How the Heart Breaks

My dear sweet, silly boy is gone.

My heart is broken.

I've tried to wrap my head around the events of the last five months to no avail.  I can't tell you why kids get cancer, or why an eight year old who loved to laugh and smile had to endure so much in such a short amount of time.

All I can tell you is that it hurts in a way I've never felt pain before.  Hollowing me out on the inside until I'm numb enough to think that the worst of missing him is over until it swings back around again to burn my face from all the tears I cry.

I cry a lot.

The smallest things can make me cry... The sound of children playing, walking by the clothing section for boys in Target, hearing something Ashton would have found funny, reading a story to little Jack the next door neighbor boy - who in an emergency situation, I found myself babysitting last night. 

My heart - though it did its best -  I learned is just not ready to be around little boys, especially little boys wearing pajamas with the same cartoon face that was on the blanket my nephew had slept under all of these months.

I miss the sound of Ashton's voice.  The way he said, "Hewwo," and "Aunt Stacey."  I miss his giggles.  His jokes.  And his sweet, one thousand beams of light smile... 

I miss him making me laugh. 

I miss making him laugh too...

 
Honorary Officer Ashton...  Thank you to Make-A-Wish for making Ashton's Dream come true...
There is no better gift to give then one that makes a child smile from his heart.  In Ashton's memory, I pledge to make a yearly donation for the rest of my life to help bring joy to others.  Please consider donating to Make-A-Wish as well...

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