One of the most difficult things to explain to anyone who has not buried a child is this: I didn’t just lose Dominic ONCE, I continue to lose him.
I lose him every single time there is a moment when he SHOULD be here but isn’t.
I lose him when his friends graduate, get married and have children.
I lose him again on Christmas morning when HIS face isn’t around the breakfast table and HIS name isn’t on the presents around the tree.
I lose him when I need to call and ask a question about my computer or need his opinion when trying to make a decision.
I lose him when everyone else is making their way home for the holidays or a birthday or just a visit-his car never rolls up the lane, his smiling face never emerges, his arms never reach out to wrap me in a bear hug.
I lose him when his siblings line up for photos-the space where he SHOULD be but ISN’T looms large.
I will never know the joy of standing at his wedding.
I will never be able to congratulate him on his first court victory.
I will never see his children
I won’t have his companionship in my old age.
He is gone-out of reach.