By Donna Bartos 
I wish you could see your life through your love because guilt would have no place. There would be no space to believe there was anything you didn’t do good enough because you did it all.
You cared for your oldest boy from the second he came out of your body to the moment he left this world. I would never try to remove your grief, only to share the truth so maybe you can let go of the guilt.
You struggle with guilt over never having hope that he would live, but maybe you didn’t need hope; you just needed enough strength to care for him.
I pray you can eventually forget all the doctors who made you feel like you didn’t do enough when you knew deep in your heart his battle was already lost. I pray you know that you only wanted to comfort him and never wanted him to leave. Please believe me when I tell you I know you never wanted his life to be over, only his suffering.
What greater honor is there than bringing your son into the world and taking care of him until the moment he leaves? It is not what you wanted, but you fought on a battlefield few know, and you lived.
I’m so, so sorry, Mom. I know it wasn’t supposed to be this way, and I wish he could’ve made it to your funeral instead of you to his.
I want you to know that he was everything you said he was—special. And that’s why it hurts so much. And the world is wrong. It shouldn’t have moved on without him. This world hasn’t been the same since he left.
So don’t ever think you need to put on a brave face or smile when you feel sad or pretend you’re content when you’re angry that he’s gone. Do whatever you need to do. I am here to support you. There is no time limit on grief. I will never tire of you crying or telling me how much you miss him.
You can talk about those white curls he had as a baby, his blue eyes like the ocean, or how you miss his jokes. I will look at every baby picture you send me, and I’ll sit on the phone with you silently as we both cry after we tell a new story we haven’t told since he went away.
I don’t expect you to ever get over losing your son, my brother. He will never die for us. His jokes, compassion, and sense of humor will always live on.
You didn’t cause his cancer, and you couldn’t fix it. So, don’t say goodbye to your boy; say goodbye to the guilt or the feeling that you could’ve done more because you get an A+. You’ve taken tests none of us mothers ever wish to take, but you passed with flying colors.
I love you and want you to know I don’t feel the depths of your sorrow, but I assure you, you are never alone.
by Brianne Edwards 
