The idea of another year without Sammy in it feels daunting. But time is a constant. It does not slow down. There is no pause button. It just keeps going. While I feel frozen in time. Trying to hold onto the past. A past that holds my son. While trying to live in the here and now, and look forward to the future. I feel pulled in two. Every minute forward, is a minute further from the moments with my son. The moment I held him. The moment I last heard his voice. The moment I felt his warm breath. Or felt a kiss from his lips. Every moment forward divides us farther. And it is terrifying.
The idea that my son only lives in memories. In photos. In videos. In the stories we tell. Is unspeakable. And every year forward, is one more year his brother grows, but he does not. And soon the little brother will out age the big brother. How does that work? And in that time we will tick towards a moment when our son has been gone from this earth, longer than he existed. And that moment weighs on me. It seems far enough off. But time keeps moving forward.
The ringing in of the new year, puts this burden on my soul. My child should be here. But he is not. And I have to keep looking forward, despite my pull to the past. It is overwhelming. And heartbreaking.
As we look forward to the new year, I just see all the time and space my child should exist. All the dreams we had for him, that went unfulfilled. An entire life, year by year, of missed moments. Watching his peers continue to age, while he stays forever frozen in time. The new year is complicated for the bereaved. I want to stay back, but time pushes me forward. A hostage to time.