I list what my boy loves and it sounds like a eulogy.

My boy loves yellow. My son loves his brother’s laugh. My son loves rainbows and his backpack.

I’ve heard that motherhood is a series of releases. Separations. Each one is painful but each one on time. Release, say goodbye. Let go.

Somewhere a boy finds a shiny, heavy toy under his father’s bed. Somewhere a boy is filled with sickness. Somewhere he loads his backpack. Somewhere he climbs onto a bus.

My son loves music. My son loves art. My son still has his baby teeth.

Somewhere a son takes out his toy. Somewhere a son’s hands are shaking as he holds it out. Somewhere his ears are ringing.

Somewhere my son misses me. Somewhere there is a release.