Three years have passed so quickly, and yet one day a year drags on forever.

I have PTSD. One of the symptoms of this tragic disorder is that you relive the trauma that caused it… over and over… and over… and over.

No, I don’t jump at loud sounds like someone that’s been in a war. But I can’t bring myself to stay more than 5 minutes in the room where Corey was found.

This is because being in there makes me relive everything I saw, heard, felt, and smelled while my son lay dying in my arms. I waited like that for the ambulance as Justin cried out to them to “please hurry!!!”, and it seemed like an eternity.

Even now I sit here trying to muffle the sound of my tears as Bob sleeps across the room.

It’s in these dark hours between midnight and when I am lulled to sleep by the droning television that I think of Corey and I cry. Because it’s during this time that I cannot escape my visions.

Some nights, I just sit and try to remember Corey’s voice and his infectious laugh. Because ANY good memory is better than the ones that haunt my mind.

I remember holding him as a baby and smelling his head. Nothing smells sweeter than your newborn baby’s head. From that early time, until a mother dies, she knows her child from their scent.

I found a shirt of his mixed in with some of my clothes the other day. After 3 years, it still smells like him. I buried my face in it just so I could smell him, and all of the feelings came rushing back, and I began to cry.

I folded the shirt gently and put it on my bedside table… so I can have his scent whenever I need it.

I imagine the pain he must have gone through. I worry that he was scared and calling out for me. I envision the path he took home after being attacked, and I wonder at his strength and desire to live!

Three years is too long to go without your child. A parent should NEVER have to bury a child!

I don’t know if I will ever have closure. I guess it’s really not up to me.

But I know I won’t give up.

Because he’s STILL my son! And if he were alive, I’d still be fighting for him till my dying day!

And I need a new memory. A new thing to play over and over in my head.

I need to hear that the person who did this to my son has been caught!

Let me fall asleep one night… JUST ONE NIGHT… knowing justice will be served.

Corey, I miss you, I love you, and I’ll see you soon.

Love Mom.