And maybe that is what we are: insane.
Day after 20 painful, tortuous days we walk up hopeful of the new day. Will this be the day we find him? Will I finally be able to see my son and speak his name and look upon him? Will I finally be able to give into grief or will I be overjoyed with hope?
And night after 20 painful, tortuous nights, I lie awake incredibly aware that we haven’t located him. Did we do enough? Did we somehow miss him? Does someone after 3 long weeks have knowledge that places him somewhere else?
And in between the morning and the night is the waiting and the planning and the second guesses.
I don’t know if what we are doing is right….but I don’t know how to do it any other way.
The dogs did not find my son today.
And now I have to uncurl myself from this dark dark place and find the strength to do this again tomorrow.
— at Sun Peaks Resort.