A Mother’s Letter – #3

By Deborah Cross Werner

Dear Jamie,

I lied; I cry inside, privately every day. I still love you and will until the day I die and then we will see each other again. My grief will never end-I will learn how to integrate it into my everyday life.

I am so sorry I will:

Never see you get older than 27
Never see you married
Never see you watch your beautiful bride come down the aisle
Never see your education dreams progress
Never see you buy your first house
Never hold your child
Never see you love your own child unconditionally
Never see you open your own restaurant
Never see your beautiful smile again
Never see you with Morgan and Stephen again
Never again be able to hug you as tight as possible
Never again hear that deep laugh of yours
Never again fall asleep as you explain some super hero plot or football play
Never again watch you dirty every pan in the kitchen
Never again see the complete trust Jak had for you
Never again see your red car pull into the driveway
Never again hear another one of your theories about whatever
Never again see you play cornhole and try to explain why you are so bad
Never again discuss another book we are both reading
Never have a family – you wanted enough for a football game in the backyard
Never again walk with you on the beach and discuss how amazing it is that your wolf is at the ocean
Never hear about another Sunday funday
Never see you do another Billy Goat Trail with Jak
Never again listen to you and dad talk Maryland sports and politics
Never again watch you stand with Stephen and fire up the smoker and cook way too much meat
Never again watch you scrutinize Morgan‘s boyfriends
Never again feel that excitement you radiated when the football season began

There was so much more that could’ve been but can’t be “what hurts the most is never knowing what could’ve been” – Rascal Flatts

I am so sorry!