Other moms and dads who’ve lost a child know what I mean.
That precious being that gave our life meaning is gone. And now we do things like talk to them out loud. In the car. In our homes. While walking the dog. And sometimes in the grocery store.
We ask our child questions. We ask them to watch over their friends. We ask them for strength to deal with not having them there. We tell them how much we miss them and have bat-sh*t crazy one-way discussions on things we’re trying to figure out.
We ask for a sign that they are out there somewhere. We chuckle under our breath when we are sure they’ve had a hand in some mystery that can’t be written off as a coincidence.
We want to believe they can hear us. We want to know they are watching over us. We want to believe there is some existence after death.
And we have to have faith that our conversations are being heard. Because the only problem with talking to the air is that it doesn’t talk back.