I watch the clock tick over, watch as midnight dawns, its one year today; one year since my little boy, my son died. It doesn't make sense to me, I still wake up in the morning hoping, wishing that it was all just a nightmare and my Joey will come rushing into the room, bouncing on my bed, telling me he loves me.
I'm lying alone though, in his bed not mine, I haven't washed the sheets, haven't changed the bedding. It still smells like him. I look around his room, it's been left untouched by the passage of time that has past. I know it's not rational and that I should move on, I have a beautiful family still but I can't do it, I can't let my first born go.
I snuggle into his baby blanket; I let the smell of him overwhelm me as the tears begin to fall. I'm trying so hard to hold it together these days, but it's not working, not really. There are photographs of his smiling, cheeky face all around the house. New neighbours asked the question the other day.
"How many children do you have?" I went to say five, I wanted to say five but then I knew I would have to explain my lost son and I could not do, I just couldn't bring myself to say it out loud, so I told them four "I have four children, two boys and two girls" I told them their names and ages, told them that we are a blended family and the older two are technically my stepchildren but that I love them just the same but I couldn't tell them about my little Joey.
He was my pride and joy, my everything for so long and now I can't bring myself to speak of him to anyone else. My twins are almost three, the same age he was when he died. They don't remember him and it breaks my heart to know that. They know that they have another brother; Kerry says he's in heaven, I know Booth told her that, I don't believe in God or heaven but since losing my baby I have often wished that I did.
Booth is standing in the doorway now, staring at me. I can see the pain clear as day on his handsome face. I scoot over a little and let him join me on or son's bed. He wraps me in a tight embrace and we begin to sob together, the anguish of losing our little one still so raw.
"I miss him Booth, I can't stop missing him" I sob into his chest and he kisses my lips tenderly "I know Bones, me too, me too" that's all there is now, pain. You don't recover from losing a child, maybe you adapt and learn to live without them but you never move on, you never get over it. You love and cherish them always.
Joey will always be a part of us, of this family and this home, he's our boy, our son and we love and miss him every minute of every day.
"one year, a whole year".