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Two Years.

It's that time of year when I feel it more. The anxious reminder of everything that happened that night…of everything I saw.

When I write that, it doesn't mean this is the only time of year that I feel the depth of Layton's death. The sting has dulled, but grief has become a constant companion. It's like a soulmate. Always there. Invisibly holding my hand in the moments when I weep alone. A constant that will be with me until the moment I take my last breath. And while the weight of Layton's death doesn't feel like it's trying to drive me into the ground any longer, it will always be part of my daily life.

What I'm talking about is the nightmare. The flashbacks of everything that I watched happen to my son that night. Everything that had to be done to try and save his life…and in the end it just wasn't enough. I've always said that I will never verbalize what I saw that night, and I stand by that truth. While it haunts me, it's not how I wa…

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