Isaiah,

We have officially hit a month since this nightmare happened. I know it sounds crazy, but I forget what life was like before this happened. My bad days felt different than these days. No matter where we are or what we are doing, my mind is well aware something is missing. Even if I would be thinking about something completely unrelated, in the back of my mind and in my heart there’s a piece missing. I’m dreading the next few weeks with Lucas’ birthday, July 4th, and then your birthday. Even after your birthday though, it’ll be the first day of school, then Halloween, then the holidays. It’s just nonstop. Your absence will be noticed every day for the rest of my life.

I don’t like this “new feeling”. It’s very uncomfortable. This is my new normal though, so I guess the part I have to do is learn how to live feeling uncomfortable. No matter what I try and do after this. No matter what I do to try and keep your legacy alive, nothing was worth the cost of losing you. I always said I would never change one thing in my life because it would change what I had. No matter how painful, I would do it again. This is the first time I would say that if I could go back in time I would change it. In an instant. If I could go back in time and have it be me instead of you, I would. You guys would all be okay without me.

I found the drawing you made of Cameron the fish after he died a few months ago. Along with the fish drawing is the message, “Cameron we will always love you”. Cameron wasn’t even your fish. It was Lucas’. You made that picture and stashed it away with all your important papers in the bottom drawer of your dresser. You cried the night he died. You made sure we took plenty of pictures to remember him. You could have helped me through this kind of tremendous loss. You were always trying to help make things better and fix them, I don’t know how you would have done with something like this. It can’t be fixed. It doesn’t get better.

I’m so happy you got to know what having a true best friend felt like. It’s hard in this lifestyle to make such good friends. Usually by the time you start to become friends, someone moves. The friendship you had with Carson was so pure. Mrs. Courtney and Mr. Mickey essentially treated you like a bonus child for them. It started out as playing groundies (I still don’t understand this game) at the park, then went to Pokemon cards, changed into building forts in the tree line and setting up “traps” so the landscaping people wouldn’t take down your fort, to sleepovers, Minecraft, and riding bikes around and looking for amazing finds that people were getting rid of. When I was looking through the Alexa history, I saw that you were asking Alexa how long it would take to get from Pennsylvania to Oklahoma. The roadtrip to see Carson would have been worth it. Although I’m no longer close with my childhood and elementary school friends, they hold a special place in my life. I can still recall so many memories with them. I’m thankful for Carson. I’m so thankful for Johnny from Fort Leonard Wood and your soccer crew and classmates here at Schofield that really made a mark on you. Your entire class here welcomed you in so quickly and I’m appreciative you got to spend your last few months really enjoying your life. You literally couldn’t wait to go to school in the mornings. Late bell was 8:10am, you would have your helmet on and ask to leave for school at 7am. I had to tell you it’s too early and just chill out for a minute.

I’ve run past Daniel K a few times since everything happened and it just hurts. Since you got to school before us because we walked, I always scanned through the bike rack for your bike and helmet to make sure you got there safely. It was even easier to spot your stuff after Carson moved away and you started wearing his orange helmet. It stuck out. At pickup you would always be on your bike, walking with the herd of children, and then stop to give me a kiss and say “hello” before you rode back home. Looking at the empty schoolyard right now is hard. I know it’ll be even harder in August when I walk them to school, but still look for your bike that I know will never be there.

It doesn’t matter how much I cry, how much I scream, how much I completely check-out from reality, it still hurts just as much. I read that a traumatic death causes traumatic grief, so I will be talking to a trauma therapist tomorrow. I just wish you and your ridiculously sweaty self would walk through the back door, throw your helmet on the dining room table, and sit down all gross on the couch asking to play Minecraft. I love you and miss you so incredibly much. We are doing our best here, but we are all really struggling.