A Jorney called grief

I lost my son 2 years ago. He was sixteen years old. He had the whole world at this feet and a lifetime to live or so I thought. I gunshot wound to the head on my birthday ended my life as well as his. My life will never be the same.It's funny how grief mirrors us in ways we would rather not have seen. How we suddenly see all the imperfect things about ourselves and begin to worry about our own life. His death has touched every aspect of my way of thinking and most certainly my life. I am no longer nor do I desire to be that person any more. I miss him and enjoy talking about him.