For anyone who has lost a child, the pain, anger and sorrow don't become any less sharp. Those feelings may take a back seat to the inevitable everyday tasks and duties that we must carry out, but I find the smallest reminder can easily bring them to the forefront again. For me, it is birthdays or holidays, a certain child's cry, or a child’s eyes looking into mine.
I used to ask myself if it was wrong to continue to feel the grief so deeply until I met another woman who had also lost a child. She, too, had the same conflicts of emotion: the need to "get on with life" and "snap out of it" versus the need to keep our children's memories alive. When we lose a child, especially if it is sudden and unexpected, it is as if a part of us dies too.
I shared with her why we put together the scholarship program. There is an absolute joy in keeping Nick’s memory alive, by sharing something he loved with other kids. There is also a “healing process” in evolving yourself into a project that has nothing to do with how or why he died. Don’t get me wrong, I still speak and write about how Nick died in an effort to prevent it from happening to another teen. But I don’t let that effort over shadow the fun side of Nick, and Nick loved singing school. Nick soooooooooooo wanted to be a Bass Singer, and would end up in the Altos every year. LOL.
Here are a few of my favorite pictures of Nick from when he was little:
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJYXLGl9MuOW_nfk-CxHKa860qReWYC81SUyXVehXfE6TLuPbvmM3RBVQQj1LtjK_UiW8HNzXFzSGn6h_CGyRMwijpc64bIxXPLkem-oPCppmANTLyx6CvEmQYiZVJLH_m19DIyDDs3bc/s320/Nick+Baby+Picture.jpg)
This was Nick's 3rd birthday. There is nothing better than a Boy, a Bowtie, and a BigWheel when your three.