Next Monday marks 5 years since Matthew left our home and never returned. 5 years since we last touched him, kissed him, hugged him, nursed him and breathed in his sweet smell.
5 years ago on Monday, our sweet prince, our only son, became an angel. He left this world to be a part of another. A better one I'd like to think.
Through the years, the pain has remained, but changed. It isn't the feeling of being constantly punched in both the stomach and the neck at the same time. It's more of a dull ache. A bruise. And like all bruises, while it's always aching, there are times when you touch it, or hit it on something and the pain intensifies and catches you off guard.
In 5 years our family has grown. Matthew has a big sister who talks about him just about every day. He has a little sister who would terrorize him from sun up to sun down if she could and another little sister on the way in less than 3 months.
He has a family that loves him and adores him more than words can express, even if he isn't here physically. He is missed. He is thought of. He is our little man. Never to be replaced and never to be forgotten.
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