Even for a writer, expressing our deepest secrets of souls may be completely devastating when it comes to the brutal and cold shaped truth. The pain that comes after the loss of a child cannot be easily turned into any word… Any word cannot express the sharpness of that sword.

For a moment, it feels like we have lost our son yesterday, and in another blink, like billions of lifetimes has already passed away… The time is not something that can be correlated in any way with burying a child. And you know what? The time doesn’t heal all wounds. That probably invented someone who hasn’t gone through this paralyzing nightmare come true…

Why have I even tried to express myself through words when nothing of this can describe the feeling of emptiness after my son’s death? I decided to do this for his pure and brave soul. Such a battle… From such a fragile entity… I haven’t seen that anywhere before. It cannot be measured with all those famous historical battles, no… They didn’t have that look in their eyes. Frightened? Yes, he was very frightened. I remember that one moment I somehow knew he was saying goodbye. Although, it didn’t even tend to happen then… I just felt our connection and was very concerned later that day.

As time moves on, it seems like how my son is slipping further away by each day. People who surround me and my husband have in some form forgotten him and barely even speak of his name. I don’t judge them, it is not their battle to be fought. But it hurts… It deeply hurts.

Many others started pointing their fingers with some stories full of advice on in which ways we should and should not live, or what we should do to forget our beloved angel. To forget him? As long as my lungs are breathing and as long as my heart is not giving up, he will live through me.

It is the truth of how some wounds are dug so so deep… Those voids are all in all meant to be here for the long stay.

How and when will I choose to rise up and live again once more? Probably, I won’t. I am not and cannot be the same person I was once before. I miss myself, I must admit. But I don’t miss myself even one percent as I miss him. I still wonder why his page stood left blank and unwritten…

I wondered about how I will sing him a lullaby to sleep… I wondered how we will pick the flowers from the most beautiful gardens… I dreamt of those moments where we will just hug each other and laugh deeply, with pure love and nothing else… For me, that was the world.

He was supposed to sit on my lap and not feel any pain or not know about any trouble that exists in this world. Instead, my little warrior met it all in just a half a year and I wasn’t even able to save him from that horror.

Many ask me if I am angry ”at God”. That’s really a silly question. I am not angry at God. I am not the ruler of this entire existence that surrounds us. I just want to say how bad things don’t happen to someone else. Sometimes, we are someone else.