My sweet boy,

Your brothers are extremely blunt about the reality of losing you. In the car today, a Taylor Swift song was on. Lucas remembered a message I had gotten a few months ago about how much I listened to Taylor Swift (I don’t have to tell you, you know it’s a ridiculous amount). He asked how long ago it was and then just said, “no, Isaiah was dead when you got that message”. He then asked how many days ago you passed away. Maybe having your brothers be so blunt about everything has helped with the sudden reactions I have to those questions. Before I would just stop, become silent, think about how I didn’t want to answer it, and then answer it. Now, I just answer their questions. Is that progress? I think it is.

Abuela sent me some pictures she had of you tonight from the time they visited us in October. They’re all “live” photos, so I just clicked on them all and watched you. There’s a simple picture in the truck where you’re drinking your water and it was so comforting watching that one. I’m not sure why, but I watched it a few times. This is really odd, but I can visualize how you’d open your cup, drink it, close it, and the noise it made when you put it down. You always stole daddy’s water and drank so much of it.

I miss you. One thing I can’t do right now is think about how life would have been had we not lost you. I will ask in therapy, but I don’t see why that would be a bad thing. I frankly can’t sit here and think about a future with you in it on this Earth because it’s just a dream. It’s something that would literally never happen, so why go down that road? It would hurt a lot to sit there and go through all the “what ifs” of the future and everything that I missed out on with you.

I’m starting to go down a dark place, so I am going to go to bed. I haven’t been visited by you in a long time. I need a dream, baby. I’m begging you for something. I love you more than anything in the world, sweetie. Goodnight and sweet dreams.