6 Years

 

August 8th. A day that will always be a black cloud for us. A day unlike any other. The day we had to kiss our son goodbye forever.

 

Our hardest day had continued on from the previous few difficult days. Madox was struggling. Madox was dying. The reality was, there was nothing we could do, except hopefully make it a peaceful transition. I think I initially failed on that end, until his last day and a half. I was trying so hard to ensure the medications were given to him on time, and the max amounts. By the 8th, Madox was not waking up, not speaking, or acknowledging our presence. He was finally no longer suffering. We continued to speak to him. Sing his favourite songs. Read to him his favourite books. All three of us took turns lying next to Madox, caressing his hair, stroking his skin, kissing his cheeks. These memories hurt my heart. Engulfs my mind. Always wishing I could have done more, done something different. I don’t know what those would entail, but it doesn’t stop me from wondering.

 

This year would be the first time I didn’t go to Madox’s plot first thing in the morning. This year we needed to concentrate on and support Valin, who had soccer tryouts midday. I wonder if Valin felt Madox next to him on the field, encouraging him through the day. After soccer, we three went to visit Madox. We always stay a while, sharing happy memories, while privately thinking of the difficult ones. It hurts being out there, but we feel it’s necessary. Usually we invite all Madox’s aunts, uncles and grandparents to join us to release balloons, but this year is different. With the pandemic looming over the world, we felt everyone can remember Madox at home. We also didn’t want to continue the balloon release, knowing how it hurts the earth. We think Madox would be happy with that decision. So instead, we sat by his plot, and reminisced about our past, and cried about the lost future.

 

The days have blended into years. The years continue without you my sweet, but we will never forget the impact you had on our lives and in our hearts. I may not cry everyday anymore, but the ache is constantly felt in my chest. Our memories stay strong in my mind, but I worry the details will slowly slip. I try to forget those 5 months of suffering you endured, but the more I try, the more it snakes into my thoughts. I am endlessly sorry we couldn’t prevent any of this. I am sorry we couldn’t save you. I am so so sorry. You will forever be my favourite little guy.

 

** this photo is a day after diagnosis. You can see the strain on Madox’s face and how is right eye is noticed to be slightly turning in. Something we initially missed***