Dear Son,

I’ve been staying busy.  The daylight hours have begin to shrink and the trees are turning gold.  Maine was wonderful.  You were in our heart and mind the whole time your dad and I were there.  I wished that your sister could have been there too.  It was great having our college friends join us.  You would like them.  You would approve.

I wish I could adequately express to you how I am feeling.   Some folks seem to think that those who have died are omnipotent and “know” what we are doing.  I don’t like that idea.   Regardless I can’t make it be one way or another.  Sometimes I do however,  think you are right at my shoulder or elbow, watching.

Missing you has become a dull ache that reacts sharply at times when hit by the hot and cold of this reality.

I keep trying to be the person you knew.  I try to remember that I am an individual and that you are too.  What we shared was just that – shared.   It is not that I am not willing to share some of those things with someone else but I have not found that someone else and to be honest I am not looking.

Your sister and I have our own special relationship.   I treasure it and I am glad that it differs from what I had with you.  Neither better nor worse – just unique to the personalities interacting.  The same with your dad, I am his wife and partner.  I sort through this simplistic thinking just to make sure I am not blurring the lines or becoming confused or erroneously projecting something on someone who does not deserve it.

When we had you and found out we were expecting your sister we had that sudden fear that most parents of one child have.  Will we be able to love her as much as we loved you?  It is an amazing thing that humans seem to grow another emotional heart when a new child comes into their life.  What a joy!  Having two deliciously beautiful children and watching them grow together while yet becoming individuals!

Are you able to be aware of how much we think of you?  Your sister has had a hard time lately and it is tied up partly in memories of you.   I  really think you would be so proud of her, as I am.  She has a inner strength and tenacity that sustains her.  I always worry that she is overly generous, but then you always accused us of that too.  I suppose the apple does not fall far from the tree.

I had an awful dream right after you died that haunts me now.  I had to tell you that you had died and you were so annoyed at me.  In the dream you told me that it was not funny and to stop saying that. I hate that I had that dream.  When the media starts talking about all the medical miracles on the horizon with the research that is being done I panic and think – oh no – what if we should have made them keep you on life support in hopes of something appearing on the horizon the would have saved your life? I try to convince myself that the dream was just a dream, and I know that neurological innovations in medicine are difficult.  It is an attempt to make sense, to evoke guilt for me surviving and you not.

Here I am sobbing and here comes our 12 year old pomeranian to comfort me.  You take the comfort that you can.

We have had a cold snap and I think I am hoping for a cold winter that bundles us up inside with dusty books and hot tea.  I work on looking forward though the landmarks have changed and shifted. Clarity is difficult.

I cannot begin to tell you how much I miss you.  There are not enough words and not enough time.

I know I am not alone in this.  I have met so many through different venues who are walking this path too.   We gain strength through each other to try and give meaning to each day.

I love you so much.   But then, I really do think you know that.

Forever,

Mom