Sweet sixteen and still hurting.

Today is my sons birthday.  He's a sweet sixteener and he's never been kissed, at least not by someone that wasn't related to him anyways.  

My baby boy, just a couple weeks old, died from SIDS at two months and 26 days old.  He's missed everyday by his family, and will be forever.

When he died people filled my head with heartfelt cliche's like, "it'll get easier" and "give it some time" and although those words helped light up my darkness, I can honestly say.

It doesn't always get easier, no matter how much time goes by.

Maybe they were talking about the fact that it would get easier to talk about him, or what happened to him, because it is.  But what's not easier, is seeing the pain in someone's eyes when I do tell them, the sorrow they feel for me or even the guilt they may feel, because they have sons that are still alive.

I told my younger, who by the way is still pretty bitter about our loss, that today is not a day to be mad that he's not here, today is the day we're happy that we even got him in the first place.  

Easy words to say, not so easy to feel.

But I will smile and go on, I mean, what choice do I have?  Plus, I have some of the most amazing people in my life, everyday, that keep me smiling.


We're going to his grave today, I'm baking him a cake, we're bringing him flowers, he'll feel our love and we'll feel his protection.

Maybe things are easier after all.


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