I try to block it out. I try to keep busy. But it won’t go away. It will never go away. I think I am doing okay, and then something triggers the waterfall of tears. Shouldn’t they all be gone by now? It’s been almost 16 years, but the tears will never be gone. I look at a picture of my two sons, taken just a few months before Evan died from meningococcal disease.
I think, I wish, that I had more pictures. How was I to know that I missed opportunities to capture the special bond between two brothers who loved each other more than you can believe? I thought I had a lifetime for pictures, for memories, but I didn’t. And now, I can’t go back and get more pictures. I have to live with the memories and what pictures I have. I share the picture with my daughter-in-law, who never knew Evan. She is angry that this disease took away her chance to meet her husband’s brother and for her children to have Uncle Evan around. My husband and I just want our son back, and it will never happen. My family will never be complete.