1,345 days later

I woke up today and didn't want to get out of bed. I went through the morning. Got ready, took the dog for a walk, had chai with mom. Went to work, went from meetng to meeting. But my mind wasn't there. It's still not.

Sometimes the pain is so unbearable I don't want to get out of bed. Other times, its just there. Like my heartbeat. Its softly prodding, reminding me that it will be my constant companion.

"How come you didn't protect me? You promised to always take care of me."

I know, I KNOW ...I remember our conversations quite clearly. I would talk to you as I laid on the rug. The ultra soft one that wouldn't do anything but protect you, encase you, offer you a soft cushon as you learned how to walk. I remember your small ishaara's in response to my questions and my teasing. I remember how quiet you would get when I would put those headphones on for you to listen to. That was my favorite...you were so quiet and paying such rapt attention and yet I knew that you enjoyed it. It's my most treasured memory of our time together.

I'm sorry. I'm sorry I didn't protect you. It's my greatest failing. Perhaps, I simply didn't deserve you.

I'm not sure if you can ever forgive me, I'm not sure if I can ever forgive myself. But I know that even when surrounded by everyone, family and friends...I'm still there...bereft without you. Your my constant companion, my constant reminder that once I failed and quite badly.

Sometimes I hear a cry and wonder...what would you sound like? Sometimes I go into the department store and pick up a scent, something that that makes me think...would he smell like this? I never got to touch you, I never got to see you, I never got to hold you, I never knew what you smelled like.

I went into the basement last night, I stood at the bottom of the stairs and stared at the boxes holding all the hopes, the dreams, the beginnings and memories I had started in anticipation of your arrival. I can't seem to give them to anyone else. I can't seem to share them with even mom. Everyone keeps telling me that I need to move on, that I need to give them to someone who needs all that stuff. But NO they were your things...how can I possibly allow others to derive pleasure from that which was and will always be yours?

Ya Allah, I missed all of it. I'm so sorry I didn't protect you. I'm sorry I couldn't save you.