I have two sons. A.J. and Patrick. Aaron James was born April 14th 1983 and Patrick Donovan was born April 25th 1985. Aaron with chestnut hair, stunning green eyes. He gets his complexion from his father. His skin holds a touch of olive. People always assume he is Italian. He stands about 6 feet tall, as his father does. Patrick was born pale blond and then migrated to a sandy blond, a beautiful sandy blond. Patrick has blue blue eyes. To see his face is stunning like seeing a huskies blue eyes against the bold white fur for the first time. Patrick stands about 5'9".but has my skin, like snow white. Both boys are well built and handsome.

Today I stand all in black. I stand with a black cap and a black veil. I stand in a black dress and black stalkings and in black shoes. I stand in the rain and the cold. The rain drops seem unusually large today, like fat pans of water are being emptied from the sky. They plop louder and louder the longer I stand here. I pretend the sky is crying. I tell the sky it is okay to cry I know how much it will miss my son too. The wind also seems abnormally fierce. I tell the wind the same thing I told the sky. I stand alone. The sun is gone and I am freezing beyond anything I have ever known but I do not care. I DO NOT CARE. Today someone came up to me. A silly little man came up to me and spoke untruth. A person such as himself would never know that everything is going to be okay. He would never know what it is like to believe so much in the statement, "no parent should have to bury their child." He has had no children. He has seen no child made by him, raised by him, succeed in front of him,make him so proud. He has never spent a Christmas with that child, gave that child a kiss goodnight, cradled that child when he cried. He has never been awaken by his child on an Easter morning or taken care of his child. He cannot remember, he has no memories. He has no memories of tubby time, dirty diapers, rushed visits to the hospital room for swallowed coins. He has no memories to deal with later, after his child is gone.

How this feels cannot be put into words. Saying things like I feel I could just die, or a piece of my heart is gone, or I can't believe he is gone forever just doesn't illustrate the misery of emotions rushing through my bones and sucking out all of the energy that gives me life. I am right now a lifeless body. I am still a mother, wife, sister, daughter, professional, but right now I am nothing.

All the pain I can't handle and I don't know what to do so I just stand here, next to my son. I stand next to Patrick buried deep under foot with sandy blond hair and stunning blue eyes and skin like snow white.

Learn more about this author, Erin Faneuf.
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