Overnight he turned into a toddler. I watched him grow from chubby infant to clever baby in the hospital, watched him learn to roll over and talk and crawl. I watched him look so proud of himself when he could sit up, when he could clap his hands, when he could say "no" and shake his head.
I watched him dying. His hair grown back from months of chemo, covering the scars of brain surgeries.
I watched them carry his little coffin into the church and carry it out. I watched them lower him into his grave. I threw a flower on top and watched as the men shoveled dirt on top of him until the entire grave was filled in.
I stood around that hole and sang as we buried him.
I have watched a mother's face as they lower her child into the ground. I have watched a father bury his son.
I loved him.