Today at about 5:20 p.m.

[pecwae]

eight years ago my son's life was wiped out in an auto accident. Through these years I've come to disagree with the saying "time heals all wounds." Time will never heal this wound I carry in my soul. Although the grief softens over time, it does not heal.

I'm writing messages to my son on helium balloons and will release them this afternoon with my daughter. A site I setup a few months after his death is still online, but I haven't had the heart to update it. The link is in my profile here. My wish is that just one person here would take a minute to read it and know that my precious son once walked this earth, he lived and breathed and loved and laughed, then his light was extinguished and my heart broken, my life changed forever. All in the space of less than 5 minutes.

He would be 30 now. He may have had a family. I may have had a grandchild. All I know is that on this day the pain is still so fresh, I feel physically ill, my emotions are in turmoil. I feel like an observer of life, not a participant.