I had thought at some point, I’d “get used to” having a smaller family. Like after my son’s death by suicide, it was a matter of adapting to just the three of us. Not that I thought I’d forget or get over it.
While I’ve accepted that my youngest son is gone, it still feels like I’m cheating on him when we get together without him. There is a sense of strange sense of guilt for taking a family photo without Charles. Like they aren’t real. As if my family is an unfinished puzzle and we just need to locate … Read more...