September 11 will forever have a different kind of sorrow for me. September 11, 2015 is the day my son was arrested for taking another life. For the last year the question that has never left my mind is how did we get from the perfect baby in my arm, to the son I am not allowed to touch in the visiting room photograph? I saw him two weeks ago, I look at him and all I see is the son I love more than words can express. My photo's of my son from here forward , for at least 20 years, will always be like the one you see here, hopefully twice a year, marking how we age in the same pose in which I can not hug him, in front of a fake backdrop that is almost cruel in a way, leaving me to only dream of what it would be like to truly walk in the forest with him. At this point all that matters is Love, I love my son no matter what.
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