A letter to my Son

Truman-

I keep talking about you and saying “the other day.” The day I lost you feels like so long ago. The days following, the hundreds of people in and out over the next couple weeks, your service, they all feel so far away. But, the days before you left feel like yesterday. The time when I last had you just feel so close to me. I can hear you walk down the stairs. I can hear you in your room gaming with your friends. I can hear the click of your keyboard from my room.

I feel like we just had dinner together. I feel like the last time I saw your smirky smile was just yesterday. I feel fortunate to feel your memories. I’m glad I can feel your hair, the warmth of your hugs. I can feel your face. I can hear your voice and your laugh.

But when it comes to your presence it’s staggeringly empty. The hole is enormous. I can’t feel you here. It just feels empty. We turned your strip lighting back on in your room and it feels a little more alive but I walk past it everyday and the void is still consuming.

I talk to you everyday in hopes you will hear my words and feel my love. I write to you often in hopes it will help me feel closer to you. I pray every night you will be in my dreams. So I can hear your voice and feel your embrace. Dreams that feel so real! But I wake up each morning with a ringing in my ears and a heavy weight in my chest. And that void sucks me back in.

This cycle is devastating. Horrendous. Detrimental. I feel my mental health and physical health deteriorating. I know my path. I see the direction I need to go but I just can’t without you. I don’t care about things anymore. I feel like when you left me you left your feelings here too. We just picked them up and carry them with us now.

I see the path. I assume in time I will be able to hop on it. I didn’t see the path a couple weeks ago so I guess that’s progress.

Truman, Tubin, Whoman Hon, Tubes, Tubey, Tru, my boy, my son. I’m trying. I just don’t know how to do this without you.

Your Momma 💙💞💙