If grief is an ocean you take up permanent residence next to, then right now the sea is story and the waves are rough.
I’m not sure why this past holiday season has been so difficult, but the grief has been nearly overwhelming lately. And today, on what would have been Charlie’s 15th birthday, I look back on the day he was born, and the handful of birthdays we were able to share with him, and I … mourn. Cry for what was, and what could and should have been.
It’s become clearer to me as time has gone on just how thoroughly I failed him. My punishment is that I have to go the rest of my life knowing that.
So I look back on happier times. Happy Birthday, darling boy.
Saying the Quiet Parts Out Loud 