20 years ago today, I went into labor. It was my Great-Grandma (Gruben) Kitner’s 90th birthday, a Friday. Your dad and I agreed to name you Trevor Jeffery, although your dad’s first choice was Beau Hunter (I know, right???) I think he may have been joking, but he looked awfully serious. You were a beautiful baby boy, immediately loved by your big sister and your parents. I have wonderful memories of so much of the 15 years, 2 months, and 12 days with you. There are so many things that I know from that time. I know you loved us. I know you were the smartest young man that I ever personally knew. I know that your brain went so fast sometimes that it was hard for you to think (because that’s what you told me.) I know you were funny. I know you loved music and spent so much of your last few years writing songs, playing instruments, and singing. I can still hear your voice in the quiet sometimes.
For all of these things that I know, there is so much that I don’t. I don’t know where you would be today. I have no doubt that you would be in your second year of college, but it is hard to imagine where. It used to be easier when I followed your friends and saw what they were doing because I could picture you there. As we get further away from that horrible day though, I am losing a grip on the life that I was imagining, the life that could’ve been. Maybe that’s why your birthday this year seems harder than the past. I don’t want to be further away from you. I miss you. I want you here. That will never ever change. The pain changes though. Like a rushing river, it may be still…just that dull ache. On days like today, though…on this, your 20th birthday, the raging river is so violently moving that I am not sure if I will remain afloat or be pulled completely under. I’m not sure how to function today. I am losing you…again. I can’t imagine where you would be. Who am I kidding? I don’t want to imagine anything. I want you here.
The pain that aches today is anything but dull. It is a sharp, ripped open, raw heartache. You should be here. That business of “It will be easier after you get through the first year, Dana”…well, that’s crap…something people tell me because they don’t know. They don’t know what it is like to watch day after day pass without you. As more days pass, it gets harder. I get older. My memories aren’t as clear. I am losing parts of you that I can’t stand to lose. Trevor Jeffery Cox, don’t you leave me again. Visit me in my dreams. When songs come on the radio that we used to hear together, let me hear your voice. I need you, my sweet, sweet boy. I need your laugh, your hipster jokes, your music, your light. Do you know how much you are loved?
danacox31 
My heart aches with you and your family today Dana. I’m wearing my sweater…
Love Love Love