Today I’ve had the overwhelming realization that you are actually gone.
No matter how hard I wish or pray, you will never come back. I can do everything right, and you won’t come back. I could do everything wrong, and you won’t come back. It doesn’t matter what I do day in and day out because you will always be gone.
I try to see you in the world around me. I try to imagine you’re happy in Heaven and at peace. I try to find joy in each minute or at the very least, a reason to get to the next minute.
Today I just don’t have the energy to feel better.
So I cry. I scream out in pain “Why did it have to be him? Why is he gone?”
There’s times throughout my day when I just think he’s at daycare or with his Daddy. When I first wake up, I feel his presence for just a brief moment before it hits me that he’s really gone. He won’t be coming home from daycare or walking through the door with his Daddy. He wasn’t sleeping in his bed last night.
He is gone.
I want to hear his giggle, see his smile, and watch him play with Michael. He was just coming into his own character when he died. He was developing his own interests and showing what type of traits he was going to have. He was extremely empathetic. One cry or tear from anyone and he wanted to know what was wrong, to give a hug or a wave to make you smile. Those hugs and waves aren’t here anymore when I need them. They’re gone.
Tonight, I know I’m one day closer to holding my baby again. And that motivates me to go one more day tomorrow.
But right now, he’s gone.