I Miss You

Dear Aaron,

I miss you.

I guess that's not anything new.

Facebook reminded me that nine years ago today was the Alpine Days Parade. A good old-fashioned hometown parade, kids scrambling everywhere, gathering candy, smiles. One little boy passing out treats saw you in your wheelchair on the side and brought three pieces over and put them on your lap. And I cried. He saw you, he saw you. 

I cried again today remembering. 

I've got some thoughts bouncing around in my head, but they haven't quite settled yet. But like I've said before, this grief stuff is weird, and unpredictable, and just hard!! 

I know there are those who think I should be "better" now. There are even times I wonder if I should be. I know that's not how it works, but still, my mind goes there. 

And then it goes back to you, and the pain hits all over again. 

I saw a grey dove this morning as I left for work. It swooped over to the neighbor's tree as I backed out, and then back across the driveway. As I pulled down the driveway, it was perched on the gable above Michael's room. 

It brought a smile to my face and made me think of you. My guess is the feather I found in the grass came from it. 

I'm not sure why, but I find myself in tears often again, especially on the way home from work. Is it because I'm tired? Because I've been working hard to compartmentalize? Or because yet again, we've lost another member of our community. Dawson was one of the few boys older than you, and now he's in heaven, too. 

I find myself pulling back from people, from less vital connections. I am more inside myself and with my family. But even there, I am watching more, interacting less . . .  maybe more introspective? I don't know. I just know that sometimes it seems like too much to put forth the effort. 

But then, you always did try hard, and I'm trying to be more like you. I hope it's okay that I don't always manage. 

Love you, kiddo.

Thanks for being mine, please stay close.

Love,
Mama

“Any woman who’d ever lost a child knew of the hollowness that remained within the soul.”

- Brittainy C. Cherry