My son, my heart

I should be planning your 18th birthday party right now. Instead, I’m planning your memorial.

You should have just finished 11th grade, getting ready for your senior year. I should be celebrating your accomplishments, cheering you on as you prepare for prom, and watching you step into adulthood. But I didn’t even get to see you as a junior.

I didn’t get to see any of the moments I dreamed of. I miss your smile every morning, hearing your voice, hugging you, just being next to you. And now, as I try to prepare for this memorial, I find myself stuck in your room, laying on your bed, crying and wishing you were still here with me.

It was never supposed to be you. It should’ve been me.

I would give anything to have you back. The pain feels too big to carry, and the thought of waiting until heaven to see you again feels impossible some days. Because you weren’t just a part of my life—you were my life.

I love you, and I always will. I don’t know how much longer my heart can bare to be away from you, Samson. I pray it isn’t long.