Baby boy,

Elijah had a soccer game today and was complaining about how hot it was. It was very warm for the middle of September, but that’s normal for Pittsburgh. He couldn’t handle the heat, though. Daddy asked him if he could put some water on him to cool him off, but Elijah wanted nothing to do with that. That was when I told daddy that if he did the thing with the water he always did to you, Elijah would probably lose it.

That memory upset daddy. Him and I are grieving in two very different ways and daddy wants to avoid the pain. Daddy had forgotten he would put water on his hand and then put it all over your neck and head. I swear, he did this for years with you. I feel like I remember him doing it in Missouri, Virginia, and of course, Hawaii. You were always my sweatiest child and you welcomed the tradition from daddy each and every time.

There’s little things that you manage to lose track of as time goes on. Memories fade into the background and seem to only come out if the situation you’re in reminds you of that memory. These memories are always precious, but you realize how important they are to you when you lose the person those memories are tied to.

I worry about losing memories and pieces of you and not ever knowing it. I know I can’t hold onto everything, but losing any other parts of you is difficult to come to terms with. I love you more than anything, my baby boy. Goodnight and sweet dreams.