Tom,

It is now as I watch the clock tick by that I think most about you. Mindless activities occupy me by day, but at night, the constant ticking reminds me of you. A person who was once a constant, but now lost. If I could find you I would, but you seem to be trapped in a place only hearts can enter. So mine is lost, and as I sit here, a heartless shell, I only remember the good things.

I remember, my son, when I held you in my arms the first time. The soft cooing noises that escaped you, and the warmth radiating from you as though you were a star. Which to me, you were. I remember, my boy, when you first wrapped your fingers around mine, and how complete we both felt. I remember your bright blue eyes, shining like sapphire in the night. And I remember your soft kicking while your mother held you. A mother whose heart is just as torn as mine.

We know that mourning is fruitless, but we cannot help ourselves. We were complete, but now we are broken.

My son, I hope you can see how much you mean to me and your mother. Though she doesn't show it, the pain she feels for you is greater than anyone can think. I hope that somehow, you have been given the chance to grow into a fine young man and experience life as I have. But deep inside me, I doubt.

And it is with a heavy heart that I must say goodbye. Your father loves you.

-Owen