Summer Solstice Seems Dark

Dear Aaron,

I don't know what it is, but today is hard! 

I cried before work today, first time in a long time. 

I cried on the way home. One minute I was fine, and the next, well, not so much.

I sobbed at the cemetery.

I just don't know. 

It's one of those times that just grips my heart, reminds me that you really are gone, at least from my sight.

When I got to your spot, it was different. Your pinwheel had been moved to the other side, the butterflies were slightly different, and your stone and flowers had been moved forward. Green spray paint marked a rectangle on the grass. 

Then I noticed the orange construction-type flag with your name ... and your death date. 

That date...

Anyway, it looks like your permanent stone will be installed soon. How soon? I don't know. Maybe tomorrow?

I keep going back to the numbers. 13 years, six months and ten days on this earth. 26 weeks tomorrow since your eyes were last open, 26 weeks on Saturday since your last heartbeat and somehow, it almost seems inexplicable, somehow mine kept going. 

And six months on Sunday. 

It's summer solstice, the longest day of the year, and it seems like an eternity since I last held you. 

I miss you so much, my son. 

I just miss you.

Love,
Mama 

“To have been loved so deeply,
even though the person who loved us is gone,

will give us some protection forever.”

J.K. Rowling