I wonder

What would have become of your life? I know you wanted to get married someday. And I know you wanted to marry Rory. I know you wanted me to be the one who walked you up the aisle to the alter to wait for her. I found out about that after you were taken. Why me? Does that mean that you were able to tell how much I loved you, even when I got on you for the time you cheated on a test in middle school? When we talked about how much I appreciated that you were honest with me but that you knew it wasn’t okay. Or when you decided that drinking in high school was cool. No. It wasn’t. Or maybe when you were fighting with your dad and Tina? You knew I had your back when appropriate but you also knew that I was going to tell you when you needed to get your shit together. You knew how much I loved you even when I had to constantly nag to keep your bathroom clean. Or not keep food trash in your room.

But if you were still here…what would be happening in your life? You’d be 20. Would you and Rory still be talking about getting married sometime in the next couple of years?

Would you have someday given me the most gorgeous grandbabies anyone ever saw? I don’t care what other people think of their grandbabies. The ones you’d have given me would have been the most beautiful. Those gorgeous eyes. The lashes. That smile with those dimples. Would they have dark hair like you? Maybe they would start dark and then go blonde before going back to dark like you did. Would they be as stubborn as you? Holy shit. I don’t think those kids would stand a chance of not being stubborn.

What kind of grandma would I have been to your babies? I still have your brother, of course, if he chooses to have them. But I think about yours. The ones you wanted but didn’t get to have.

Who would I have been had I not been changed by grief? Who would I have been had I not been consumed by this overwhelming feeling of depression and anxiety? Sometimes I don’t know if I can do this. Sometimes I wish I could just lay down and sleep until the day that I find out if I will see you again. Sleep until the day that I find out if I will get to hug you again. I truly don’t know if I can do this sometimes. Most days, most times, if someone is seeing me smile, it isn’t a true smile. It isn’t a smile from happiness.

That isn’t to say that it never happens. But most days…most times…

How can I be happy without you here? How can I be happy without your hugs…smiles…love…laughter? How can I be happy without my firstborn baby here? When life has been so fucking cruel to you? To all of us?

I fucking loved watching you grow up but I hate that it was taken from you just as you hit adulthood. Just as you were finding yourself. Just as you were making plans for your life. Who would I have been if I had been able to continue building a relationship with my adult child?

Who would your brother be if he weren’t dealing with grief? If he weren’t dealing with the loss of his only big brother? He’s never known life without you. Who would he be if you were still here? If he grew up with a big brother as a role model like he did for the first 12 years of his life. If he had you to look up to as he continues to grow up. Someone to teach him things that he might not want me to teach him.

Who would I be if I wasn’t feeling myself spiral into nothingness? Who would I be if I wasn’t completely lost in the grief of missing you? Who would your brother be if he wasn’t struggling to learn how to live without you in our lives?

Who would you have been if you were still here?