some people who’ve known me for decades don’t know but let’s be honest I’m good at pulling my shit together. 

For instance when I lost my shit the day I cuddled my dad’s dead body I would go from sobbing to pragmatic in seconds. My messy tears mixed with irrational profanity screaming at my dad to come back to a tone and inflection that of someone primm and proper and of someone put together in seconds. 

However, today I cried. 

I asked my soon to be ex husband a question testing his ability to be honest. Finally, for the first time in months he was honest. Painfully fucking honest. That kind of honesty that as he answered I wished I could take back the question. I thanked him for being honest for the first time in six years and walked out of the house to the dumpster. Every step my legs felt heavier. Every step I felt a little less control. Every step I became a little weaker until I finally cried. 

Today I cried in the dumpster. Not literally inside the dumpster but in the wooded area that corralled the dumpsters. I stood between recycling and trash and sobbed. I sobbed the messy sobs where my face began to heat up. I sobbed the panic, painful tears that when heard can be felt by anyone who heard them. I sobbed in silence so no one could hear until I began to hyperventilate. I practiced breathing skills to calm me down so I didn’t dry heave. They didn’t work in time. In between sobs and hyperventilating I dry heaved up air. I dry heaved up pain and sorrow and misery. I dry heaved up regret and loneliness. 

Today I cried. 

I cried until I heard his footsteps. I calmed myself down. It must have been a good ten minutes of sobbing. I pulled myself together and turned around and in my oh so put together  way I gave him directions and told him I would see him later. He looked at me broken and scared. 

Today I cried. 

I walked to my car, shut the door and sobbed. I sobbed so you could hear it. I didn’t know I could do that. I could feel the tears in my chest. I could feel the tears in my soul. I wailed and didn’t care who heard because my car was my protection. 

Today I cried until I couldn’t cry anymore but I can finally say, today I really fucking cried.  

The plan of the final goodbye

Truth be told I’ve been planning this trip since April. When David and I began talking about summer vacations I decided I wanted to take Dad on a trip. When I was like 21 I started to do a research project for dad. I called the little town dad grew up in, Xenia, OH and spoke with the county clerk/town librarian for months. We went back and forth via email and she was amazingly helpful. I received copies of census records, death certificates, and property documents, anything you can think of to learn more about Dad’s history. I was going to put a big thing together for dad. That didn’t happen because as always, I got busy. I did process it with him and we had a great conversation about his history! I loved that conversation I learned so much.


We talked about taking a trip back to Ohio and up to New Hampshire, where Dad attended Dartmouth for his undergrad education. It was going to be a fun trip across the country. I wanted to stop in LA and see where he first landed when he came to California in the seventies and then just travel with him. It was slated to be an amazing adventure! He ended up getting married and my life as an adult took flight and college became a thing.


So in April when I hit that pivotal “four-month” marker of grief I decided that I needed to do something with the ashes that my mother had given me to take care of. David and I decided to take an anniversary trip and he was unable to take an extra 10-14 days off. He talked about taking 5 days off and he could fly back. That didn’t appeal to me so I left it in God’s hands. I prayed on it and knew that it would happen. Power of prayer is an amazing thing.


When my favorite blonde and I began talking about this ridiculous road trip we both quickly realized that this was going to be a real thing I realized I needed to put to paper the idea of what would this trip look like. The idea was to take the trip Dad and I had talked about and spread him along the way, minus going to New Hampshire because that’s a long way to drive. I knew I wanted to spread him in Xenia. That was the end game. Everything in between was up for negotiation. She and I came up with a rough plan allowing me to process as we talked and whatever came up became a thing. The timing of the trip was amazing. During the course of this trip the 6th month anniversary of Dad’s passing will happen and we will arrive in Xenia the day before Father’s Day. Truly like God wrote this out and said here ya go!


The plan is much less of a plan than it is a series of things that I think might work and things that pop up as we go.


  1. San Francisco, CA: When dad moved from Ohio he moved to Los Angeles and then to SF. He loved SF and had so many awesome stories to tell about it. He even lived with his brother for a hot minute. I was raised in the Bay Area, not SF but the majority of my childhood was spent in the Bay Area. I thought it fitting to start here.
  2. Las Vegas, NV: My father and biological mother played a lot of poker professionally. This was my dad’s favorite hobby, was really good at it and he was happiest when he could play cards. He taught me how to play poker and shuffle cards before I learned how to play Go Fish. It’s a thing in my family. So of course I wanted a piece of him to be in Vegas.
  3. Xenia, Ohio: This is where dad spent the first 18 years of his life. After college ended I don’t know if he spent time back there I believe he moved after. I know in his twenties he left and never came back. He wanted to go back. He wanted to show me his life, his past.
  4. San Diego, CA: San Diego is purely for me. I love water. I know Dad loved water so that was enough for me. I graduated from college in San Diego and he was the reason that I went to college. It wasn’t even an option; of course Jamieko is going to college. He made me secure with being intelligent, he encouraged it. He encouraged me to do so much! San Diego is often considered one of the most beautiful places in California. I’m going to Carlsbad because that is one of my favorite places and it’s closest to my college.
  5. Monterey, CA: Monterey County became home for Dad when he got married again. So of course finishing in Monterey is fitting. My mother asked if she could join and she had a place she would love to spread. Originally I was going to take him to the Monterey Beach Hotel because I know that the two of them went there often and he loved that place. I am excited she’s taking part in this process. One of my best friends said she’d meet up with us and join in the final goodbye. I’ll probably invite one more friend.


So that’s the plan and mini-reasons of why I chose the spots I did. Some of the stops I’m making where ashes will not be spread are of significance and I will talk about that when we get there.


I’m so excited that this trip is taking place! I am so freaked out that this trip is taking place! I am also so blessed to be taking it with someone who lets me be ME like Popi did. I can be messy without judgment and be encouraged to process and not deflect. I can laugh at stupid things, cry without having to be silent, have a serious conversation with, sit in silence, then laugh until I want to pee on myself again all in the span of ten minutes. I am excited to be taking Dad on the road trip we talked about for years. Here’s to saying goodbye ❤

– run JKO run

Interview this or that?

I have began multiple posts the last few months and yet they sit in my draft folder unfinished and unmotivated to reach that finish. Is it strange I’m ok with that? I feel like at some point I’m going to blow up my blog with posts from February, March and April. Yet here we are in June and none of that might make sense. Oh well such is life!

Friday was the first day of summer break. Well in theory Thursday  was but I did a favor for my supervisor and worked a half a day yesterday interviewing potential candidates. Interviews intrigue me. Not because of anything specific but just because you are often someone you’re not normally. You know? You’re nervousness seeps out, you’re trying to put your best foot forward, you’re trying to put yourself on display like some sort of show pig who wants to be purchased at the end of the county fair.

Being the one to interview is really interesting! Reminds me of how many types of interviews there are. How many interviews you do in your lifetime, daily even! You as a person who interacts with people interview people every day. Do you realize that? Your children to see if they are in trouble, your spouse to see if you’re still connected, your boss to subconsciously see how you’re doing in your job, your friends to find the right support, the list goes on!

The last few weeks I’ve been interviewing my entire life. That process has been intense! Almost like a life crisis without being upset about it. I was doing it very subconsciously at first but now I am intentional. Who in my life makes me a better person? Do I like doing this? Am I really friends with you or do you use me for support? Do you make me laugh? Where is my smile? A daily interview to ensure my self care and people I surround me with matches my lifestyle. That lifestyle goal solely to be genuinely happy. 

The death of my father taught me a lot. The major focus now is, life is too short to not be happy. Too short to be for everyone else. Too short to not laugh. My interviews aren’t for a job or for a potential spouse they are to bring my laugh back permanently. So here’s to the interviews that continue, to me being the interviewer and the interviewee. To the adventure of the next step of life!

Here’s to laughter. 

-run JKO run

Undefined Relationships

This week I’ve been approached by the idea of undefined relationships. I think the word relationship is such a loaded word. Like seriously, when I say relationship your mind goes directly to a place. I’m not sure what that place is but you see some sort of connection between two people. I’m not sure why I’m struggling with the word but it feels so foreign as if I have never had the choice to truly define a relationship and that is uneasy for me. So much so that I use it in quotes.

Relationships come with boundaries. Boundaries that can either live in the depths of your inner soul and you never share or they can be clear and defined and brought to the forefront of the relationship. Turns out it’s uneasy for me to have to define anything. What in the hell is that fucking about?

The one thing I have learned with my new relationship is that it fulfills something I didn’t know was missing. That frustrates me. I could even go as far to say that pisses me off! I think of myself as very self aware and the death of my father seems to have fucked me up more than I knew and like that with the changing of the seasons, hell the fucking changing of a shirt, I find something else out about me that I never knew.  How could I not know something this big was missing?

I have not truly sought out help. That sounds so shitty and pathetic. But I haven’t. I have worked through things on my own. I started running again. I talk to my husband. I have one or two friends who check in on me and I share with them but other than that I’ve been riding solo. Wasn’t until I reached out to an ex boyfriend this week who also lost his dad while we were dating that I realized I needed something else. I needed understanding. I needed clarification. I needed to be heard. All which I suppose is the hope of my connecting with this ex but since I haven’t followed through with that it hasn’t happened. So who knows if those needs will be met.

I think the fact that I haven’t sought people out and I have only turned to God has made me more vulnerable. More aware. That’s a good thing. So when my new relationship began to ask questions no one else asked it felt different. It felt intentional. I don’t know that in the 3 decades of making friends and having relationships I have ever had anyone be so intentional. Not even when, let’s be honest, someone was trying to get into my pants. That’s not to be misunderstood as my husband doesn’t care or I don’t feel loved by my best friends. It’s just different. I am loving it and so fucking terrified by it. It was/is clearly something missing in my life and I don’t want it to end.

It’s foreign. It’s uneasy. What is the saying? “You grow only when you get out of your comfort zone!”

So here I am building a relationship that is different from the start with someone I for sure would not have chosen. The intentions are so pure and probably for the first time this “relationship” feels pretty damn equitable in all things imagined.

So of course I search for reasons every other hour to end it. Classic.

-Run JKO Run


I am Distraction’s Right Hand Man

Have you met my friend Distraction? Some of you may know him well. Consciously making dates with him even introducing him to your friends and your family.  However, some of you may not know him as Distraction.

Some of you may call him Busyness. Or maybe family obligations. How about focused on work. Or my favorite entertainment from friends? He goes by so many names. His original name though, when you get to know him as intimately as I do is Distraction.

In fact I am Distractions Right Hand Man!

I met him when I was young. So young. I remember when he visited after my first heartbreak. That one after Scott and I had been together for 2 and a half years! He was older and I was 15. 15 and heartbroken and Distraction visited and comforted my soul. He taught me about working and taking college classes while being active in high school on the cheer squad, in multiple sports, in the choir, in clubs. He really supported me in my education and in doing well in life.

I am Distractions Right Hand Man!

I am tricked by his accolades. Jamieko you are amazing! You are the busiest woman I know. Wow Jamieko you have such a servants heart! I am tricked by him. I get wrapped up in how good it feels to serve others. Do unto others, I have been taught. So I undertook large projects, feeding 1500 people, building homes, painting schools, supporting the disabled connecting family members from across the country, coaching sports while working 3 jobs, I am a proponent of the little man. That is what Distraction tells me. I am doing what God wants me to do!!

I am Distractions Sidekick!

I remember when I was young he came around when Mom left. When I had to be shipped away from my Dad so I didn’t have to live on the streets. He was known as family then. He was the one I played with in the dark. He was the one who comforted me when I had to make new friends, again. He was the stories my family told me to make me feel alright. He made me funny, interesting, pliable and able to become what everyone needed me to be so I fit in. I became him so no one knew what was happening.

I am Distractions Confidant

When I got divorced my first thought was God what goals do I have that I haven’t achieved? So I moved to China, in two weeks. Teach! I know I want to teach over seas. That didn’t work out so I came home after a month because Distraction, Distraction he stayed over in the US. I was lonely without him. So I came back and became the best bartender and counselor I could.With him by my side my catch phrase became, I can make it happen!

I am Distractions Best Friend

He introduced me to so many amazing things. Volunteering, working multiple jobs, moving, running races and self-care in general to name a few. Lets be honest it’s amazing how he disguises himself as Self Care. Like a best friend he introduced me to things like Grad School and my husband. Let’s be honest if he had not been around I would have waited on both of those. But like a good friend, he pushes things, he helps me rush into things, he justifies everything.

I am Distractions Mistress

He gently slides his hand up my skirt, titillating me. He encourages me to focus on my impulsive desires and supports that those are healthy choices making sure I know nothing but to be by his side. He pulls me away from my husband with his intrigue, promises and attention and calls himself Facebook, Instagram and Snapchat. He pulls me away from my family programmed into my phone as Work or Church. He is a tricky Bastard.

I am Distractions Bitch!

I do what he wants, when he wants. No fucking questions asked. I am Distractions Bitch. He is a tricky and manipulative asshole and I do what he says with a smile on my face. The moment I feel anything he pops up. He makes sure to comfort my soul. He makes sure I need him at all times because he does not want me to feel the pain, the loss, the heartbreak, the disappointment. He thinks he’s saving me from myself.

He’s wrong.

What Matters Most

What matters most to me right now is that I’m pissed off and sad. I don’t like all of these people talking to me, touching me, trying desperately to connect with me in what feels disgenuine. That conversation that is only there to fill the air because the fear of silence is uneasy for them. 

The need to touch me lovingly angers me as if the only way people can connect is through touch. In fact my personal bubble needs an invitation! An invitation that seems to be falsely engraved in my smile. My RBF (resting bitch face) seems to only draw people in more. 

I feel like my exhaustion of peopling isn’t being respected in a room full of 50 potentially grieving people. 

That noise! That fucking noise!? Who the hell leaves their cell phone on at an event about grief??? Incessant beep then chime, whatever it is it pisses me off. 

What matters to me most is I’m angry. I don’t get to be the angry one because I’m the nice one. I’m the loving one. I’m the empathetic one. Tonight, tonight I want to be the angry one. The one who when you speak my skin crawls. The one who actually wants to punch you in the face with a brick!

What matters to me most is I’m livid. Being angry shuts down the tears. The sniffle and the tears and the pulling of tissues that fills the air. The grief that envelopes the air is suffocating me. 

Shut up! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! PLEASE SHUT UP!!! I wish they could hear me scream so I could finally hear silence. 

What matters to me most is silence and solitude. Tonight I want the anger to end. Tonight I want the pain to end. Tonight I want silence.