The hard part about all of this is, I never got to tell him goodbye, or that I loved him. Not only did I lose my son I had also lost everything that was his. I didn't even have a picture of him, because that also had burned up. Thanks to my family and friends they were able to find a few pictures of him and give them to me. But mostly what I have are memories.

I don't blame God. I did question him, but never blamed him. A friend of mine, gave me a gift at the funeral. It was a white cherub, with blue eyes, holding a Teddy bear. wraped in red tissue paper. The minute I saw it, it reminded me of Kevin. That is why I collect cherubs. It, in a way, is a part of my healing. It is something I must do. It is not only therapy, but the way I say that I remember him.

When my son died, apart of me died too. That is a part that I doubt will ever be full again. It was a true struggle to pick up the pieces and go on. But somehow I did. With each day that passes, I think I am finally coming to terms with his death. But then one day, out of the blue, it hits me again. The tears fall, and the pain, the guilt, and longing all hit hard. But then next day comes and I put the pieces back together and find the strength to go on, till the next time.

It is kind of like you build this wall to protect you from the pain, guilt, and longing. Well no matter how high you build it, the day comes when your wall will crumble and fall. The next day you find the strength to start rebuilding, till it crumbles down again. It is a never ending cycle. The best you can hope for is that from the time you rebuild to the time it falls, your wall will stay up longer.

I read somewhere that it takes at least five years to get over your child's death. I don't think I will ever truly be over it. I may learn to deal with it better. But this time of year is always hardest for me. Kevin died on Nov. 24 1995, the day after Thanksgiving. Then I have to deal with Christmas. And the fact he won't be opening any presents. Then in January is his birthday. Once I make it through these 3 months. I am able to regain control, and rebuild my wall.

Kevin is buried in Columbus, IN and I have moved back to Baton Rouge, LA. I sometimes feel guilty because I can't go put flowers on his grave. To let him know I still think of him. But I do go buy or make something that I might have put on the grave if I could. I also had a quilt made from the ribbons of this funeral flowers. My Aunt Joyce made a lovely baby quilt for me. Which also has it's own stand.