I've Changed . . .

Dear Aaron,

I was driving down the road, a little south of your school on Saturday when I saw it. In the left corner of the rear window, a butterfly, almost like yours. 

And I wondered . . . 

Does it mean what yours does? Does the woman in the driver's seat share my pain? Does she feel the ache deep in her bones, in her heart? Does she smile at people and tell them she's "fine?" 

I don't know . . .  

I miss ya, kiddo, miss you so much.  

What would it be like if you were here? 

What are you doing there?

Little Miss Rachel is here, so perfect and so loved.

Two more grandbabies on their way, too. Do you play together? Do you teach them? Reassure them that they are loved beyond measure already? These children that will never know you on this side of the veil. 

My arms still ache to hold you. 

This is so hard! 

Lately I've seen a reel about dealing child loss that really hit me. It's two words:

You change.

And that is so true. 

Do you paint the sunsets I see? Every time I think of you is it because you're thinking of me? 

I am so grateful for you, my son.

And I miss you more than words can say.

Love,
Mama

"The reality is that you will grieve forever. You will not ‘get over’ the loss of a loved one; you will learn to live with it. You will heal and you will rebuild yourself around the loss you have suffered. You will be whole again but you will never be the same. 

Nor should you be the same nor would you want to."

— Elisabeth Kübler-Ross