4 years

Hey there, baby boy. We're walking the days of your life again...4 years later. You turned 4 last Friday. I took the day off, stayed home with brother and sister and just enjoyed them. It was an icy day...we snuggled in tight and stayed in our PJs all day. Aunt Corinne came over for breakfast after Daddy left for work. Beth came over with lunch and a cookie for Thomas. She didn't realize it but she brought an orange flavored cookie from a little pastry shop in town. Oranges...you smelled like oranges on your last day. They used these little orange scented cloths to remove the sticky residue from the tape on your face so I could see you all cleaned up for the first and last time. Daddy came home early and we made dinner. Charles came over to eat with us. Super easy and sweet day. But, oh my, sweet boy, do I miss you. How badly I wish your birthday was the happy day it should be. I wish it weren't so fragile and delicate and sacred. I want balloons and cake and sticky kids hands to fill every December 6th for the rest of my life. I wish so badly things were different. Four years seems so crazy long and yet I can close my eyes and see every moment of your life and it feels so close. I hope that I never lose that. It would seem so cruel to lose those vivid memories...that they should be taken too when everything else that matters is already gone. Watch over us, my boy. You have two little siblings who need to feel your presence somehow. I can only tell them your story...your very brief story. They'll never rub your sweet little cheeks, never kiss your precious toes, never hold your tiny hands. But, please never worry that you won't be their brother. I will always tell your story. You will always always matter. 4 years, 14 years, 40 years from now...I will miss you, I will love you, I will remember you. Sending you every bit of my love to you, sweetest Drewbie.