He pulls me up off the towel in the sun, covered in sand, dripping sea water from face, hair and body 'come on mum, come in with me in the waves, it's great fun, it's epic!' Our boy, finding happiness, letting go, in the sea for hours and hours and hours since we arrived here!
And it was that...not your letters, not tangible memories, not surfers coming out of the sea where you used to be and surf and love, that remind me of you. But it was playing at body surfing in the sea with our boy that pushed the tears over board , which cascade down my face, and I cannot stop them and they keep on flowing like the waves we are playing in side-by-side.
It's his pure joy, his childish delight, his excitement as we are battered by waves in the sun.
It used to be you.
The person next to him in the sea, it used to be you, Alex, and won't ever be again...
All I can do is be in the moment with him, despite my tears. At least, thank the Most High, I can replace you a bit, for a while.
But it just doesn't seem fair, and I can't tell you, I can't go home, slump beside you and cry on your shoulder and have you tell me 'it's ok, I'm getting stronger, I'll be back soon'. You can't support me through any of this, and it's only you who can, only you I need.
Monty senses it. He knows, he squeezes tight my hand, looking up at me with your eyes, asking me 'are you ok, mum?' So I explain I'm sad you're not here, sad for him that you can't be in the sea with him, he says he knows, shrugs his shoulders, holds my hand a bit tighter and we stay together, clung to each other laughing through the pain.
And it stings.
Goodnight my angel, it's only a few days till I see you again now...