He's gone.
Zane is gone.
That's the only thought that's been on my mind for the last seven days. It's not that I don't believe it happened; I just can't bring myself to accept it.
I mean, this is a dream to me. A bad, scary dream where the love of my life drowned in our swimming pool two days before our wedding.
I blow my nose for the umpteenth time today. It's not a shocker that I've been crying all week long.
I feel weak.
So weak.
And so cold. It's always been cold ever since Zane passed on.
"Mom? I can't sleep!"
That's Reagan. He's seven years old and he doesn't understand the gravity of our situation. He knows that we lost his Dad, and he misses him terribly, but he's still too young to fathom the horrors of death.
I quickly wipe my tears with the back of my hand.
"Give me a minute, honey!" I yell, standing up and walking to the door. I dab the tear stains on my cheeks with the sleeve of my pajama top before I pull the door open.
I force a smile when my little boy is revealed. He appears to be tired and sleepy but beyond that, there's nothing but pure excitement in his eyes.
"You had another bad dream?"
He shakes his head.
"It's not a dream when it happens when my eyes are open. I saw dad again. He was standing beside my bed looking at me. I swear he wanted to tell me something."
"Sweety, Daddy is gone." I bite my bottom lip when my eyes flood with tears. "I know you miss him. I do, too. A lot."
"Mom, he's not gone. I saw him. He was wearing his black swimming trunks and he looks cold and pale. You should get me one of his warm jackets. When he comes again, I'll give it to him so he doesn't freeze."
Blowing out my breath, I go on my knees before him. I'm trying so hard to hold my tears back. I can't show Reagan that I'm nothing but an empty shell. He already lost one parent, so the least I can do is hold myself together for him. I owe him that.
I gently brush his hair from his face.
"Do you want to sleep in Mommy's bed?"
He's quick to shake his head.
"I'm good in my room. I just want you to stay with me for a while. That way, you'll get to see Dad when he comes back. I'm sure he'd love to see you."
I rise to my feet with him in my arms. I'll tuck him back in bed and stay until he falls asleep before I come back to my bedroom. I'm packing away Zane's belongings. I can't bear looking at them. Everything in this house reminds me of him, but seeing all those clothes and knowing he'll never wear them again kills me.
They say time heals everything, but I don't think there's any amount of time that can heal the wound in my soul. If not having to look at his jackets and sweaters and shirts will make my grief more bearable, then I'll just box up his clothes and keep the bags in the basement. I don't mind the grief because it's the only thing that's holding me together but I need to be strong for my boy. He needs me, and seeing me looking like a mess everyday is doing very little to help him.
"You've been crying again." Reagan comments as we walk down the hall to his bedroom.
"I'm okay."
"You're not. You don't cry when you're okay, Mom. You watch TV and swim, bake and go to the mall with Aunt Amber. You only cry when something is very wrong. You'll be okay after seeing Daddy. I promise."
