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.