I sat at your tree
14 April 2023
I sat at your tree and watched as the clock in your car turned to 12.03am, the time the first call was made to 000.
Every anniversary is the same yet hauntingly different.
Like clockwork, the memories come flooding back all at once, playing on repeat, and I’m standing in the corner of every memory, watching every haunting moment unfold.
I’m instantly taken back to that moment I hear my phone ring and I answer the phone call that no parent ever wants to get.
I watch myself as I’m waiting so desperately for you at the hospital.
The hospital carpark begins to spin as I’m watching our family, and your friends crying.
I watch myself walking behind the doctor as he takes me to see you.
I’m crying as I’m watching myself stroke your cheek and run my fingers over your hair as I kiss your forehead.
My insides are screaming, and it feels like I’m being tortured.
I closed my eyes six years ago only to open them to a world I wish I could forget.
My beautiful boy, I was supposed to have you for my whole life.
I can’t breathe without you.
I love and miss you beyond words, Jack.