He was missing. He was missing way before. Way before he became. His place was with us before I was facing secondary infertility and he just did not happen, his place was with us before we moved countries, his place was with us even when we held our first newborn son while mourning my husband’s mother. He was a part of our family before he ever became one. Missing him now is a result of all of it, of him being a part of the US way before his time, the yearning for him then and now, the wishing to see him grow in all the ways, the dreams for him becoming a beautiful human. All of it will remain the missing and the love. New missing will be added on to the heaps of missing and love that has been a part of me, before he was there, before he was growing and before he was growing no more.
His face will always be missing from our family photograph, his wet kisses will never reach my cheeks, his footsteps will never echo in our house, his laughter never fill a room, his voice never call my name and his eyes will never sparkle.
Still, as much as he is missing, he is also there and within and all around too. His presence is the part of me I cannot explain, the part of me that formed and continues to form and grow in the After. The change in me his death brought. I do not remember myself without him. How was I ever complete? How can I be complete when he is not here?
With Love, Tina
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