Dear Andrew,

We lit a candle for you as part of the wave of light. The second year we've marked missing you. It feels strange to think it's been nearly 17 months. Where does the time go? It feels like yesterday and simultaneously like a decade ago. If I were to go to a meeting I could be the mother there that is longest bereaved. I am no longer new to this which shocks me. How did it suddenly become 17 months later? When did I stop sobbing at your grave? When did the raw emotion become a dull ache?

I remember when we first lost you the pain was overwhelming. Part of me shut down as I couldn't cope. I'd spend my day walking out to Glasnevin to spend time with you. I'd spend my evenings crying and sometimes drinking. I was only able to sleep if I had been drinking. It dulled me to the world. To my new reality. Truth be told those first few months are a blur.

Eventually I started to come out of the fog. To live with my new reality and embrace the pain. It's never left me since the day we lost you. I'm able to function and go on with my life but it will never be the same. There is always the part of me missing that died with you that day. The part that will never come back.

For losing you and losing part of myself I lit the candle this year. To be out of the fog and living again but still missing you with my whole heart. And always wondering what could have and should have been....

 

Dear Andrew,

What a difference a year makes.

Today is the Holles St remembrance mass in your church.  We are heading over with Liam in toe.  So different to last year where we had only lost you a few months earlier.  The whole affair was filled with tears and heartbreak.  While I'm sure there will still be tears and there is always heartbreak it will be comforting this year to have your brother with us.  He gives us a little bit of light and happiness that has been missing since we lost you.

I went to visit you today on my own.  It's something I don't get to do too often anymore.  It was nice to spend some time just the two of us.  I brought you some autumn decorations for your box and had a little chat.  On this lovely overcast morning I sat and had a one sided conversation with you.  And it was needed.  I miss you everyday.  I think about you everyday.  But life is starting to get in the way of spending quality time with you.  It's not necessarily a bad thing.  I can't always be filled with the overwhelming sadness that comes with being fully immersed in you.  I need to live in the moment and enjoy your brother who is here with us.  But occasionally it's nice to just sit in the cemetery and talk to you.  To give you the time and attention you deserve.

I miss you and love you baby boy.  I think about you everyday.  But you already know that...