The Room

Dear Son,

I went in your room tonight for the first time in over a month-since we lost you.

It smelled like you. It felt like you. It looked just like you would leave it.

I noticed your favorite black cowboy boots and your Vans in your closet. I saw the cans and bottles (some inappropriate for your age, but I will pretend I don't believe you drank what was in them first...).

I saw the 3-D shark model that your Uncle Sean gave you so many years ago when you visited him on Ocracoke. I saw the train sets that had been my grandfather's-I hope you are both enjoying model trains in Heaven together.

I saw the Punisher Skull we bought you just last year and the Route 66 sign hanging on your wall.

I saw your ball caps hanging on your bookcase.

I saw the bow and arrows that you got for Christmas that you never had a chance to shoot.

I saw a life that was not done. I life only partially lived. I felt the heavy weight of all of the future that you will not be here with us for.

I am selfish and I am jealous. I want you here, in our home with your family on earth; I am jealous of God because he gets to see you and touch your face and hug you tight.

Love forever and ever, amen.

Mom