i don’t want this

I don’t like the days that I feel angry. I don’t like the days that the anger mixes with heartbreak. Even now.

Almost 2 years later. Almost 23 months. 1 year, 10 months, and 25 days. 695 days.

695 days since I have heard his voice in person. Seen his smile. Heard his laugh. Had one of his hugs.

As another anniversary approaches, I feel myself changing again. Just like I have for each of the 2 birthdays he’s missed and the Thanksgivings and Christmases, and just like I did for the last anniversary.

I think that it’s possible that people don’t understand that we don’t just lose them once. We lost them that day. But we also lose them with every holiday that they miss…every birthday…every big event…every major milestone in our lives. Over and over again every single year.

Every morning, I wake up and remember that my Bryce is gone. Every day, I go through my day and it is in the back of my mind, even when you see me laughing and smiling. Every night, I go to sleep thinking about how much I miss him. I miss him plopping onto my bed and talking my ear off until my eyes glaze over about his grand plans for his life, even if those plans probably never would have worked. I miss him talking my ear off about whatever he was planning to do with his bike, even though I usually had zero idea what he was saying. I miss him talking to me about his plans with his truck. I miss him chatting with his brother. I miss laughing at him when he’d wake up in the afternoon after working all night and he’d walk into the kitchen with his hair all messy and eyes half open with a goofy look on his face because he was still half asleep. It always reminded me of when he was a baby and he was waking up from a nap.

I miss who I was 2 years ago. I miss the truly happy me. I miss the me with plans that included both of my boys. Seeing Bryce finish growing into adulthood, getting married, and having kids, I miss seeing Carter happy and unburdened with the grief of the loss of his brother. I miss the me that didn’t have to cut out family because I found out how completely unsupportive they were in the worst moments of my life just because they were uncomfortable with grief and my pain. I miss when driving down the far part of Bell Rd was just for the annoyance of heading towards Arrowhead and not because I’m heading to do one of my regular clean-ups of my son’s roadside memorials. I miss when my family photos included both of my children and not just me and Carter with a photo of my oldest child. I miss when I had shelves in the living room that just had happy photos instead of shelves with my son’s ashes and photos for his memory. I miss when we didn’t need a “Bryce wall” in our living room. I miss when I didn’t have to say that I refuse to ever work February 13 or December 23 for the rest of my life.

I want to introduce new people in my life to my son instead of just telling them about him and showing them photos and videos. I don’t want Carter to lose the memories of his brother, and I hate that some are probably already fading. I don’t want Bryce’s niece to know about her uncle instead of actually knowing him because she was so young when he passed and her memories fade. I don’t want the rest of his siblings to have their children after he’s gone so they learn about him instead of getting to be spoiled by him.

I don’t want to live the rest of my life with part of my heart missing.