My son Colin died less than four weeks ago. Actually Colin was my stepson, but we had been in each other’s lives since he was 11, and he introduced me to hospital staff as "my dad"…he was my son. His memorial service is the day after tomorrow.

If you had known Colin, you would remember his charm and good humor. He could light up a room with his presence.
 
You might also have been exposed to his generosity and compassion.

All of his family—parents, stepparents, brothers and sisters, niece and nephew—have been reeling from the loss. We have spent lots of family time together and shed many tears.

I take comfort in the deep connection Colin and I felt and talked about during our last visits. Colin opened up about the regrets he had about his "poor lifestyle choices" which were now leading to his demise.

His doctors said Colin had about six months to live, so he was making plans for lots of family time this summer. He expressed an intense desire to make the most of what little time he had left.

He told his mother Eileen his biggest regret was that he would not live to look after her when she was old and needed help. I believe Colin did make the most of the time he had left, even if the time left was days, not months.

Each of us has our own path in grieving.

I recalled lessons in acceptance I had received about a year and a half ago when my son Richard was dying of cancer. I recalled how after Richard died a friend had urged me to "clear regret," and how freeing it was to clear out the "should’ves" and "if onlys" I was carrying.

…and again, I write.

Thank you for your understanding and support. This is a part of parenting I hope you never have to face.