Brayce Yourself

Six years ago today.
A Wednesday.

And somehow it’s a Wednesday again… like time circled back just to make sure I remember every detail of the day my life split in two.

Brayce, I miss you in a way that doesn’t soften. Not with time. Not with anything.

How does a parent live without their child?
I’m still trying to figure that out. Navigating this life without you has been hard in ways I can’t even fully explain.

I miss your laugh the way you would make yourself laugh before anyone else even could. I miss you saying things just to get a reaction out of me… and me shaking my head, even when I didn’t want to smile.

I miss our talks.
And now I find myself listening to the music you loved Green Day, Dance Gavin Dance, Yellowcard, and so many more. It’s the closest I can get sometimes… it feels like you’re right beside me, jamming out like you always did.

I miss you in all the ways that matter and all the ways that hurt.

You were protective in a quiet way. You didn’t always show it, but when it counted… it was there. I see that so clearly now.

Six years later and I still can’t make sense of a world that doesn’t have you in it. I just exist in it.

I love you just as fiercely as I always have. That didn’t go anywhere.
Neither did the ache.

I wish I had one more talk. One more laugh. One more chance to look at you and know you’re okay.

I hope somehow you know…
I never stopped needing you.
I never stopped loving you.

Forever your mom 🤍