My dear boy at rest

My dear boy.
I cannot feel. Without your doughy warm skin to hold close against mine, where is the incentive.
I cannot move. Without you to chase and toss gleefully in the air, what is the reason.
I cannot laugh. Without your irresistible giggling to spur me on, where is the purpose.
I cannot sing. Without your whimsy and melodious presence, what is the point.
I cannot breathe. Without your joyful life spring, where is the source.
I cannot live. Without you, what is the meaning.