My baby,

I miss you so much. I’m sitting here staring at the picture I have of you and I beside my bed. You look so handsome, happy, and healthy. Apparently you weren’t always healthy, but we had no idea. We still have no idea.

Ellie had an appointment today with a geneticist. They pretty much told us that dad and I should have been tested before your siblings and now they’re working backwards. So they put in for me to get the genetic test on my heart and then I will have to go to the cardiologist and get the whole work up. Ellie, Lucas, and Elijah go to the cardiologist tomorrow. However, the geneticist said she wants them to see a more specific cardiologist. I never knew there were different cardiologists, I’ve learned so much about healthcare and the human body since all this has happened. We will see what they say tomorrow about your siblings.

I was looking at pictures earlier and saw one with that car carrier “case” that you had. Uncle Brandon bought it for you, it stores hot wheels cars, but your favorite thing to do was ride on it. Our Missouri house was like a playground for you guys. You used that long stretch of floor downstairs for everything running, scooter, car, bike, power wheels related. You would always sit on that car carrier and just go back and forth. Remember those obnoxiously large cars from the Cars movie? We had Lightning McQueen, blue Lightning McQueen, and Jackson Storm. You and Ellie used to start at one end of the house and just push them the entire way across the floor. Back and forth, over and over again. They were so loud, but you guys loved it.

I did love our Missouri house. There was so much room and I loved our big backyard. Remember how much you loved that random sand pit? I’m pretty sure people that lived over there before us just started dumping their old sand under those trees. Then we just added to it. You were so sad to leave that and we had to take pictures of the whole thing a few days before we moved so you could always remember it.

There’s times now where I still look at your room or your helmet downstairs and think “there’s no way I lost my son. This cannot be my reality. Something like this would never happen to me.” I was talking to a mom yesterday who started one of the groups I go to. She lost her son when he was five years old to cancer. She’s just this shining light during all this darkness and she understands how I just don’t want to be without you anymore. She gets it.

My Facebook memories reminded me that a year ago today we went to Sea Life Park. It was definitely no Bass Pro Shops Aquarium or even the one in Virginia, but you guys still enjoyed yourselves. I feel like everyone’s favorite part was definitely the dolphins. I just looked back and I have one short video of just you guys watching the dolphins. I think I looked at you and your siblings more than the dolphins. You all had smiles on your face the entire time. I’m so glad you got that experience. I would give anything to be able to give you even more.

I love you so much and wish I could grab both sides of your face, squeeze it, and then get like an inch away from your face to just tell you that I love you. I wish I could tell your name really loud to get your attention and then lightly say “I love you”. Both those things are two of my favorite things to do. You were supposed to change the world. You’ve changed my world and my life. Even before you passed, you were the child in this family that taught me the most. You were always challenging things, crazy and just nonstop, and always surprising me. Thank you for being such an amazing son and I’m sorry I couldn’t save you. I’m sorry you had to leave this world before me. I would give anything to take your place. I love you so much, my baby. Goodnight and sweet dreams.