I woke up this morning at 8:34, the exact time my son was born 27 years ago.

I will never forget the moment he entered the world. After eight hours of labor, three of that pushing, he was here!  My midwife grabbed him and laid him on my chest.  He began to inch his way up my chest and nuzzled his head into my neck. He was so strong.  I held him to my breast. He latched on immediately, his eyes gazing up at me. He was peaceful and content.  We were both so happy, so fulfilled, to finally see each other face to face.

June 3, 2015, my son was diving down in Baja Mexico.  He loved Mexico and had spent much of his life there, surfing, fishing, diving, and enjoying the people and culture.

Nate jumped in the water at about 1:30 p.m. for his last dive session of the day… Of his life.

He had a shallow water black out.

News came to me that night at 10:30, that my precious son was gone. My son is gone. NO!!!!!!!! It can’t be. This will not happen to my family! We will not be a family without our son!!! I will NOT be this woman!!!  I screamed, threw myself on the floor, ran around the house, hit walls. Made sounds that I didn’t know were inside of me to make. The sounds and screams of a mother who lost her child.  He was only 26. NO!!! We need more time. Oh, please God, help me. I love him!!!!

It has been five weeks now. Words cannot express what each day is like for me.  I am a changed person. The unthinkable has happened.

I cling to the hope of the day I go to meet him in heaven.  I will hold him and not let go. Just like the day he was born, we will look into each other’s eyes. We will be so happy, so fulfilled, to finally see each other face to face once again.