I’m eating a Boston cream donut today.
Boston cream donuts: your favourite kind.
Since your death I’ve eaten too many,
Always an excuse to eat one—or two.
Too many excuses to drink and eat.
Today’s your birthday in Heaven at 38
Where you’ll continue to age,
But here on earth, forever 36.
Always 36.
In my solitude I insert candles in the donut,
Between my tears I light two wicks:
One for each birthday you’ve missed on earth.
I make a wish—a wish that’ll never come true—
And blow out flickering flames.
Happy birthday in Heaven, sweet son.
Happy birthday, Matthew, my cherubic babe.
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I’m sorry for your pain, sweetie. Time is a great healer. Don’t forget those all around you as you think of the one who is gone. Hugs
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I’m so sorry. It’s just really hard. Hugs, Becky
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Rebecca, thank you for reading and commenting. I checked out your blog (I’m now following it), not realizing you’d lost a child (two), as well. One of your posts resonated–how the second year is worse. And how right you are! I’m not two months into the start of the second year and it’s like he died all over again and I’m finally grieving the way I should have the first year. I can’t imagine ever getting over this. I can’t imagine feeling this way for the rest of my life. I just want to deaden the pain.
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