A New Year

January 1, 2016

A new year. Another one without you. Another one without breathing in your scent, running my fingers through that soft tuft of hair, without watching you toddle down the hall.

A new year. Another year that goes on while my heart still beats and yours has long since stopped.The cruelest trick nature can play, to steal the one I love.

A new year. It won’t be filled with your big blue eyes, your silly laugh or the smile that made me melt in to the ground whenever your eyes met mine.

A new year. Missing you. Aching you. Longing for you.

A new year. Wanting to make you proud. Wanting to carry out a legacy. Wanting to show the world that you were here, you still are mine. You still matter.

A new year. Another chance to live, not because I always care much about life,

But another year to live, because you would want nothing more than for me to take all this love and spread it around.

A new year. One year more of making you proud. One year more of saying your name. One year more of living a life inspired by the boy who stole half of my heart and carried it with him as he left.

A new year. And even with the heartache, it’s another year of living more richly because you were here. Another year in the “after”, when my life has been defined by love and purpose, because that’s what happens when you lose someone you love with your whole heart. You break and then you mend, and your soul becomes richer than ever before.

A new year. One year closer to you.

  • Lexi Behrndt

    Lexi is a writer at Scribbles & Crumbs, communications director, and a mom of two boys, one in heaven.

    6 Comments

    • Carolyn Cogbill

      January 1, 2016 at 12:21 pm

      Such a beautiful attitude of strength. We are left to carry the legacy of love shared with us by these little ones gone too soon. Bless you, Lexi.

    • ashley

      January 1, 2016 at 5:09 pm

      I found your blog, and I’m so happy I did. Thank you, for your beautiful writings. I lost my son almost 8 years ago, and reading your blog has helped me so much here lately.

    • Alexandria

      January 1, 2016 at 5:13 pm

      BEAUTIFUL,I lost my boyfriend in 2003and I’m still longing for him and the children we could have had

    • Mary

      January 2, 2016 at 10:35 am

      My sincerest sympathy. I lost my grandson age 2, in 2012. This IS how I have survived what you so perfectly wrote. And now my daughter too has found your article, and if she hasn’t before able to put it to words, you have. Thank you for sharing.

    • Jeanne

      January 2, 2016 at 11:29 am

      This is beautifully written & although my son was a grown man, losing him in June 2014 @ age 44, this still applys in many ways. I have to keep his memory alive. I want his name mentioned & do not want him to be forgotten! He had such a big heart & loved scripture, taught his son about God & cared about people! I’m trying to start a foundation but have not come up w/ the perfect idea. Some day it will hit me & ill dive into it for my Brian! The red-headed beautiful son who always had a big smile. I miss him terribly. Our bond is not broken & our love is even stronger if that’s possible. God is taking care of me & I pray for my health to be restored & to heal from losing him for both my grandson & for me, Brian’s mom. Love will always be there ….

    • Charmayne Dowd

      January 1, 2017 at 9:00 am

      I’
      ve lost 2 sons…you are never the same.! One dies 15 yrs ago at the age of 28…the other son dies by sucide oct. 2015, at the age of 31. So young! They both were great boys !
      My life is not the same ! I stI’ll cry alot

    Comments are closed.

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