My sweet Chuey,

I'm sorry for everything. You deserved better.

It's been a week since you passed away. I'm overwhelmed upon realizing that this is it; you're never coming back. I wasn't there to comfort you to very the end because I couldn't bare to witness you take your last breath. It breaks me to picture you feeling scared or abandoned during your final moments. That mental image haunts me, and generates a kind of anxiety unlike any I've experienced. For years I mentally prepared myself for your inevitable departure, but it didn't make things easier.

As I walked out of the hospital doors that night, I fought the urge to go back in. I had to remind myself this was the ultimate test of my love for you. I had prolonged your pain enough. For too long, I had denied you mercy purely out of selfishness, because I always wanted one more day with you. It was cruel to put my needs above yours. So I didn't go back in and I accepted it was time to set you free.

When I arrived home, I surrounded your bed with all your toys. Later, I held your favorite plush in my arms as I fell asleep. I expected you to come visit me in my dreams but that didn't happen. What if I never get to see you again? What if goodbyes are truly forever? Then how will the guilt and regret I feel ever subside? I didn't kiss you goodbye and couldn't hold you. Worst of all, the complications which came in dealing with your deteriorating health often frustrated me. It was no excuse and I'm sorry I acted cold towards you. I'm sorry for everything.

I yearn to have you at my side again. Throughout your lengthy battle with cancer I was already grieving you. I missed our cuddles, our walks and sharing my bed with you. Above all else, I missed our friendship. The truth is our love never diminished, despite how you were no longer acting like yourself. You were struggling and I was being selfish. I wish I had been a better parent. I wish I could have done more for you, especially on your last day on Earth. You deserved a better send off and I didn't offer that to you.

You'll always be remembered the way you truly were: feisty, strong and valiant. I will forever treasure the memories from our 15 years together. All the ways we used to greet each other in the morning. All your quirks and flaws. The time you stuck your head inside a pizza box and got caught trying to snatch a slice. The times we visited the playground and placed you on the baby swings. How you would beg me to sit on my lap whenever I used the computer. The absurd list of nicknames I thought up for you. The "secret handshake" you and your uncle used to do. The exact spots you enjoyed being petted.

I've spent the past week looking through old photos of you. Strangely, I feel neither sadness nor longing when I look at them. Rather, I feel the absolute joy you brought into this world. That's how I want to remember you; to feel content enough that I got to meet you.

You taught me to appreciate life with your presence alone. I never thanked you enough for your company and unconditional love. You were born during a pivotal day in my life. We met 3 months later, and I discovered the love I could have missed had I died on your birth date. Although I begin a new chapter in this life without you, I'll never forget you, Chuey. Thank you for everything.

If/when we should ever reunite, I hope you can forgive me, and that we can become a complete family once more. To hold your paws in my hands. To boop your nose and kiss your forehead. That's what I desire. Your grandma and best frenemy both miss you too. We're all grieving your loss. Wherever you are, always know you are cherished. You were a fighter and I hope you're at peace. We love you and will always consider you a part of our family. You are my son. Rest easy, baby boy, and hope to catch you later.

Love always,

Momma