3 years, 3 months, and 19 days

Today is March 6, 2024. It’s been 3 years, 3 months, and 20 days since I last saw you or got one of your hugs. I’d love to say that I’m improving, but the misery is always there, running in the background. I’ve tried to reach out to someone…ANYONE…who might help ease this pain, but all I’ve found so far are dead ends. God and church don’t do anything for me. The “Letters to Zachary” guy couldn’t help me either. Even talking about you in a grief podcast gave me no comfort. No matter where I’ve looked, I can’t seem to find any relief from the pain.

I talked about you on the “Always Andy’s Mom” podcast, which I thought would be a good thing. There was no comfort in it. Just another bereaved parent, like me. But the one thing she did let me do was talk about you. And right now, I need anything that connects me to you. I look at your ashes constantly, and it kills me inside. You were so full of life, and now…it’s all gone. The only thing that remains is the pain. It’s incurable except for my own death, which inches closer every day.

I’m sorry, Randy. You definitely deserve better than to be remembered only for how you left us. I want to carry on your legacy and memory so badly, but I’m still so broken. I honestly still haven’t accepted the fact that I’ll never see you again in this life. There’s finality, but no closure. It’s a chapter of my life that I can’t close. I know I’m just venting now. But if anyone understands, I know it’s you. I’d like to think you’d be missing me too, if I had been the one to go…

Make no mistake, son…there’s NO FATHER out there who loves their child more than I love you. I miss you. I know that whatever happens, we’ll be together again, even if it’s just an eternal sleep. I’ll sleep right by your side…I love you, Randy 💜♾️ beyond forever.