I didn’t think I would survive the first 5 minutes and here we are at 5 years. In these past 5 years I’ve made no new memories with you but felt your absence in a thousand. I’ve stood where you should be standing daily, and stood where I would never have stood if you were still here.

I miss you every minute and with every breath, but oh do I feel you vibrantly in everything I do! I am so thankful that I, out of billions of other expectant mothers, was chosen to be yours. Even today. Especially today.

It isn’t right or fair and it still doesn’t feel real but I can’t dwell in that anger lest I lose myself in sorrow. Instead, I will live the life you didn’t get to live. I will live every day in your honor not because you would want me to but because you deserve it. You often told me that you wanted to be known for doing something remarkable and you will be because the warrior’s spirit that was placed in you before I ever held you lives on and I will make sure that your name is remembered as a general in this war that you and I are fighting. Your name and the names of the others standing next to you on the front lines on that side will be remembered because their mommas are standing next to me on this side.

We. Will. Win.

We won’t stop until we do.

But today I will pause and I will feel the weight of your absence. I will remember the fierce love that pumped through the veins of your earthly body and reflect on the compassion that flowed along side it. I will focus on what Fentanyl took from me while breathing in the beauty of what the Lord has placed in front of me knowing that the day is coming that I will see you again. I love you to heaven and back and every space in between.