Just Chloe reflecting

This is the first time I have tried first person, so be nice ;)I disclaim

I thought about him today. As a watched Jordan play in the leaves, whipping them around like a wild man. I thought how much he would have loved our son.

Those are the times I miss him the most, when I see him in our son's eyes. That look he gets on his face when he's been caught doing something he wasn't supposed to, it's so much like Brady.

I cried the first time he got his haircut. For no other reason than the fact Brady wasn't there to see it, and never would. I cried for Jordan and all that he will miss.

I always knew Brady would make a great father, but I never expected him to die before he had the chance.

At night when I tuck Jordan into bed, I thank Brady. He gave me such a precious gift. It was really a blessing, and a treasure.

When they told me to get an abortion I fought them every step of the way. I wanted a piece of Brady to stay alive, to always be close to me.

From the doorway, I watch and wait for my precious child to fall asleep. He looks and acts so much like Brady that sometimes it hurts.

It hurts so bad, because I can never see his face again. He can never hold me or tell me how much he loves me.

I started to forget his voice. I never thought I would, but with time, it began to fade. If it weren't for Belle, he would be lost to me now. She gave me the tape from his answering machine. The first day I had it, I could do nothing but stare at the tiny plastic tape. As time wore on, I picked it up and played it over and over. The metal strip began to wear and I had copies made.

I couldn't lose his voice. Even now, years later, I play that tape. Jordan's heard it to.

Jordan goes by his middle name. I realized it was unfair and painful for others to call him by his first name. Maybe I was being selfish, I really don't know.

I close my eyes and I am taken to that place in my dreams where Brady is still alive.

We go to the gazebo and let our son run around the park. Jordan gets exhausted chasing a butterfly and crawls into Brady's lap where he falls asleep. Brady strokes his son's fine blonde hair and reaches over stealing a kiss, and we both sigh, because life is perfect.

I wake up and take in my surroundings, I know it was a dream, but I still want to wake up and find Brady lying next to me. That will never happen because Brady is no longer of this earth.

He is somewhere, a grave, the air, it doesn't really matter, because he's not where he's supposed to be. He's supposed to be alive and God dammit, it's not fair.

I can't sleep as usual. When I look at myself in the mirror, I wonder how much longer? How much will the ache still be right there at the front of everything I do? Before anything comes the hurt and anger and pain. When will it stop? I know the answer. Never.

I pull out my walkman, and put the headphones over my ears.

"Hi, you've reached Brady Black, leave a message!"