1 year.

1 year.

12:05.

1 year since the metal hit the glass.

40 minutes from when I landed and texted you, "Yay ground!"

And you didn't reply.

45 minutes from when I stepped off the plane and you weren't there.

55 minutes from opening Twitter to see there had been an accident.

57 minutes from texting a friend in media to ask if he had seen you there.

97 minutes from driving past a burned out truck on Pitts Memorial and realizing it wasn't our car.

4 hours from when the officer came to the house to tell us you were gone.

And nothing has been even remotely close to normal since.

Walking into that room at Barrett's as "Joe Batt's Arm Longliners:" played, your dad and your uncle Tony crooning the lyrics we had sang on Sundays as you asked me if I knew every fish harvester mentioned in the song.

"Justin and the Endeavour! With Billy Burke as mate!"

Looking at your cold, still face, a face that was always so animated and held so much love.

Cold.

Still.

Your hands covered in those white gloves because they were too beaten up to not have them covering the injuries.

I fixed your hair.

You never parted it the way they had.

Now begin the seconds.

All of the firsts have happened.

The birthdays, the Xmas, the Halloween and Trick or Treating, the Easter, the Burger Battle, the hockey, the tournament, the...everything.

The immense loss of what we saw of the future.

Our little family.

Our future.

1 whole year.

The house, the painting, the furniture, the renovations, the loss.

The secondary losses.

I miss you and I miss him.

I miss Vinny and wonder how he is.

The changes.

I have tried to channel it all into good energy to do what I know you would want me to continue doing.

Work.

The house.

Volunteering.

The message.

Doing good in your name and feeling your love push me through.

I have met some beautiful people - tied together in our loss, the grief, the pain.

Nobody really understands this loss unless you have been there - and I understand that.

I do not expect anyone to be able to fathom the shock, the loss, the emptiness and the way the world feels so hollow now.

Stanley came.

I am still convinced you had sent him.

He knows when I need him and that funny little boy breathes new life into me every single day.

And in two days I will step on a plane and head to the same meeting I was gone for when you were taken on your way to pick me up.

Life comes full circle that way.

How has a year gone by?

How has life changed so much in such a short time yet it has felt like an eternity?

I hope you see that I have amazing friends, amazing coworkers, an amazing support system that carries me through even on the darkest of days.

So much has changed yet so much remains the same.

Last night we had our league banquet and when Barbie played "Sonny's Dream" and asked me to join her in singing my heart caught in my throat and I could only sing quietly.

The last time I heard it was at your funeral, when we all clapped, celebrating your life and the difference you have made in this world.

"Sonny, don't go away, I am here all alone..."

I will always, always continue to try and do good in your name.

You were too good for this world.

And on the 18th I will once again enter that court room.

"And I'm feeling so tired, I'm not all that strong..."

Everything takes so much more energy these days than it ever did.

So many have left and thrown me aside in all of this.

I wish it didn't have to be that way.

It wasn't supposed to be this way.

But I feel you with me, guiding me, telling me to suck it up and do what you always felt I was capable of doing.

"Don't ever assume anyone is your friend. Push, work hard and keep doing what you do," you would say.

And I will.

1 year.

1 whole year without you, without my home despite this house that now has become my sanctuary.

You were my home.

1 whole year without your smile, your hug, your reassurance, your presence.

1 year.

1 year without that forehead kiss every single day.

Without your dance before bed, telling me I could stay on the couch then scooping me up and running into our room as we both laughed.

I remember the first day when I kept asking myself how I would make it through that day, how I would get through a week, a month, six months.

I could not see any way I could possibly go on and find the fortitude to carry on.

All of those days are a blur now.

I swear I barely remember one - noen of the visits, none of the days of Stef being home to be there for me, none of those who came to the visitation minus my hockey teams.

I just kept apologizing to everyone else for not being present.

But you helped.

I feel you in everything I do, in every day and every moment.

I'm okay, Brad.

I'm as okay as I ever will be without you.

I will do big things, just as you had told me I would.

I just hope that wherever you are you are okay too.

I miss you.

And I'll miss you until my dying days.

"Whisper words of wisdom, let it be..."