Hi handsome,

This morning on our walk to drop Ellie off at school, we saw a dead rooster next to the sidewalk. Of course your siblings had all the questions even though I had no idea what happened. On the way back home, your brothers picked off a red leaf each to lay down next to the rooster as a memorial. This of course prompted another talk about death and you.

The boys were asking how we would see you once we die and what the “world of the dead” looks like. Lucas said he would set out to find you as soon as he died. I told him that I hoped you would just be waiting for each of us and we wouldn’t have to find you. Elijah plans on making a stuffed crust pizza in the shape of a heart for you both to share.

Tonight while I was making dinner, Lucas wanted to talk about what happened with you that day. I really wish I had an answer just to give to them. He told me the last time he saw you that you were crawling along the shoreline. He told me that he wished he would have gone up to you and asked if everything was “okay”. I told him that going up and talking to you wouldn’t have saved you from what was happening. I also reminded him that you crawling along the shoreline was typical “Isaiah” so why would he have even thought anything of it? I hate that your siblings think they could have changed something or that it was their job.

I ran tonight and stopped in that random parking lot to do another meditation for my grief. This one talked about my relationship with grief. I honestly think my relationship with grief is fine? Normal? I’m not sure.

At one point, they asked me to picture my grief and what it looks like. That’s where I got thrown off. I cannot differentiate between losing you and my grief. To me, it’s the same thing. When I was told to picture my grief, it was your face. I don’t think it’s supposed to be like that. I also don’t think I’m supposed to be sitting here and analyzing that.

As I’m packing up the house, I cannot help but to wish I could go back to that person who moved into that house. I wish I could go back and warn myself how incredibly different my life would be when I left this house compared to when I arrived. I’m used to leaving houses. I’m used to packing up everything, but this one is hitting differently.

I love you so much, baby. Goodnight and sweet dreams.