Just Another Day ...

Today marks eight years to the day since we buried Danny. Yesterday it hit me like a ton of bricks, how very much I miss my son. I miss him when I least expect it. 

When I see someone who looks like him, I want to ask his name and find out all about that young man that I can. Then I want to be available to help him out, if he doesn't have parents who care. It is incredibly hard to simply look at a face that is, ultimately, so familiar yet just as distinctly different. 

Then I will be sitting in my college class, surrounded by a classroom full of 18-21 year olds ... young women and young men who remind me of Danny because of their age. There is one young man who uses the word "bullocks" and that always makes me giggle. I finally had to admit to him that it is because Danny used to say that ALL THE TIME when he was frustrated with something. I hear the word, I see his smile and I smile in return. It doesn't matter who says it, or why, it simply is something that was Danny.

I miss how he would reprimand C for being disrespectful to me. Whenever she'd argue with me, or just be a little ornery, he'd pull her aside and say "Don't talk to MY mom like that. She was my mom way before she was your mom and no one EVER talks to her like that. Not even you!" C would apologize and all was right with the world. For a moment or two. We were good.

It always comes back to me how much I miss my boy. No matter what I do, no matter how much time passes, even when I believe God has a purpose for my life, I miss my boy. It hits me now that I will never see him get married ... or have children ... or become the person God meant for him to be. I know it had to be hard when C graduated high school last year and Danny wasn't there. And when A got married in December of 2011, I know she missed him then too. I know that I did. And still do.

Sometimes I need to remind myself that he is the reason my life has turned out so differently. There is only one thing I can say for absolute certain and with 100% surety ... I would be a much poorer woman today if I had never had Danny in my life to love for those 18 years. He taught me more in the 18 years that he was here than I will, most likely, learn throughout the rest of my lifetime.

If I had roses, and believed he was still in the grave, I would put them on top of the ground. If I had a dollar for every time he made me smile, I would be a millionaire. I was blessed, not merely but truly blessed to have Danny Pasko in my life at all.

On this, the 8th anniversary of your death my dear son, I imagine you watching me from heaven. I hope you are proud of the mom I've been to the girls and the higher education I've pursued. I know that I, forever, am proud of you. Love you babe.