This is not my son’s first birthday. It’s the first birthday since he died. He would have been 21.
Years ago, I dreamed we would be in a better place with Charles–with his depression and addiction. His sleep disorder, his anxiety, his ADHD. We worked so hard at it.
Instead we are grappling with his suicide. I still can’t believe it some days.
As I look back, I see things I didn’t see before.
I can’t even tell you how much I miss him. How much this hurts. I know you know that.
His birthday is my connection to him … Read more...