Beloved Son and Brother

Two years ago, you left this world. On that day, our lives and ourselves were permanently changed. It's been a strange journey, since then. As it began, I wandered aimlessly through an agonizing haze with little breaks of light occasionally seeping through the cracks in a changing reality. Over time, the cracks began to widen, and more light came in, illuminating pathways that I hadn't been able to see before. The pain never left, and is with me to this day, but I learned how to navigate through it, accepting it as a permanent part of my life. I accepted your death right away...not because I was okay with it. I accepted what I knew I could not change. I believe that the acceptance is what has allowed me to learn the things I have. I miss you every, every day, but I also thank you for being who you were, and what you are to me now...a gift.

Your headstone arrived earlier than we thought it would. I took your little niece to see it and you. I know she doesn't know what it's about and I know it's just your body in there, but it was the best way I knew how to introduce you to her. Violet is so beautiful and such a light in my life. You would love her, I know you would. And she would love her Uncle George, as everyone seems to. I mean, what's not to love? You were so wonderful. You were so good and so thoughtful. You were so kind and so laid back. Our very own gentle giant. Our George...”Beloved Son and Brother”.

I miss you, baby boy. As I am writing to you from Daddy's dining table, in the place where you lived, I feel you near. As your niece watches Sesame Street with Aunt Wiggy and Grandpa, and the air thickens with your memory, I feel such a strange mixture of sadness and warmth. I hope I never lose these moments with you. I hope you will visit to see my baby grow. I hope to dream of you again. It's been a while. I love you George. Always and forever.