Isaiah Joseph,

I know this is much earlier today than usual. I don’t even know what I want to say to you, but sitting in it alone right now isn’t what I want to do.

My memories popped up and just last year we were on Kolekole celebrating Easter. Each of you wore the infamous duck costume. It’s ridiculous, but I started thinking about this year’s Easter picture over six months ago. My plan was to put bunny ears on your urn and have you with your siblings.

The thing that mis really bothering me looking at the photos from last year is I came to the realization that these were the last two months of your short life. I wish I could go back in time and scream at myself not to let go of you the next little bit. I was focusing on trying to survive the last little bit in Hawaii and hold what was left of my life together. I kept saying, “once we get out of Hawaii and away, it’ll all be better”. While I was just “holding on”, you were in your last weeks.

I am so incredibly lost in general that I don’t know how to even explain how I feel each day. I know this pain will never subside, but living with this for the rest of my life just seems unreasonable. Your siblings deserve a mom who still is able to show up and be there in every way possible and I’m trying my best. There are just times where I don’t want this as my life for the rest of my time on this Earth.

I tried to call the Caring Place again today, it’s like the Pittsburgh version of Kids Hurt Too Hawaii. We keep missing phone calls so we haven’t been to any of the meetings yet. I miss the Kids Hurt Too group. I miss Let Grace In, I just miss this small community that I had on the island.

I need to get it together, but I don’t even know what “get it together” looks like. I need to find something fulfilling to help get back that connection with you. Remember when we simply just made cookies for Veteran’s Day or something and then went and brought them to all our neighbors in Missouri. I don’t know about our neighbors here. They all seem older and want nothing to do with us.

I miss seeing Mrs. Holmes, I miss seeing you in all the memories I had of you all over the island. Those little things have been an enormous loss. Not seeing Mrs. Holmes at pick-up, even from farther away, that comfort is gone.

My therapy appointment got cancelled for this afternoon for whatever reason. However, I feel like I’m all over the place even during therapy. I wish I could just sit here and be able to even tell myself exactly what’s going on with me, but it’s impossible.

I love you more than anything and I wish you were much closer to me than you are now. You are the missing piece of “home” that I don’t have. I miss the daily reminders of everything I used to have. Please just watch over us. I love you so much, baby.