No matter how busy I try to stay, there is still so much time that drags by that all i can do is think about how much I miss him. I remember at the funeral people telling me to stay busy. I guess this is the time that I should stay busy. Sometimes there just isn't anything left to do. So I sit and think about him. How he looked. How he talked. How he smelled. And I grieve. I guess this is what I am supposed to do. It takes so much energy though. If he were here right this very minute he would be in his garage working on a car. I might not be talking to him but I would be able to hear the sounds coming from the garage.
So I am making a memorial book for our son. I have written to everyone that came to the funeral and asked them to write down memories they have of him. I think I will pay to have it published. They are slowly tricking in through the mail and I love reading them. What other people remember of him. Or something he said. It keeps him alive. Oh how I miss him!
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