If only it was just a bad dream

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There are moments when I forget that my son is gone. I may hear a noise in the house and think “Donald’s home”. I might need help fixing something and I’ll think, I’ll get Donald to help me. These moments don’t happen often but they are always followed by a sharp pain, a moment of forgetting to breathe, tears, and the realization, AGAIN, that he’s never coming home.

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