I Have Two Kids, and I Always Will

My oldest son is turning 20.

That sentence feels so strange to say. Because while it’s true, it’s also not how I imagined celebrating this milestone. Dylan should be here. We should be planning something special, joking about how he’s no longer a teenager, and reminiscing about all the years that led up to this moment. Instead, I find myself sitting here, trying to find the right words to explain something that can never truly be explained.

I have struggled with this for some time. How old is Dylan? Is he turning 20, or will he always be 18? Do I have one child or two? These are the questions that grief forces upon me, questions that have no real answers—only what feels right in my heart.

Dylan no longer lives with me. But not in the way most people mean when they say that. He’s not off at college, exploring the world, or chasing a dream. He’s somewhere I can’t reach, at least not in the way I want to. And yet, just because he’s not physically here doesn’t mean I’m not still his mom. I have two kids, and I always will.

That’s the thing about motherhood—it doesn’t end. It doesn’t matter how old they get or where they are. It doesn’t even matter if they’re no longer on this earth. My love for Dylan didn’t stop when he took his last breath. If anything, it grew even stronger, reaching into the spaces where grief and love intertwine.

I still find myself doing things for him. Talking to him. Looking for signs. I feel him in the little things—a feather in my path, a butterfly or dragonfly that lingers just a little too long, the number 27 appearing in unexpected places. He finds ways to remind me that he’s still here, just in a different way.

And then there’s Mason. My younger son, who keeps me grounded while carrying his own grief. Watching him grow, play hockey, and chase his dreams is both beautiful and heartbreaking. He wears Dylan’s number on his jersey, a constant tribute to the brother who taught him so much. And as much as it hurts to see one of my boys missing from our day-to-day lives, I see Dylan in Mason’s laughter, in his determination, in the way he carries himself.

So, yes. I have two kids. I always will.

One is here, and one is not.

One I can hug, and one I can only hold in my heart.

But both are mine, forever.

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