I need to tell you something…

I sit in front of Sam's wall and talk to the tiny white box hidden away from my sight.
I tell him things about what's been going on in my life. Tell him the same stupid things over and over again…
Mommy loves you…
I miss you so much…

That's always bothered me. That I didn't have some profound conversation with him after I gave birth. All I could say, repeatedly was, "mommy loves you." and "I'm so sorry, baby, I'm so sorry."
And still I have nothing clever or profound to say.

I tell him how his bedroom door has been open for almost a week now. How I opened it a week ago as a test to me. After being closed for over a year I wanted to see if I was ready to walk passed his open door without utter sadness crippling me. I tell him I'm doing better. I'm no longer drawn to my knees in tears and desperation to bring him back. Everything in his room looks just as it did when he was alive. Maybe that's why I closed it because it reminded me of death rather now it reminds me of his life. Mind you I would still give anything to fill that room with life and not just any life but Sam's life but now I don't want to close the door because of pain. I want it open because of the closeness I feel with him while in that room.

I miss you Sam.
Mommy loves you!