Certainly, obviously, that is not how it feels with losing a child.
The worst thing happened on June 16, 2010 when Miles died. And the worst thing continues to be happening each day--he's not here. He's not here today. So the worst thing continues to be happening each day. With time, that doesn't change--I just "get used" to how that pain feels, incorporating it in who I am, how I live.
Every day is happy yet hard in its own way.
Yesterday, I saw a friend's little boy who I know was born just a few weeks after Miles. I looked at him, and he looked at me. "That's how big Miles should be," I thought. "That's how skeptically Miles should be staring at a stranger." I smiled. And then later I cried. And a few thoughts come to mind...
One is an epitaph but the sentiment applies to me, too...
"Step softly, a dream lies buried here."
Now Miles is in my heart and in who I am as a mother, a person, a spirit. And there's so much joy in having had him for the short time that we did. And the pain of the rest of his life unlived is right there, right under the surface for me, waiting to bubble over in tears.
And one from the bible (Philippians 1:3)...
"I thank my God for every remembrance of you."
Yes, these moments each day are painful. Yet there Miles is. He's there in those moments. And I feel so much love for him.