I realized today that tomorrow starts the 4th year of holiday seasons without Devin. I have much to be thankful for this year and I AM thankful. I also still carry an indescribable amount of pain. It never gets easier, and these days are never “Happy” or “Merry”. They are just…different. It becomes lonelier as people forget, and quieter as others shy away from his name. And yet. I carry him with me every day. I wonder what he would look like, where he would work, what his senior year would have brought so far. Would he have worn his boots to homecoming? Tower over me as I bake in the kitchen? Would our pup have become “his” instead of mine? I carry him with me as I watch our remaining children grow. I remember how his voice changed to baritone and in the same moment, I bestow birthday wishes to my 13 year old nephew, knowing in a very short time he will be older than Devin will never be. I carry him with me in my marrow, and cells, and organs, just as I did in my womb. He is in the ink permanently etched on my arms, and in the marks on my stomach from my pregnancy and his birth. I carry him with me.