Ten months. Ten months since our lives changed. Ten months of pain, healing, crying. Ten months missing the presence of someone we loved for ten years. Ten months watching this large bruise on my leg. At one time it stretched from the knee to the ankle. With various cuts, scratches, dirt and scabs. Small pieces of glass. I’ve watched these slowly disappear leaving scarring behind. Still, the bruise has remained, changing in form becoming smaller. I can now stretch my fingers the length and width of it, smaller but still present to remind me that our lives have changed that we have been shaken to the very core of who we are individually and as a family. Our faith tested again and again. Ten months of wondering how his parents are. Are they coping with their pain, are their hearts bruised as my leg? Still hard but softening around the edges. Is there scarring, reminders of the loss that seems impossible to believe? Ten months which have stretched each day longer. How can the ten happy years of growing to know and love someone seem to be no longer than the flutter of an eyelash compared to the eternity of the last ten months? Ten months, and now another begins.