Connor,

I still can’t believe you have been gone 775 days. So much has happened since you left, so much has changed, and yet so much remains the same. I still wake up on a daily basis wishing this whole thing was a bad dream, wishing you would walk through the door and complain about what I’m making for dinner. Tell me that Shelly’s cooking is better than mine no matter what I make.

I want to hear the bump bump bump of your music, as your car pulls in the driveway. Although by now I’m sure it would be some diesel truck. Just as loud as the one Kyle has (that supposedly his neighbors in Millers complain about).

I want to give you shit when you flop on the couch. Could you just sit like a normal human being please? I want to grouch at you about all the dishes and silverware that you have in your room, that you are the reason I only have 2 spoons in the silverware drawer!!

I want to snap at you about leaving towels on the floor in the bathroom, and in your room. And while we are talking about the bathroom, that hall bathroom is yours, you need to clean it. It can’t look like a boys locker room when Jordan comes over!

I want to have the continuous fight that no you and Jordan can’t sleep together under my roof!! You are too young, when she sleeps over, you are relegated to the living room futon. So stop arguing with me!!

But most of all I want to rewind time 787 days, to before the accident. Tell you on that Sunday night at Pioneer Valley Indoor Karting that you just needed to come home, instead of going to Jordan’s. Then you would have had your clothes for the Career Fair and none of this would have happened. But I can’t rewind time and undo this tragedy. I just have play the cards that were dealt to me, whether they are a winning or losing hand.

Love you to the Moon and Back, Miss You Forever and Always.

I made it through another Thanksgiving, the 3rd one since Connor died. Each one has been different, the first one I was numb, in a fog, not really accepting he was gone. Just having gone through the Wake, Funeral and Burial, something that no Mom should ever have to do.

The first year we spent Thanksgiving with Mark’s boss John Lamoureux. Just a quiet day with he and his kids, Prime Rib and all the fixings. A Thanksgiving unlike any we had ever had, which after the emotional trauma we had been through, was just what we needed.

Last year we had Thanksgiving at my parents, which was our normal M.O., but again things were different. My father in law had been diagnosed with terminal cancer, so he and my sister in law didn’t make the trip to CT with us.

This year she made the trip to CT with us, but the table was missing 2 chairs, Connor’s and my father in law’s. As time goes by things change, more chairs will become empty around holiday tables.

This is not a fact that I am looking forward to, the inevitable change that comes as we age and everyone grows up. But it is a change that I won’t have any control over when it comes. What I will be able to do is savor each and every memory as they come along. Enjoy each laugh, relish in each story told, and every meal shared together. Because time is fleeting, so enjoy each and every second that you have together.