It’s crazy to me how grief works. I miss my son every single day. I talk about him. Someone will do something, and I will say how I wish Morgan was here so I could call and tell him. Or I will do something and only he would find it funny like I do. He got me.

My grief never goes away, but it’s crazy to me how just simply driving down the road I won’t be able to catch my breath. It comes and goes like it’s nothing. I can be in the middle of nothing or sitting her typing one of these post and it will hit me like a ton of bricks. I try to keep myself overly busy. Working on “Morgan’s Legacy”, helping the kids with school work- keeping my mind so busy but my heart breaks through like nothing.

One minute I can be looking at the sunset and thinking of Morgan and I will be so at peace knowing that he is with me every second of everyday to taking pictures of my daughter for homecoming breaking down because he should be here with us. Looking at his siblings like he’s a proud dad.

Morgan wasn’t the oldest but he took his job as being the big older brother very seriously. He always listened to his siblings, he gave them his advice, he was always there for them, he told them when they were being goofy. I miss those moments and I grieve for those. I didn’t know about most of the conversations the kids had with him unless he felt it was something I needed to know about. He took their secrets to the grave with him. I look at all of my kids now and I wonder how they are getting these things out now. No-one will ever replace Morgan, but will they look to one of their other siblings to get through the ways of life. Will they grow up and lean on one another and be there through the up’s and down’s. I never worried about that when Morgan was here with us. He checked in on everyone.

I don’t know how any parent could ever be ok again after the loss of a child. I look for Morgan in everything we do. Sunday dinner’s, Volleyball games, dances, boy/girlfriends and every day situations. How will I ever get over his being gone. My heart is so broken.

People ask me all the time how I am doing. I of course tell them I am ok, because what else am I suppose to say. I am not ok. I have not been ok since I received the news on June 10th 2025. How do I have conversations with people when the only thing I want to talk about is Morgan or the fight I have in me or how I want to honor him and his name. I have become a shell of a person I once was. I know I am new in all of this and maybe one day I won’t be such a shell, I just can’t see how that will happen.

I still sleep on the couch where I was when I got the news. I just can’t seem to leave it. It has become my safe place where once my whole home was where I felt safe. I still look for him to be coming up the street, or to be in the driveway being loud and obnoxious, I look for him in the sky. Im scared what the winter will do to me because the sunsets will be few and far between. God is definitely going to have his work cut out on me.

I am sad this morning for no reason other than I can’t pick up the phone and call my son. It debilitates me. The feeling is so strong and powerful. There is nothing I can do to make it go away. I just have to wait it out. With tears rolling down my face.

I am not sure why God chose me to be the one that has gone through so many awful things in my life. I don’t feel strong at all. I feel weak 99% of the day. But I fake it. I lost my dad at a young age, I had a mother that wasn’t fit to be one and walked out as if I didn’t matter, I have had a failing out with my mom (who raised me) and my brother. I lost my grandmother. I have watched my two youngest children go through hell and back and been there every step of the way to wipe their tears but unable to do anything to fix it. Then the final stab was to have my son taken from me.

I am not saying everything in my life has been awful because it hasn’t. It just feels like too much all the time. My village, my family, my best friends, my husband, my kids are the reason I get up and keep going. It would be so easy just to give up. Sometimes I feel like I could take the easier path, but I have a purpose. I just am not sure what that is at this time. The purpose I once thought I had, being a mom, just don’t feel like my whole life’s purpose. (Kids, no that doesn’t mean I don’t love being your mom anymore, it just means there feels like there is something more out there right now.)

I have no idea what my tomorrow looks like, but I keep fighting to see what it may bring. I try to listen, I pray. But until then I will continue to grieve, I will continue to cry, I will continue to write and I will continue to fight. Thank you for letting me ramble today. This right here is the true mind of Momma Dukes.