You know… sometimes the ordinary-everyday mail can still pack quite a punch. I just went outside to collect our mail and the last thing I found under the newspapers and magazines was an envelope from the mortuary. I knew right away it was your death certificate so I handed it to your mother to open carefully. I know it is a big deal because it’s another way to validate your life and the short time you spent with us. I will be honest, I first tried to ignore the significance and even the presence of it based on my fear of becoming to emotional. Most days are difficult enough, I normally try to regulate the amount of reminders I have, not because I want to think about you less, but to simply maintain some level of sanity.
Your mom opened the envelope and out came the death certificate. Nothing I had not seen before, I see them every once in awhile doing tax work. The moment my eyes hit the paper I noticed a box filled in with the text “never married”. The box was the designated marital status section. I could of stepped in front of a train and it wouldn’t of hit me as hard as seeing that did. I felt like I had just taken a baseball bat straight to the chest. I can’t explain how fast I saw the life that could have and should have been. I feel like you were robbed of the only thing I could give you, which is life. Everyone says I should be grateful of the fact you are a Saint in heaven and did not have to go through the trials or tribulations of life, but I do not have the ability to put that kind of spin on losing you. Not even close..
As you know if you are watching over us, my faith has been shattered in a lot of ways. I am having a horrible time trying to maintain the faith I had built up through the last 5-or-so years. I actually found out your mother was pregnant with you just after I finished adult confirmation in the church. Seeing that phrase “never married”, makes me so angry. It is one of the many things you were supposed to be able to experience in your life. Now we are left with a piece of paper, a death certificate, a sad mommy and a father who can’t figure out how to pick up the pieces of his shattered faith. Acceptance is the stage we are trying to achieve. I am glad the state has accepted it, I guess we have not.
I miss you and love you.