Six months ago I was holding you. I held you for the last time, I was numb.

Today I miss you, just like yesterday and the day before that too. But, I get my strength from you. I’m learning to move forward and honor your memory in so many ways. You were so strong and I will be strong for you. Thank you for setting an amazing example for me and everyone who’s lives you’ve touched.

I’m making amazing things happen and helping so many amazing people because of you.

My heart will always hurt, I will always miss you, but I am strong for you. Thank you my son! I love you to the moon and back, forever!

Today I’m sad. I miss you. I wanted to write a post yesterday, but I was sad then too. I couldn’t bring myself to write. I didn’t know what to say. Except I miss you more and more each day.

Five months and one day ago there were sounds. Sounds of a ventilator, concentrator, pulse ox, suction machine, and still sounds of you breathing with the vent. Then, five months ago there wasn’t. It’s quiet. It’s hard because it’s quiet. Sometimes I still think I hear them. The beeping of the pulse ox means I need to check on you, but you’re not there. I may have forgotten for a brief second that you were gone. How could I have gotten so consumed in something that I forgot to think about you. I am sad.

Then, five months came. Five months and a day. Life keeps going, it doesn’t stop. Some days I wish it would because I need a little extra time to process all that’s went on. I remind myself to keep moving forward. I listen because I know you’re there with me every step of the way, silently coaxing me. My biggest supporter, I miss you much. See you again some day! Love you to the moon and back, forever!