Today marks 6 months.

December 1st was the last day I saw my son. It was the last time I gave him a hug and a kiss goodbye.

December 1st was the last time, I looked into Ryan’s eyes , held his face and told him I loved him. 15 weeks ago, I left this house in a state of panic and sheer desperation.

15 weeks later I return, exhausted and fractured.

If I close my eyes tightly, I can almost pretend that we are back in time.

“Mommy, can I go out and play? Please????? I promise I’ll do my homework as soon as I get in.” …..

“Mom, I can’t find my cleats. Did you wash my soccer stuff? Can you please not yell out during my game? So embarrassing.” ……

“Mother..mother.. Heather, what are we having for supper? Hmmmm, well I’m not sure I’m gonna be home. Why don’t you make something I like?”…..

I can hear him. I listen for the sounds of his laughter. I look for the heavy footsteps on the floor. I can smell his Axe body spray and the odor of rugby gear.

I see traces of him everywhere.

The discarded clothes, the medals from sports and pictures of him fill my vision. I see him in the way the girls tilt their heads, or try not to smile while telling fibs. I dream of him lying beside me with stories to tell and books to read. I feel his hugs and his soft breath as he leans in to kiss my cheek.

But my eyes can’t stay closed forever.

Those are just memories. It’s all I have left.

6 months… a life time ago.