He was so perfect.
He really was too good to be true.
And now he seems like a dream; a glorious dream I never want to wake up from because I am so afraid I will forget.
I don't want to forget one thing about my angel-boy. Nothing. But just
like a dream, it seems so easy to forget and it terrifies me. I find
myself desperate to balance the memories and life of my baby but also
have some relief from the pain and it doesn't work. I either remember
him; every remarkable detail, including the pain of him being gone or I
am numb and he is little more than a faint dream. I can't have it both
ways and every day is like a pendulum as I swing from one extreme to the
other.
He is so worth every excruciating heart break and more.
He truly was heaven on earth; while I would give almost anything to have
him back for even one minute, it seems right that he is where he is. I
marvel when I think of how he must be in his full perfection. I cannot
wait to walk through those pearly gates, kiss Jesus' feet and then see
my perfect little boy.
I miss him so much.
I miss the way he felt in my arms.
His soft skin and his silky hair and his perfect, round head.
I miss his kisses and snuggles.
I miss his laughter.
I miss his dancing.
My angel-boy. My heaven on earth.
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