I miss him.

I miss him.

Not in that "man this sucks" way.

I miss him in the "oh my god, my heart shatters, my body aches, I am broken" way.

~~~

So begins my season of grief.  There isn't a single day since Colton died that I don't miss him.  He's always that little thought in the back of my mind.

As anyone who has lost someone they love knows, though, we have specific seasons of grief.  And so starts mine.

October really "kicks off" the season (for lack of a better term).  October brings Halloween, the first of many fun, happy, child and family focused holidays.  It is a day that I'll take my kids out and we'll laugh and joke and play.  And there will be a gap.  A missing puzzle piece.  There will be a soldier, Captain America, Hulk, Frankenstein ... missing from my group.  I will wonder what Colton would have chosen to be.  I will look at the hundreds of four-year-olds and think with yearning "that should be Colton".  I will think of his preschool party. Preschool.  He should be going now, into a classroom, preparing to start kindergarten next year.

After this passes then will start my loss period of grief.  A few weeks from now will mark the time of his shower.  The memories of my dear friends and their extensive effort to throw me the best party ever.  We celebrated him with so much joy and anticipation, not knowing just a few weeks later we would be crying and grieving. For some reason that's one of the hardest anniversaries.  I think I always still wonder how I didn't know. How I could have been so oblivious to what was going to come.

After this passes comes "the week".  The week that, in retrospect, I walked around denying to myself my son was gone.  I can tell you what I did every single day during that period.  Things that were said.  Moments of denial.  I can't tell you much of my life before or after, but those days are so clear. 

Then, of course, comes the day of the conversation.  The day I spoke the words I had been denying. 

"I don't remember". 

I told Brian I was going to the doctor the next day because things felt off and I didn't feel  Colton move.  And he asked "When did you last feel him".  I didn't remember.  Though, I guess I did.  Wednesday afternoon.  Yes, it was Monday by now, but it was last Wednesday afternoon. 

And then Tuesday. The monitor. Silence.  The ultrasound. Screaming. 

And Wednesday.

And Thursday. And silence.

I want this season to be over.  I want October, November, and December to just go by and be done. I want to get past all the painful days and sleepless nights.  I want these anniversaries, his "birth"day, his burial day, Thanksgiving, Christmas, and his due date to just be behind me.  I want a reprieve from the pain, if just for another nine months until it starts all over again.

But isn't that the point? It will start all over again.  I will start my season of grief again next year. And the year after. And ever year until I leave this world and leave a season with someone else. 

I miss him.  I miss him so freaking much.  And I always will.