It’s been awhile now – and I still think about that day – everyday. Multiple times a day. I look at my son and think about how I will explain it. I am so heartbroken over it – angry over it – and feel angry at myself for being happy. It’s an awful feeling to feel guilty for being happy. And I know he would want it. I know he would. But it is still there – and I suppose it always will be. He will always be a part of me, so I will always miss him. I wish it wouldn’t always hurt – but it does.