My baby,

It’s just another day without you. This new normal is still so hard to accept. I used to feel extremely sad, angry, confused, and mad. Now I’m just so sad and asking how and why the hell this happened? I can’t see myself ever “accepting” this. I went on Google to look up symptoms of an aneurysm (please make note of how long it took me spell that correctly) just trying to find possible answers of what happened. Could I have stopped this? Did you know something was happening? These questions just stay in my head because there are no answers. There’s no answers, but I’m still left without you.

You were the one who would always want to come wherever I was going if it was outdoors. A hike? You’re there. The beach? You’d complain about which one, but you’d still come. You were always with me at the river in Missouri. I was thinking ahead today about the holidays. Not how it’ll change, I can’t visit that yet, but memories of the holidays with you. You were always so happy and excited to help me decorate. In Missouri, you LOVED driving around to look at Christmas lights. We honestly drove around to the same houses in Piney Hills around 4-5 times a week. It never got old for you. You were just as excited as the first time every time you saw each house. That house only has a single string of lights lit? You’d be there going “ooh, look!”. If those people with the dog house Halloween decoration is still here come October, I will think of you. As soon as Halloween decorations went up you were talking about the “house with the dog”.

There’s crazy mind games happening right now. I watched firsthand how quickly you can lose someone. One minute you’re there, the next you’re completely gone. I know how fragile life is. I know the regrets I have with you in those last moments. You’d think that I would do everything with your brothers and sister to ensure that wouldn’t happen again. However, I’m just not all there. I’m trying to play games, read books, and I ran around a lot chasing them at Kid City, but I’m not even close to where I feel I should be. I’m not close to who I was before all this. I honestly don’t think I will ever be that person again. I know we still need to make the memories and your siblings need me to help them make it through this, but how can I lead them when I’m so lost.

I know something that’ll make you feel good. You were always thoughtful, looking out for people, and helping relieve their pain in any way. Since this whole thing has happened, I have seen more of a support system than I ever thought possible. Family and friends dropped everything to fly 4,000+ miles to be here with us. I got so many messages, texts, and calls from people checking up or sending their thoughts to us. I got books to help us all grieve. I got a beautiful blanket with your pictures on it from a group of women I have never met in real life. Money was even donated to ocean conservations in your name. Dinner? We haven’t had to cook since you went into the hospital. Random drop-offs of people have brought food, paper plates, cards, and so many other things. I have seen so much of your caring and goodness in all this mess. I know that if you were alive and something like this happened to someone, you would be figuring out what to do. I am so thankful there are so many people like you.

I had another dream last night. You weren’t in it, but you were noticeably missing. I was packing three school lunches for Ellie, Lucas, and Elijah. I grabbed three containers of yogurt from the fridge and thought to myself “I can send this since Isaiah isn’t here”. Even in my dreams your disgust for yogurt is there. I’m okay if you’re not in my dreams, but I don’t want to keep having dreams when I notice you’re not there when you should be. Tonight before dinner I was standing in the kitchen while Lucas and Elijah got their dinner. Ellie was over at Miss Madison’s. I looked real quick and asked myself “wait, where’s Isaiah?”. I feel like those times suck the most. How is it that I automatically know you’re gone in my dreams, but forget when I’m awake? It’s painful.

I turned your light to purple tonight for you as I said goodnight and put your fan on three, just how you liked it. You were an amazing son and I’m thankful for how you always showed me you loved me. There was never a doubt that you cared. I hope you feel the same way about me. I love you so much baby and miss you more than anything in the world.