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.
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