Dear Jakey,

As we quickly approach December 8th I find myself more and more in a daze. The line between happy and sad, between productive and not, between angry and weepy, silly and mopey is all so grey. Blurred Lines. When I was out today I heard that song which is about an entirely different type of blurred line and I don’t particularly like it, yet it put that phrase in my head. And I couldn’t stop thinking about it all day. It just seemed to fit.

A week ago or so I felt different. I was lost in good memories. Lost in remembering those amazing days and weeks before you died. When you seemed so awake and when you had so many good days. When you cried and whimpered instead of being numb from all the meds. When you rode the fire truck with Xavier. Even when you broke your femur, you had such strength. I remember the letter I wrote you after our day at MGH when Dr. Grottkau cast you. It was our family love story and that is one of the things I miss the most – the way we (the three of us left on Earth) could surround you and do the right thing for you when you needed us to. And how integral a part of it Ethan was in your care. And I worry that sometimes he forgets that – that the memories for him aren’t as clear as they are for me and Daddy.

Speaking of Ethan, he did his black belt test. I know you know it because nothing made me happier (and Ethan too) than seeing the cardinal at the grave that morning. It’s almost like I could breathe again. And it felt like you were sending him your support. And then when we left Saturday night after he had his belt ceremony and dinner we all saw the decorative cardinal sitting outside Massage at Saratoga. Ethan actually thought I put it there for him. And I think Daddy did too. Apparently they think I am a little crazier than I am. Anyways, to me it’s just another clear sign that you are here with us. And while that makes it easier, it’s still not enough. Especially today. Today I just want you back more than ever. And I want to simultaneously stop time AND make it move faster. Another blurred line.

I miss you so much buddy. I keep trying to picture you as an 8-year-old boy and the image doesn’t stick. I don’t really have one. I have the pictures from my dreams but it’s just not enough. At least not today.