First Day of School Without You

Dear Aaron,

Today's the first day of school, but not for you.

I saw buses as I walked this morning. Facebook (and probably Instagram) was peppered with pictures of 1st graders, 3rd, 5th, 9th, 12th... 

Several times I was not prepared and missed 1st day pictures, at least for some of the kids. It would turn into 1st week of school pictures, but I got them. Backpacks and lunches packed, clothes picked out, one of the few mornings when I would actually get a real breakfast made. And hugs as you all went out the door. 

But not today...

Today gripped me all over again. 

I sobbed and yelled again on the way home from work. 

In my mind, this wasn't supposed to be how it happened. 

You were supposed to be starting high school, 9th grade. Holli would have been with you. The bus would have picked you up, probably late because it's always hard to judge those first few days. 

Instead, I went to your grave this morning before work to put your lights and butterflies back out. I got there just as the sun cleared the trees on the eastern side of the cemetery. Your smile greeted me, but I have to say that granite is a poor substitute for a warm, laughing, silly, alive little boy. Or I guess, big boy?  

Michael leaves next Wednesday. It's gotten a little harder each time we've dropped off a missionary, and I figured Michael's would be the roughest, but I had no idea how hard it would be. 

I'm trying, Aaron, I really am.  

I'm trying to eat better, to go walking, to appreciate all the beauty around me, and it really is beautiful. 

I tried to remind myself that I'm not losing you, I'm letting you go. It seems a little better that way, but only a little.

Sometimes I just need to give in and feel the pain, 'cause it's very much there, too. 

Today my arms ache, literally ache to hold you, and you're not here.

Oh, I miss you....
Mama

"Grief is the deepest, swiftest river you will drown in”

― Jane Edberg