You will never get over it but you will get through it.
These words hit home. At first I had started to feel guilty about not feeling miserable upon every thought of you. I felt as though I was betraying your memory – that my healing was erasing your existence. I was at war within myself.
I still think of you daily. Sometimes, like today, with great pangs. I miss you terribly. I miss your face, your eyes, the sweetness of your demeanor. I miss holding you, spending time with you, loving you and receiving your love in return.
It’s been five long years since you’ve died. Five long years since I held you as your breathed your last breaths. Five long years and I still haven’t let you go. I never will.
But now when I speak of you I am not always filled with sorrow. I can tell some of the funny times we shared without breaking down to tears. You can hear the pride in my voice when I speak of you, and others can see what a privilege that knowing you was for me.
You were sweet and kind, gentle and forgiving. You were a noble hero, innocent but not naive. You were everything I had ever hoped for, and so much more. No wonder the hole in my heart at your absence is still gaping.
Still, I smile again, and without guilt. I look forward to each new day instead of wallowing in the misery of facing yet another day without you by my side. I accept that you’re gone. I will never get over it. I am getting through it.
Know that I love you forever. Know that you will always be in my heart. Know that each year I will continue to write to you even though I realize this is my own therapy and nothing more.
Know that you could never be replaced, and will never be forgotten. I cry, and I smile, because of you.
Who are you talking about every year like this?
My boy. Born Jan 13, 1998 – died Apr 24, 2008.
Don’t give it away. Keep it. It’s yours. A good father will always be a good father. “He’s not shy. He knows who he trusts.” And though we cannot tell what even the day will bring, the past looks on us and the future will bring all things to light. The pain goes down like the sun. The wind pushes on. Man sets out for both in hopes they last a little longer as he holds out, until that rest so long deserving. A man never shrugs, even if he waits.
Hiya roc. I can’t imagine your anguish. I have a two year old boy and I’ll leave it at that. I read your blog and see your encouragement to all. Glad to see your blog post a while back whilst campaining stepping down a peg and being more human!!! I hope and pray that today finds you calm and at peace. So so sorry for you and I wish you all the best. What can be said??
The fact that you took the time to send me this comment helps immensely. I appreciate it.