Isaiah,

I’m currently sitting in the same hospital we were in for you. Ellie is hooked up to a machine the same exact way you were. Her head is wrapped up the same exact way as yours. I sat down here in this waiting room the first night at the hospital when they took you for your MRI. I remembered the little picture tv with the Disney characters coming and going on it. I remember the cloud pictures shaped like animals. I saw the one hallway we went down during your honor walk. It’s hard to stop my mind from continuing to go back. Just a month and a half ago I was here, seeing the same exact things, during the worst possible time of my life. Are they going to find anything with Ellie during this test? Would doing this test years or even months ago have saved you? How come no doctors had an idea to do this with you?

I don’t know if I’m going to have it in me to write tonight after this so I’m just doing it now. I just watched your honor walk for the first time. I had Mr. Fred record it, but as soon as it was over and I got my phone back that video went into my hidden folder. I didn’t want to watch it, I just lived it. For whatever reason, while I’m sitting here in the dark with Ellie trying to sleep in this room, I needed to watch it. I couldn’t turn the volume on or it would screw up Ellie’s test. I think it would have been even harder hearing everything and hearing your song. It’s heart wrenching to watch your siblings say goodbye to you. I’m thankful Mr. Patrick brought in the flowers so they could make the leis for you. It was a beautiful, yet devastating moment when they gave them to you.

As freaking horrible as this is, I’m so thankful I got the years with you that I did. You were only on this earth for eight years, but made so much of an impact on everyone. I love you so much and cherish the memories I have with you. I cherish the memories I have of you and your siblings together. You were and still are an amazing son. I love you more than anything.