I am downstairs sitting in my recliner watching TV. The recliner is in our little living room right at the base of the stairs. Sometimes I can see J.T. just out of the corner of my eye coming down. I hear the squeak of the third stair and see a flash of blonde shaggy hair. I find myself washed in a sense of relief until I turn to welcome him and find he wasn’t there and the sharp pain of disappointment stabs me back into reality. Do you ever do that?



I am lying in bed lost somewhere in a delightful dream. It is a sunny day and I am walking in a bountiful garden of colorful flowers, butterflies and that sweet smell that signifies Spring. I am looking for something beyond the blooms when I see him. My precious angel walking toward me with that look, that look that means “I want to tell you something!” I begin to move toward him anxious to hear that beautiful secret but I can’t get there and he manages somehow to remain just out of my reach, jolting me awake with frustration. Do you ever do that?



I go upstairs and around the corner to the end of the hall then pause with my hand on the knob to the door that holds the past, J.T.’s room. I open it slowly savoring that familiar smell. Just as he left it, shoes by the bed, his NFL comforter strewn across the bottom bunk and his robe still hanging on the ladder. I stand in the center of the room making slow circles with my body while conversations swim in my head. “Clean your room Bubba, this place is a mess!” I laugh thinking how relieved I am now that he didn’t, it is so much better just like this. I touch everything picturing it in his hand, I open the drawers to find his secret notes and hidden candy wrappers, I lay on his bed and talk to the ceiling whispering my regrets and devotion and for a moment I feel connected and reassured that he was here and he was mine. Do you ever do that?