I was trying to think of some way that I could mark Christmas this year that would honor my son Jeremy, age 33 who died February 2, 2008. I thought of getting a ring. I thought of buying a candle and lighting it. I tried to think of things that were important to him, but nothing I thought of seemed to be special in its own way. Then a friend of mine suggested that I start a blog and write about my grief and maybe in someway, even though the situations are different, it could encourage someone else who has lost a loved one, especially a child. Being a writer, that appealed to me. So that is exactly what I did.

It is 2:25 am and I'm still awake. That is something that happens a lot. For one thing, I work late some nights at Wal-mart where I am a manager. But even when I have off, I have a hard time sleeping. I sometimes think of all of the times we shared together, my son and I, and sometimes I smile, but most times I cry. It should not be. No child should die before their parent. Oh, I know that he is in a much better place, and for the first time in his life he is probably having a great time, but the problem is, it doesn't stop the pain. I am left behind, and all that I held dear has been taken away from me. Nothing seems special anymore. Nothing seems beautiful. The only thing that warms my heart is the smile of a little child. That and the love of friends and family.

I'll talk more of Jeremy and how he died in my next post. That is a tough one to write through because it still causes me much confusion. Until next time.