Every day, and I mean EVERY day, I think of my son. I wonder at what he would look like, being a little over two years old. How he would be toddling around the house, getting into all kinds of things he shouldn't. I see him in the carseat in the backseat of my Beetle where I currently have a cute purple stuffed bunny seatbelted. The bunny I got for Drayke for Easter last year after he had passed.
I go shopping and find a romper that is so cute with a moose and the words "Wild Thing" on it. Then I notice a little number logo that has a "28" on the shoulder. His birthdate. It is so perfect for the lil man I see in my minds eye. I fight the urge to buy it every time I walk into the store. I think he would fit perfectly in the 24 month size. It is only $6 but I fight the urge, knowing it would only be folded and added into his dresser with his other unworn clothes.
My mom told me something the other day she had told my sister. "What will happen to Lorri if Drayke doesn't make it?". My mother responded "She will die. And you have. Your body just hasn't caught up to your heart". She is right. I am just going thru the motions of living but I feel my soul, the core of my being, has been lost. It has been more than a year and a half since Drayke died and I feel as alone and desolate as the day he passed.