Hi baby boy,
Today wasn’t a whole lot better than yesterday. The way that I miss you and the amount that I miss you just overtakes everything. At some points today I wanted nothing more than to just be with you.
We went to the library again today, I cried again while I was there. Ellie, Lucas, and Elijah did the new “I spy” for August. I just see you running around finding the pictures. I also picked up an August event calendar and that’s when I got upset. There are no more Block Parties. I’m not sure if they just stopped them or they stopped a few months ago. I’m not sure the last one we were at. With swim lessons and school, we didn’t seem to get there the last few months. I’m upset because the Block Parties are gone, just like you. Although if they still had them, I would want to go only to torture myself being there without you. There’s no winning in the situation. I’m either upset that they don’t have them anymore or I’m upset they do and you can no longer go. Seems kind of crazy. You loved going to the library though. You always got so many books, went over to the giant love sac, and just read. When I told you to read at home every day for twenty minutes you would fight me. You hated it. A lot of the times you purposely got books way below your level out of spite. The one day I think you read the Pout Pout Fish over and over again for the entire twenty minutes. I don’t know why I worried with you, you had been reading since Pre-K. When you discovered the Dog Man books we couldn’t get you to take a break from reading. I’ve said it like five times, but I know I have to get to reading the new one I got.
Today during my run, Kelly Clarkson’s Breakaway came on. Now you don’t know this, but after Gma and Pap dropped me off at college my freshman year I put that song on repeat, crawled under my bed (in my defense, the beds were decently high off the ground), and cried. I have never had the confidence that you had. I swear, you knew who you were more than I ever knew myself. It’s taken thirty-eight years, years of therapy, and two extremely traumatic events for me to just start to figure it out. Your confidence amazed me. The way you knew who you were was so awesome to watch. You always went head first into everything. You had so much drive and perseverance with things that you wanted to do. I know I’ve said it a million times, but I’m so proud of the person you were. I’m so proud of all of it.
Elijah came in my room this morning around 6am to tell me “every day is a bad day, there are no good days since Isaiah has been gone”. It’s hard to see the good days right now. I’m sure that maybe years down the road I will be able to look back and see “happy memories” mixed into this horrific time, but right now they just fade into the background. That one support group met today, but I didn’t go. I was just so exhausted mentally, physically, and emotionally that I couldn’t get myself to drive down there early this morning. Plus, sitting there and talking/listening to everyone else talk about their loved ones is exhausting. It’s very draining to talk about you and then hear other people talk about the grief of their loved ones. I did get a compliment on my necklace today at the library. While we were checking out, the librarian told me that it was a pretty necklace. I thanked her and said “it holds my son’s ashes”. She didn’t say anything after that. I hope I didn’t make it awkward? I wanted to show her how it was engraved with your name, but I figured that might be too much.
My baby, it’s really difficult to watch life just continue on as if nothing happened. I guess that’s what it’s always done though, I just hadn’t faced any tragedies or losses that completely upended my life. I love you more than you loved pizza and miss you more than anything. I hope to have a half decent dream tonight or frankly no dream at all. I understand my subconscious is trying to work through everything, but I need a break. I love you my baby boy. Please watch over us and visit often.