Two Months
February 2... You passed away on December 2. How is it that time can feel like it's flying by, yet creep so slowly? It seems like an eternity since I last heard your voice, witnessed your laughter, or watched you walk down the stairs. And yet, it feels as if it all just happened yesterday.
The paradox of time is haunting. I hate the reminders—those calendar days etched with the painful memories of your accident and passing. These are things a parent shouldn't even have to think about. The weight of these dates bears down on my heart, a constant reminder of a reality I wish I didn't have to face.
As a parent, I find myself grappling with the unfairness of it all. These dates shouldn't exist in our world, and yet, here they are, marking the painful moments I would give anything to erase. The relentless passage of time is a cruel companion, emphasizing the void left behind.
Despite the ache in my heart, I hold onto the memories of your laughter and the joy you brought into our lives. It's a bittersweet dance between the pain of loss and the warmth of the love we shared. In the grief, I find solace in cherishing the beautiful moments we had together, even as I grapple with the harsh reality of your absence.
I just miss you. It's really that simple, Samson. My heart aches, longing for your company again. I yearn for just one more day with you, to bask in your smile and relish the sound of your laughter. That infectious laugh of yours – oh, how I miss it.
The emptiness you've left is beyond words. I find myself craving the joy you effortlessly brought into every room. I wish you could have seen the amount of kids that showed up to the hospital for you. Your Celebration of Life was overflowing with people. If you could have seen it, you would have been blown away. Everyone shared the same sentiment – you had this incredible ability to brighten every space you entered and bring a smile to those around you. You were a walking joy, and to me, Samson, you were my joy.
Dad, Gabe, and I won't let your name fade. Thoughts of you consume us constantly. You're all that occupies my mind, from the moment I wake up until I finally sleep. Samson, we love you so much. You were the piece that held our family together, and now there's a void—a hole that will never be filled. You were truly one of a kind, and I'm at a loss on how to move forward without you.
I find myself wondering how to carry on without your presence. The future seems daunting without your laughter and warmth. I hold onto the hope that you'll be the one to greet me in heaven, that it's your familiar face that will bring me up. The thought of our reunion brings both comfort and a longing ache. I can't wait to hug you again, my boy.
