My sweet boy,

Our household goods come tomorrow. I decided that the extra room is going to be your room and I’m going to set it up that way. Your cube shelf will be in there with your Lego builds on top of it, your drawing of yourself with a kite will be taped above it, I’ll make your bed with your tire pillow and stuffed animals on it, and then your Legos will all go in there too. That way, we are continuing to build with you.

I’m going to be honest, I think it’s going to be harder to set your room up like it was in Hawaii, but that’s what I want to do. The only hesitation I have is the thought of “why do you want to do that to yourself?”. Maybe it’ll help me feel closer to you in the new house. Maybe it’ll be a place where your siblings and I can go just to always be reminded of you.

I’m struggling a lot. I don’t know the proper way to “deal with it”. My therapist keeps telling me to “give grace”, but I don’t have that. For every one thing I accomplish, there’s ten other things I should be taking care of.

I don’t know, baby. I need you here. I see you in pictures and just wonder why the heck this all happened. I read an article on Buzzfeed today (I know, hardly newsworthy) and experiences people had with the “third man” helping save them. With each experience, I found myself wondering why you didn’t have anyone there to save you. Most will just tell me it was “your time”, but I’m not satisfied with that at all.

I’m starting to spiral, so I am going to bed. If you can, visit Ellie soon in her dreams. She asked me tonight if I thought you were mad at her and that’s why you haven’t visited. I love you more than anything in the world, sweetie. Goodnight and sweet dreams.