Just when you think you may be moving forward a bit…
Just when gazing at their picture doesn’t cause a swell of sadness and tears, but a soft smile may curve on the face, and the memory feels warm and gentle…
Just when it feels like you can take the next breath without screaming…
SOMETHING happens.
There’s a trigger.
It may be a song you haven’t heard in ages. It may be a visit from one of your beloved’s friends.
For me, it was receiving a stupid magazine with his name on it, at my address. My son moved out almost two years prior to his leaving for Heaven, and we had never gotten this piece of garbage before last month.

WHY?
What evil schemes are afoot, causing this poor mama undue grief and anguish? Who was behind this joke?
At first, I ignored it, thinking it was just an error of some sort. But then came the second copy. That did it. I did call the company, and they really couldn’t give me a solid answer; only that it was a promotional gift, and no name of a person was available to credit.
Do you think it ridiculous that such a simple occurrence would set me off? That I should have just put it in the trash and wiped my hands of the whole matter, and chalked it up to user error?
Well, good on ya, that you are able to have that take on the whole, silly situation. Maybe I am a bit too sensitive—maybe I take these things too seriously. Maybe one day, I will be able to divorce the triggers from the pain.
But not today.
Today, I am deep in the missing and longing for my boy. My beautiful, warm, kind, talented, incredibly intelligent son—my cohort and buddy. He would have been 27 years old on August 11.
What the world has been robbed of, by his not being here anymore…
