My Isaiah Joseph,

I finally put one of your poster boards together for Saturday. They’re not anything special, just pictures taped on poster board. I thought about drawing Legos randomly on it or pieces of pizza, but I probably won’t. The pieces of pizza would blend into the red background and my Legos wouldn’t look like Legos.

I’ve put off making these things. I got the pictures taken care of last week, but haven’t even opened them up to look at them. I got random ones from you being a few months old up until we lost you. I put the picture on there from your last day of school last year and I just broke. I looked at that picture and all I could think to myself was, “that picture is from one year ago tomorrow..about 25 hours after I took that picture you collapsed in the ocean”.

I’m angry. I’m so freaking sad. How the hell did this happen? I’ve been focusing so much on what we are doing Saturday that I haven’t really thought about what exactly it means. I think that’s on purpose, because I don’t want to look at reality and acknowledge that it’s been an entire year since you were my Isaiah. I wish I was back in Hawaii right now. I felt closer to you and just more at peace.

I texted Miss Madison and told her I could use one of her hugs. We didn’t have family there yet and daddy came home to be with your siblings your first night in the hospital and I came home the second night. When I got home, your siblings were over Miss Madison’s house so I went over to get them. She opened the door and just hugged me without even saying anything. It’s like it’s the only thing that can make me feel a little better.

It’s a really bad night, baby. I’m sorry. I just wish this nightmare