Five years after my son’s death, I am doing okay. There are times when I start to cry without even thinking about Jon. Sometimes, I see or hear something that may bring a few tears and a memory; other times I cry without any prompt.
It’s not something I worry about. I think grief has become part of me, as my son is part of me. Both are with me, as one goes with the other. I celebrate Jon’s life and I am proud he is my son. I say “is my son” because he didn’t stop being my son when he died. He is my son who died, too young, too soon.