Day 27

I miss my son. I miss everything about him. His smile. His red hair. His infectious laugh. His "teen" speak. (Can I get a "brah" or a "hey, boomer"?) What I wouldn't give to have him back. 

There are a lot of great memories crammed into the 15 years, 8 months, and 18 days that I got to spend with him. I remember...

  • He spent the first 10 days of his life in Neonatal ICU because he was 5 1/2 weeks premature. But he weighed over 7 pounds when he was born!
  • He would treat me like a rock star when I would come home from work. My wife would get jealous because he was never like that with her since they got to spend all day together. 
  • The thing he wanted most for Christmas the year he was 4 (2010) was a sport jacket and tie. He wanted to be like me. 
  • Building a rocket ship in the basement that we would sit inside of and travel to the far corners of the galaxy. I went to RadioShack and bought a bunch of knobs and switches that I mounted on the rocket's control panel...so he could push my buttons. 
  • He was so excited when he got his Opti (sailboat) on his 7th birthday. He also got really frustrated when I wouldn't let him go out on it for another month because the water was too cold. I was afraid that if he fell in (the water), he would never want to get in his boat again. 
  • Going dirt biking together. It was always just the 2 of us. 
  • Now matter where he went, he was always able to make friends quickly and easily
  • Traveling together to countless sailing regattas all over the southeast: Alabama, Georgia, North Carolina, South Carolina, Florida and Mississippi. 
  • Introducing him to cool bands, classic movies, and great TV shows. 
  • Taking him to concerts: Greenday, The Offspring, Rodrigo y Gabriela, We Were Promised Jetpacks, The Dropkick Murphys
  • Teaching him sarcasm. 
  • Teaching how to swear like a real sailor. 
  • Having meaningful conversations about events of the day from around the world. He almost always surprised me by how he could see the bigger picture, the implications of what was unfolding. 
  • Telling him that I loved him. 
  • Being so, so proud of him: "This is Damian. He is my son."

I miss you, Damian. Always and forever. 

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