It’s hard to believe that two months have passed since our world was shattered. Time seems to have moved both quickly and slowly, the days stretching endlessly yet slipping by with little to show for them. Our boy, our heart, was taken from us in an instant, and in those moments, our lives were forever changed. Every day since has been a struggle to adjust to a world that feels incomplete without him. The void he left is palpable, and every corner of our home reminds us of the joy he once brought.
The ache is constant, but it has changed in subtle ways. Some days, the pain feels fresh, as if it just happened yesterday. Other days, it lingers quietly in the background, but never completely disappears. We try to keep busy, to distract ourselves from the overwhelming grief, but there are moments when everything stands still, and all we can do is remember him. The quiet moments are the hardest, when we are forced to face the silence where his laughter used to be.
Two months without him has taught us so much about ourselves, about grief, and about love. The love we had for our boy hasn’t faded; if anything, it has grown stronger, deeper, and more profound. It’s a love that transcends physical presence. Even though he is no longer here in body, we still carry him with us in our hearts. He was more than just our child—he was part of our very essence, and that part of us will never be the same again.
At times, it feels as though the world has continued on without him, and we are left behind. People go about their lives, carrying on with their routines, while we are still here, grappling with the enormity of our loss. It’s hard not to feel like we are stuck in a time warp, forever trapped in those final moments before he was taken from us. Everyone else seems to be moving forward, and we are left trying to navigate an existence that no longer feels familiar.
There are days when we allow ourselves to break, to cry without shame. The tears come when we least expect them—when something reminds us of him, or when we are alone with our thoughts. We don’t know when the pain will lessen, or if it ever will, but we know it’s okay to feel it. Grief is a reflection of the love we had, and we know that it’s something we must work through, one tear at a time.
Sometimes, we find ourselves talking to him, as if he’s still here with us. We ask for signs, for reassurance that he is okay, wherever he is. The hope that he is at peace, that he feels loved, is the only thing that keeps us going. We find comfort in these little moments, when we allow ourselves to believe that his spirit surrounds us, watching over us and guiding us through the darkness.
Though two months have passed, it still feels like we are in the early stages of this journey. There’s no manual for navigating this kind of loss, no right or wrong way to grieve. But we know we have to find a way to move forward, for ourselves, for him. We know he would want us to keep living, to honor his memory by continuing to be the people he loved. He may no longer be physically present, but his spirit will forever guide us.
As we reach this painful milestone of two months, we are reminded of the fragility of life, of how quickly it can all change. But we also hold on to the love we have for our boy, a love that death cannot take away. His memory will continue to live on in everything we do, in the way we cherish each other, in the way we appreciate the small, beautiful moments in life. And although the journey ahead will be filled with challenges, we know that we carry him with us, and that will always be enough
