I first shared this eight years ago so it may shock some folks that while I have finally tossed most of the things in my fridge that once belonged to Dominic, I’ve got a giant bottle of hot sauce I’m still using. Every time I add spicy flavor to chili I think of him. I’m not looking forward to the day it runs out because it will be one more link dissolved between the living son I knew in the flesh and the memories I have to settle for now.❤

Those hours before I planted one last kiss on my son’s forehead, I held his hand.   I nodded at the people filing past to pay their respects with my arm tucked behind me, desperate to cling to my child. And I’m still clinging.   I will not let him go.   I don’t care how many days or months or years march on taking me further from the sound of his voice, the touch of his hand or the brightness of his smile-I refuse to release my grasp.

Ninety miles an hour-that’s how fast my mind can go from here to there. From what’s in front of me to what’s behind me. From laughter to swallowing sobs.