Today is a tough day. I sit at my desk, busying myself with the unimportant, while the undercurrent within me threatens to surge, up through my pounding heart,through my tight throat that fights back with jolted swallows - all the way up into my face, overflowing - my eyes, the tiny openings through which all the feelings will brim over.
Tomorrow marks exactly three years since Shiloh left us. Since I have not held his warm hand or fallen into the warm dark pool of his shining eyes. Of course it is unfathomable not to have my son here with me. It is the stuff of nightmares, and horror films pale in comparison. To even put in black and white the word 'death' - it is so difficult. So very unnatural.
So the only way to approach the reality that faces me is to remember. To celebrate the short time we had. To laugh and smile and hug those who are still here. We all miss him. We all will remember. Always.
I've dragged out an old poem because it is my best tribute to my amazing Shiloh.
If you were a farmer you’d plant pumpkins
Huge orange nuclear blast pumpkins!
If you were a singer you would wear a white suit and carry a shiny ebony walking stick
You’d have a purple satin handkerchief in your pocket on display
And you’d wear a fedora to match the suit
You would tip the hat forward and wink at all the ladies as you took over the stage…
If you were a bird you would soar higher than happiness
And deeper than 6 oceans
You would grace the sky of my mind with indigo paint brush wings
Touch my cheek so briefly and float on past
Making speed look like a breeze
If you were pink candy floss
You would melt and still be crunchy in my teeth
Fresh and warm and comforting
But you would disappear if I tried to hold you
On my tongue
I would be left with the remnants of u
You cannot be held
You are more than man and mountains below u are small
Though I can’t see u
I feel your red sports car energy
With a yellow lightning stripe down your soul that can only be glimpsed as you
Pass in an instant...