Some good days, some bad days, some really sad days

Today turned out to be a really sad day, but I wasn't entirely sure why I felt so sad, so bad, aside from the obvious of course. Maybe it was making myself stay seated after hearing the exclamation, "kill me please" from someone fussing at a laptop. Maybe it was when I almost answered the question, "how is your son?" by saying "he died", but then I realized my friend knew that, so she wasn't talking to me. Maybe it was a conversation about hot peppers->wasabi->"Darius Goes West"->disability and race and power. Maybe it was an email about another boy struggling with attachment disorder and his loving mother struggling to help him. Maybe it was the lady at Walmart threatening her fussy little boy while I fought the urge to grab him and run, or simply ask her to just let me love him.

But then it occurred to me. No, it punched me in the chest. Today is 7/22. Tomorrow, if it comes, will be 7/23. One month since I saw him...well, saw his body, in his suit and tie and glasses and Terps cap, holding his Mach 5 and Spiderman, surrounded by Happy Meal toys and HSM3 trading cards. Today is also a Wednesday. Six weeks since I held him. And begged him to hang on, to please stay with me. And told him over and over how I loved him, how we loved him, how he was so dearly, dearly loved and wanted and we would figure it out just please give us more time...