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I Miss You, Beautiful Boy

on 14 July, 2018

The very last thing I think about after crawling in bed is the hope that I don’t wake up the next morning. But morning comes and I am still in this life.

I make up little tasks to give me a goal to get to. Something that, at least temporarily, occupies my mind. They are really meaningless, in and of themselves, but I guess it keeps me breathing. For another day, anyway.

I slowly whittle away the days with “goals” that I can take aim for – a day, a week, a few weeks – anything that helps get me through another day. The biggest and by far the most important is the customized urn for Streeter’s ashes.

I think about his urn. And his ashes. And his photos and his schoolwork and all of his treasures and wonder what will become of them. He was an only child for me and I have severed all ties to my siblings, so there is no where and no one to pass these things down to. What will become of him when I am gone? And what will become of me and that which has made up my life?

I am so sad. It is beyond words to try and describe it. I really feel like there is no reason for me to take another breath. Or to wake tomorrow morning.

Streeter's Mom Final


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