Driving by a high school and seeing young men practicing soccer made a lump form in my throat. An invisible hand seemed to grab my heart and squeeze it. Memories of seeing my son on a soccer field tormented me as I recalled those times. He has been gone for seven years and I thought I was over aching for him. Today, the thought that I would never see him again here on earth hit me, as it did when he died. Why today?
As I drove past the field, how I wished time could return to when he played soccer and I cheered for him and his team. He began playing when he was around five years old and played until his mid-thirties. I remember him telling me that playing with younger men was difficult because he could no long keep up with them!
Never again would I laugh at his jokes, enjoy his company, argue with him, travel with him, his cooking on the grill, listen to his stories, have him as my dance partner, having fun or see him loving his children. I even miss those days he made me angry! Those days disappeared with him on October 29, 2016.
I know I have been told that someday I will see him again but right now I would like to hug him tightly and see him once again!
A bunch of kids, playing soccer, brought me once again, to the reality that he is gone forever.
"His death brings a new
experience -- a wound
that will not heal"
Ernst Junger
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