24 Months.

The day is here. The day that means you have been gone for two years. With this day, comes all sorts of emotions. I am exhausted. Exhausted from travelling this journey. Exhausted from always having to tuck away my pain and sadness for the world. Exhausted from missing you. Exhausted from living with the guilt of being your mom and not being able to save you. I am sad, irritated, angry, hollow and most of all numb.
The second year without you was so very different than the first. It was harder. My shock lifted and the realization that you were never coming home, really sank in. The void you left became permanent. I was not prepared for the difficulty of the second year and at times, I fell into the crevice of grief so deep that I had to lie there for a few days. Sabotage myself so I could get through it.
What will the third year bring? I am anxiously awaiting, will it be a year that I will begin a healing journey or will it be harder than last year?
There are so many unknowns with grief. I cannot predict when I will fall and then there are those times which I think will be hard and I won’t get through and yet I do. I know if you were here, you would hate that I was sad. You would hate that I crawl into my bed and stay there and you would do everything to try and fix it.
This year, for you, I will live my life as you would want. I will have new experiences. I will include you in each one. I will take better care of myself for you. I will love myself as much as you loved me. I will do this for you. 
I will speak of you daily and say your name. I will remind everyone that even though we focus on your death – that you lived and your life will be remembered and honoured. 
You are more than a memory.
I love you, Monkey and I miss you more.