AUSTRALIA

My dearest Marco Matteo,

How do I write to you, my sweet boy, when my arms ache to hold you, but all I have is this page? It's 1985, and we're in Australia, a place so far from the home I knew, a place I dreamed you'd grow up in, running through fields of golden grass, your laughter brighter than the sun. Your father and I came here with so many hopes, carrying our old lives in suitcases and our new ones in our hearts. You were the brightest of those hopes, my precious son, the one I carried beneath my heart, the one I loved before I even knew your name.

I felt you, Marco. Those tiny flutters, like butterfly wings, told me you were there, growing, dreaming with me. I imagined your dark eyes, maybe like mine, maybe like your father's, sparkling with mischief. I pictured you toddling through our little backyard, chasing the strange birds that sing here, learning to say "Mama" with an accent that would blend our old world and this new one. You were so real to me, my love, so alive in every plan I made, every quiet moment I spent rubbing my belly, whispering to you about the life we'd have.

But oh, my sweet boy, you are not gone from me. Not really. I see you in the wildflowers I planted in our garden, blooming bright against the odds in this dry Australian soil. I feel you in the warm breeze that brushes my face, like a kiss from somewhere beyond. I whisper your name at night, under the endless stars of this new sky, and I know you're there, watching over me. You are my forever love, my Marco, my son who lives in every beat of my heart.

To any mother reading this, who knows the same hollow ache, the same love that refuses to fade—I see you. I know the way grief sneaks up in the quiet moments, the way you love a child you never got to hold. Your pain is real, your love is real, and your baby is real. We carry them with us, always.

Marco Matteo, my darling, this memorial is for you, a place where your name will live, where my love for you will be written forever. I'll keep coming back to this walk to tell you how much you mean to me. You were here, you were mine, and you will always be my son. Until I can hold you in my arms, I'll hold you in my heart.

All my love, always,
Your Mama,
Maria K.