I open your laptop, looking for a picture I saved and up pops a video. Your sad eyes stare blankly at the camera as that song plays in the background. It's the song you walked in on me playing when you were about five. You came in my room, rested your head on my shoulder, "what's wrong Mommy?" I assured you I was fine but you responded, "you only listen to this song when you are sad." So amazingly perceptive for five.
Now 18 years old, sad eyes and Evanescence, "my immortal" playing in the background. No tears, I see the sadness in your eyes. There it is, like a punch to the gut it hits me. This isn't a story, this is no movie. You are dead. You will never put your head on my shoulder again. I will never hold you again. Tears flow. The pain engulfs me. Replay, I hear the song again, I see your eyes. I want so much to be with you and I cry out, "I JUST WANT MY SON BACK!" as I curl into the fetal position and smother my face with a pillow and cry.
I begin to wonder if it's okay to give up. Would God understand how much pain I am in? Your sister walks through the doorway to my bedroom. I quickly sit up and wipe my tears. "What's wrong mom?" she asks. "Nothing...." I start to say but decide that she deserves my honesty. "I am missing your brother and overwhelmed by all the changes in my life right now." She hugs me and returns to her room. I know it's not okay to give up.
I can swallow the feelings, ignore the lump in my throat and tell them your story. When I am alone the words rise back up and I choke on them, the grief squeezes at my throat and I can hardly breathe. You are so much more than can be summed up in words. I will never stop writing about you. My Immortal.