Make You Feel My Love by Bob Dylan was our song. I knew one day Weston would get married and we would dance to this song at his wedding. I sang it to him to put him to sleep every night, when he cried I would rock him in my arms and hum the tune, and whenever he heard the song playing he would run up to me with his arms up for me to pick him up and dance. When this song came on we danced, and it was as if we were the only two people in the world. We would sway back and forth, I would sing, and he would wrap his arm around me and just stare right into my eyes with a big smile on his face. I knew since he was 2 years old this was the song. The song we would dance to the day he marries the love of his life. One more dance, one more time with just us, one more chance to sing those words to him and mean every single word, one last moment together as the most important person in his world. Then I would kiss him on the cheek, tell him I love him, and send him off with the woman he's going to spend his life with. That was my plan. Nine months ago today I laid my baby boy to rest. I don't remember much about that day. I only remember flashes and pieces. But I remember hearing this song. I was in the church walking to my seat when it started playing. It took my breath away. I knew it was going to play, I picked all the songs myself but it still hit me in the gut when it started. In that moment I realized we will never dance to our song again. We will never get our last dance at his wedding. Instead, our last dance wasn't a dance at all. The last time I sang that song to him was just days before in his hospital bed. I carefully situated his wires, IV cords, and tubes so that there was a space just big enough for me to curl up next to him. With one hand I held his, the other was brushing his hair. I laid my head next to his and into his ear I started singing, kissing his soft forehead between verses. That was our last memory together with our song. I'll never forget singing to him in his hospital bed, and I'll never forget when I realized I'll never get that dance. Standing in that aisle between rows of chairs, his tiny wooden casket directly in front of me. The song started playing and everyone and everything disappeared. Just me and this tiny little casket with beautiful flowers and a train on top. Reality hit me hard, it literally knocked the breath out of my chest. I will never dance with my baby again. That was taken from me. I'll spend the rest of my life yearning for that dance. I'll spend the rest of my life missing him and loving him. "I could hold you for a million years, to make you feel my love"Â
