Every so often, grief strikes again.

The more time that passes, the more guilt and pain I feel. It’s really sinking in that he is never, ever coming back and I cannot undo my mistakes nor change what happened. I didn’t do the one job I have as parent—I didn’t keep him safe. 

I am never going to hug him, or hear his voice, or tell him I love him, not ever again.

I’ve been going down, down, down into a dark abyss of pain. I cling to the warm light of my husband, my daughter, my son, my friends. But it’s a tiny light, and the darkness is very deep. 

I don’t know what I’ll be when (if?) I ever come back into the light.