It goes without saying that I think of you every single day. There are days when I think of you and smile, days when I think of you and feel grateful for the short time that we had, and days like today when I think of you and feel an aching pain in the centre of my chest.
And it isn’t because we are commemorating another anniversary, or a special occasion where I particularly feel your loss. Nor is it because the dusky scent of Autumn has taken me back to those wonderful days when you kicked inside my tummy, or a song on the radio provoked a memory in me so strong that it feels like we have gone back in time. But simply because it is just a regular Wednesday, an average September evening, just a moment in time when the beat of my heart whispers your name.
For some days are just harder than others. For no apparent reason, no triggers, no special event or occasion. Just simply because of the fact that you are not here.
Today I sat in the park and I watched a little boy, older than you shall ever be, and he reminded me of you. I watched as he toddled around the swings, the slide, reaching his arms out to his Mama and giving her the biggest, most beaming of smiles. I gazed at him as his huge, soulful brown eyes took in the world around him, blinking in amazement at the bright colours, the characters, the wonders of life. I marvelled at the curl of his hair, the flush of colour in his chubby little cheeks and the sound of his laughter on the wind. And I could not take my eyes off him as he interacted with his siblings, as they ran circles around him, cried squeals of delight and showered him with kisses of adoration. And silent tears poured down my cheeks.
And sat there, taking in the scene, watching the little boy who looked exactly as I imagine you would have done at that age, it was impossible for me not to think of you as you would have been then, as you would have been now. I played the familiar game in my head, the morbid curiosity of asking myself, what would you be like now? How tall would you be? How different would our lives have been?
I remembered you, every inch of your being, every hair on your head, every perfect little piece of what made you special. And I missed you, I miss you, and all that you should have been.
And as the evening sun began to set and I stood to leave, I watched the little boy run over to his Mama, his arms outstretched and calling her name, and I scooped him up in my arms and planted kisses on his soft, warm neck. I held him tight in my arms and I thanked you, from the bottom of my heart, for sending him to us.
Your baby brother, Harrison Joseph. Our little piece of Heaven.