I brought the boy’s ashes home at last, and scattered them with his family in a beautiful spot I’m sure he would have loved. I said goodbye in quiet words intended just for him: “I couldn’t have imagined anyone more perfect to go through life with. You were my hero. I hope you knew how much you meant to me”.
He has been on my mind constantly lately, while this milestone was approaching. I have been afraid for so long that he would fade from my memory and I would lose what little I have left of him. I am beginning to trust that won’t happen now. He continues to be a constant presence – tied to all the day to day moments we normally shared together. I think of him when I wake up, eat a meal, spend time at home alone or out with our friends, and when I go to bed at night. I think of him whenever I have a question he could have answered, in moments where we would have shared an inside joke, and when I come across an interesting article I would have liked to share with him.
I miss my kind, brilliant, good-humored boy. I miss the sense of absolute security I had from knowing he looked out for me. I miss the comfort of his hugs. I miss his contagious enthusiasm and the never ending flow of thought and information he couldn’t help but share. And missing him is a good thing, because it keeps him close.
I dreamed of him this morning and for the first time since I lost him, was able to hold him close and tell him how much I loved him. I’m feeling better today than I have in a long while.