I don't know how I got through those first few weeks, the funeral was surreal, memories are in bits and pieces, my husband and others either filled in the blanks or jolted memories to surface.
The funeral director gave me a lock of Austin's hair.
At the grave site, after the service and music and people were starting to walk away. I turned toward Austin's vault and his father was standing at the foot of the vault. Mike, his Dad, picked up the vault on one end and crying said, "Austin, my son, I'm picking you up one last time." It was so touching. We all cried.
I thought that they say you wake up in the morning and it takes a second to "remember", then the nightmare washes over you . But not me, I have never had a moment I forgot. Although for a while I would run back into the house to grab my cell before getting into the car because I thought Austin may call and tell me he changed his mind.
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