Seven

"Seven". Your favourite response to any question you couldn't answer or couldn't be bothered answering. Usually the latter.
It seems an appropriate response now though.
Tomorrow marks seven years since you left us and I think I have a case of "The Seven Year Itch".
This has nothing to do with my marriage but everything to do with missing you.
I have an 'itch' to see you again but I'm not ready to join you, not for a long time yet, I hope! And yet there is no way I could settle for my wish being granted any other way. You see, if I were able to have you back again it would have to be forever, because I couldn't lose you again!! So I choose to stay in a world with my man and my girl, where I am happy and surrounded by people who love me. A world that would be even happier if you were in it too.
I have an 'itch' to know where you would be in life. Where would that seven years have taken you if you were still here? Would you have fulfilled your desire to travel? Would you still be persecuted by a gambling addiction that creates turmoil in your mind? Would you still light up a room as soon as you entered? Would you be married? Would you have kids? Where would you be living? Where would you be working? Would you have had a haircut?
Your teddy bear, named "Seven" sits in our room as a constant reminder of the soft side of you.
Seven is the magic age when all your nightmares stopped.
But in some ways your seven year anniversary holds a bit more angst than usual. You see, after seven years you can no longer make application to view public records such as those that would have been created by the police department after your death. A part of me has always wanted to look at those records but I have to lay that to rest now. Another part of me always held back as viewing those records involved the responses of other people, not just myself. And that wouldn't be fair! It also wouldn't change anything!
Seven years is a long time and yet it seems like yesterday! Its a long time to have missed you and its a long time since I held you and spoke to you and laid eyes upon you. And yet the nightmare of your passing seems as fresh in my mind as it was seven years ago!
But seven years hasn't diminished the love I have for you, Jake! Tomorrow we'll make Wattle Stump in your honour. Rest easy Little Man! I love you! xx