Sweetie pie,

We met one of our neighbors today. A little girl came running over to introduce herself to us. She’s seven and in first grade, just like Lucas. I hadn’t really seen any of our neighbors yet, so it was a nice surprise. I was beginning to think there wasn’t a single child on our street. That’s obviously a huge transition from all of our living situations on post where there were more kids than adults.

I forget her name. I’m honestly horrible at names when meeting people out in public. With kids in my classes or on my team I’m coaching, I will figure those out really quickly. If I’m not prepared and someone comes and talks to me, I guess that part of my brain responsible for remembering names just shuts off. Her dad came over to introduce himself and his nine year old daughter. Without even thinking, I said, “oh, I have a nine year old too!”. It was just a reflex that came right out and I didn’t know what to do at that point. I quietly went into a little comment of, “well I would have a nine year old, but we lost my son last summer”.

I’m struggling and I don’t even know what I “need”. I have people here in Pittsburgh who are willing and asking, but I don’t know what to say. I am not doing well with just “sitting in the feeling”. I’m trying to figure out the “why”, even if there is a million reasons. I keep thinking I need to change something I’m doing. I need to figure it out, but I don’t believe there’s things to figure out.

I had a lot of depression before you passed away with everything that happened. That depression took its toll on me in ways. I wanted to just run away and escape from it all. After I lost you, the depression hit a low I never thought possible. However, it’s an odd depression. I’m so sad, so upset, so mad, and so lost, yet I am running around trying to do everything in order to make sure your siblings can heal. I wanted them to have to deal with this reality, while also keeping you close in their lives and celebrating you. I’m doing a lot, yet it feels like I’m doing absolutely nothing.

I need a new way to word this transition. Before you passed, moving back to Pittsburgh was for a new start and positive changes ahead. It would have been me and my four babes against the world. It’s not a new start now. It’s not a “fresh chapter”. It’s not “one door closing and another one opening”. It freaking sucks.

I love you more than anything, my sweet boy. Goodnight and sweet dreams.