A letter to my son in heaven
My heart breaks knowing I will not see you again in this physical world. I pray for the pain as if that justifies losing you. Missing you will always be a part of me. This pain is intolerable. It stops my breath.
My face is drenched with tears. My eyes are puffy and swollen. This unrelenting pain curses through my body. My beautiful and loving son, I can see you so clearly in my mind. Please find a way to come back to me. I beg you. I know that’s not possible or logical. But my heart doesn’t understand logic, only the loss of your physical presence.
I need your love. I need your presence in my life. I don’t want people to forget your magnificent soul. Your soul and spirit are a part of God, just as I am, as we all are.
There is so much happening in our world and family. I miss your unique perspective. I have to pretend you speak to me and share your thoughts as you did before you departed.
Am I complicated person? How do we view our multidimensional world so that I feel your presence as I know you gaze over my shoulder right now.
Yet my heart still breaks into small fragile pieces because I cannot accept this change in my life.
I didn’t think life was perfect until I lost you. I don’t know how to move forward. What can I possibly do now that will be joyful?
I need drugs to survive. I’m weak.
I wish I could take something to take away this reality. Let me feel painless. How do I hold this memory; my greatest loss of you sweet Gaven?
I truly loved my father and my grandparents, but they lived long lives. They made their choices.
You have always been good. Your integrity was written in your soul and shared with all.
You will continue to give me purpose. My children gave me reason to aspire. Creating opportunity and security for all of you in a secure environment of love. To see you happy, thriving and growing has always been important to me.
My life has stopped. Each day the sun rises and the sun sets, but my heart only aches.
Now I see other people and realize they have lives I know nothing about, because I do not know them.