People tell me there is no greater love than that of a mother's towards her child. It was and will forever remain, the hardest thing I ever had to do, support Colin's decision to die. Only love made that possible. My heart hurts so much, not buying him a heart shaped box with reese's peanut butter cups in it.

Because he had the vent in, he couldn't talk the last week. None of us could have conversations, hear what he thought, what he wanted. Was he ok with his decision? And the crazy thing is, even our very last conversation, I wasn't asking him anything. I was just telling him he is loved and that it was ok for him to go, that he doesn't need to suffer anymore. It was reassuring him that we would all be fine. It was just love. Pure love.

Before Colin got cancer, boy could Dave and I have the stupidest fights. I mean stupid. Who did more around the house. Or who was more tired. Why did I have to do bath night again. And the trap of, well if you truly loved me you would know blah blah blah. How embarrassing.

We still argue, but not nearly as much. And 90% of the times we do, it is born from the sadness and exhaustion of missing Colin. The arguments don't last long. It is just a waste of our time. I don't want to hurt Dave. We both already hurt too much. There is the choice to look towards the argument which when, even being right feels wrong. Or to look towards the choice of filling in the arguments, the exhaustion, the stress of life... to instead fill those cracks with love.

Colin's first Valentine's Day my dad looked every where for a Valentine's outfit for Colin and not finding anything for a boy, he finally settled on some heart stretchy pants that looked boyish enough, well I suppose if you squinted. But I realize now, that was an outward expression of how much he loved Colin. He literally wanted to dress him in his love, physically and emotionally. I get that now, I didn't then. Then, I just thought he was being crazy. Crazy maybe, but crazy in love.

I still stand by what I have said before, that the hustle and bustle of life is too much. It can drown out love. Today, remember to let it be the louder part of your day. I know for a fact on the day, one of your loved ones dies, you won't be thinking at all about the laundry not being done, or the kids missing a bath. You will have wanted more time. You will think about how you wished you had more moments to let love bubble up between the cracks that run though our lives. Care less about the stuff and more about the love. It's some of the best advice I can pass along.