Three Years Missing You...

    Tomorrow will be three years since I lost my son...three years of missing him.  I remember and relive this evening as each year passes...the last moments I spent with Ryan on this earth.  They are so vivid, so clear...yet so long ago.
    As September 1st hits, the anxiety begins to build within.  A silence fills my heart.  With each passing day, the sadness and anxiety build within.  I wonder if I will survive each day, but then remember I feel this way every September...and I do survive.
     This anniversary date is holding much turmoil, not only for myself, but for Kaitie.  The little girl in this picture is now the same age and grade in school that Ryan was when he died.  With that reality comes much fear, worry, sadness, and heartache.  Kaitie is carrying an anxiety and fear no one could understand.  My heart aches for the journey she is on right now, and has been on for so long now.  She is strong and courageous, but like myself, carries her pain within.  As a mom, I look at her, and I remember Ryan.  She is exactly where he was when died...I can't even express how that feels and weighs in my heart.
     I feel as though I have endured this year better then last year.  I'm not sure if I'm just learning to survive with more grace, or if I'm just burying my broken heart with more ease.  With tears rolling down my face as I type this, I think I probably just bury the heartache with more ease.  Pushing the pain down is one of the ways to survive each day.  It really is too much to endure...I can only handle little bits at a time.  
     How do you ever accept, or get over the fact that your child died?  You don't.  How do you ever find peace within your soul, when such a large part of it is gone?  You don't.  How do you feel safe when you go to bed each night, knowing that one of your children died in their sleep?  You don't.  How do you ever feel peace within your heart, when your heart has been shattered?  You don't.  You just learn to live with it.  You learn to endure the heartache.  You learn to live your life as it is now, and carry the emptiness within.  You try to be the best you can be with what you have left, knowing inside it is not at all the person you were before.  You move forward because you have to, not necessarily because you want to.  
     Losing a child is a lifetime grieving process.  It's something you live through each and every day.  It's been three years.  Yes, I am surviving.  Yes, I am living life.  Yes, I am trying the best I can.  Yes, I have learned to laugh again.  However...the longing, the sadness, the missing, the emptiness, the heartache...they are all very much alive within.  That is who I am now, whether people see it or not.  This is my life now.  
     As I type these last words, I realize it is exactly 3 years (10:30 pm) since I last spoke to, and saw, my Ryan alive on this earth.  I miss him more then I can express...