There is no healing. There is only coping.

I wish I was sure. I wish that I was sure like those who have a faith in god. In religion. In an afterlife. I wish that I was SURE that I would see my son again.

I know enough to admit that I don’t know.

To be honest with you, even those who say they are sure aren’t truly sure. It isn’t possible. None of us have actually seen what happens when we die. Even a near-death experience can be explained by science. They didn’t truly see “the white light”.

Is there something there? Do we see our loved ones again? Will I have the chance to see my son again? My baby? I don’t know. And neither do you.

What I do know is that I feel him.

Everywhere.

At home. When I am out. I feel his presence. I am reminded of him at all times. I see things. I hear things. I feel things. All of them remind me of him. Help me feel him.

It isn’t just the things around the house that we have done to remember him. Carter and I chose together to have a “Bryce wall”. Carter picked this wall because he wanted to see it as soon as he came inside from school every day.

It isn’t just the shelving with his ashes and the box where I displayed the pocket square that he wore at his memorial, the hat that he had on his hip during the accident, or the rock from the vigil site that all three of us parents signed.

I feel his presence in every sunset streaked with purple, like the one I saw in my mirrors on my way home from work tonight.

I felt him while I listened to a random bird singing tonight outside of my home as I watched the faintly purple-streaked sunset.

I feel him with every breath I take.

I feel him with every beat of my heart.

My heart and his were once connected. And they still are. They always will be.

As long as my heart beats, I will be missing my baby.

As long as my heart beats, it will be beating while broken.

There is no healing from this for me. There is only coping. There is only learning how to live without him in my life. There is only coping with the idea that the baby that I created is now gone. That his life was taken from him before he had the chance to truly start living.

As long as my heart is beating, I will be missing Bryce.

As long as my heart is beating, I will love my Bryce.