Isaiah baby,

Hi my baby boy. Kolekole was finally opened today. It hasn’t been opened since before everything with you happened. This morning I went up and just sat in your secret spot you found that one day when it was just you and I hiking together. Ever since you found it, it’s been my spot where I just go to sit in silence and take everything in for an hour or two. I just stared out at the ocean and mountains and read a book I received on grief. I loved this spot before, but it means so much more now. I remember when you wanted to venture up the hill on the trail. Since I rarely said no to things you were curious with, up we went. You got so excited and it was forever your “secret spot”. The picture I have of us is the first time we ever went up there. I wish I could say that I felt you up there today, but I didn’t. I did feel the love I have for you though.

I’m not sure if you heard me, but I was talking to you up at the spot. Maybe since I was closer to you, you may have heard me. Before I was about to leave, I just wanted to scream. I wanted to scream the pain out as loud as I could. This took a while, though. I was completely alone, but embarrassed. Plus, I heard the people over by the bench and hearing a random scream might cause them to think someone is in danger. Daddy told me just to scream in the car when I was on my way back home, but that wouldn’t help me. For whatever reason, I needed to get my feelings out on top of that mountain where I couldn’t see a soul around. I decided to just scream “I love you” as loud as I could. A perfect message to you and if anyone heard it, they wouldn’t think someone just fell off a cliff.

The strawberry guava are everywhere along the trail! I brought a bag with me and grabbed some that I saw were ready to eat. Remember how our pursuit for strawberry guava got so intense? We only saw a few the first summer we were here. Then last year you and I got better at looking for them and realized they’re literally everywhere on Kolekole. They didn’t taste as “basily” today. I’m sure they would have made a better smoothie than the one you tried to make with them last year. Your brothers and I are going to go back up tomorrow to collect more from the patch of trees we found below the trail last year. That place with some random glass bottles.

Being a mom these days is so complicated. You need to try and meet all these crazy standards that are put in front of you and it makes you miss all the good times because you’re so fixed on the “right way”. My main goal was always to raise kids that “don’t need a ton of therapy when they are adults”. That goal completely failed this past year. First there was everything with me and daddy and now it’s your death and the kids having witnessed it. I want you to know I always tried my best. There were times when my best was extra screen time and frozen waffles for dinner. I am sorry I couldn’t always pull it together for you guys. Your siblings are dealing with it now, too. The house needs cleaned. I still have things to unpack, but nothing really productive gets done. I’ve taken naps, I never nap. Dealing with losing you has made me into a person I don’t even recognize. I will never be the mom I was before you lost you. That mom died the day you collapsed in the ocean. I’m trying my best right now with your sister and brothers, but they’re getting a lot more screen time and I’ve only cooked one actual meal since May 31st. We talk about you all the time in the house. Right now it’s just a ton of how much we all miss you. Ellie doesn’t want to go back to school next year because of the memories she has with you at Daniel K. Lucas picked a Minecraft cake for his birthday and Legos in honor of you. We bought an Encanto Lego set and we will be putting it together as a family on your birthday. No matter how painful it is, I encourage the kids to talk about you and reminisce about the many memories they have with you.

I got a certificate in the mail today from the Legacy of Life people. It turns out your kidneys went on to save a fifty-one year old and a seventy-two year old on the island. So maybe some kids’ parents or even grand-parents. I find it crazy that your kidneys were big enough to go to adults. I will be sending the Legacy of Life people a picture and little biography of you so they can pass on to the recipients. I want the recipients to know all about the amazing kid who helped save them.

I was and still am so lucky to have you as a son. Thank you for allowing me to embarrass you by screaming “hey Isaiah” out the window about twenty times as you were walking into the house. Thank you for teaching me to just enjoy life. I love and miss you so much, baby.