Dear Jakey,

Once again I have let time slip between my notes to you. And once again it is the same old reasons. I have plenty to say, probably more than I can fit and organize in to one letter, but I get to a point where these letters are hard, they just remind me of all that is lost. And while I love the connection from before you died, I can’t always pretend it is the same. It just isn’t the same.

It is strange also to me how much we have been through. And I find myself somehow comforted yet also devastated to know so many people are going through what we did. I don’t think I realized when you were here because I didn’t really have time or energy to find these families. And now I follow them so closely and I can relate in a way that I can’t relate to many people. And it makes me so sad and angry that so many little people have to live such hard lives. And sometimes it makes me angry at those around me who have no idea, or those that think they do but don’t have a clue. And then I need to get over it and I realize the only way to do that is to write to you. And it usually works, like when you were here – you keep me centered and focused and positive.

Last weekend we had Ethan’s birthday party. And Sunday he will be 7. Hard to believe that he is such a big guy now. Anyways, I found myself wrapped up in Ethan’s 2nd birthday party where everything changed as we knew it. Even though the date wasn’t right – that party was the week after his birthday not the week before. And although you have so many significant “anniversary” dates I can’t quite ignore this one. And this time around I feel as though I will have a pit in my stomach for two weeks – it started the night of Ethan’s party January 8th and I suspect won’t go away until January 21st. Last night in bed, I re-lived all those details. Waking up in the middle of the night with you, knowing something was wrong, going to the ER, dealing with bullshit, the ambulance ride, stopping in Springfield, and the whole clusterfuck (sorry peanut but there is no other word) from that hospital. The helicopter ride, watching them save your life at Children’s and all that happened. I also re-lived all those moments before that happened – when life as we knew it was simple. Two parents, two young boys and a bright future. And we quickly learned that wasn’t our path and that we can’t take things for granted. And while I know you taught us a lot and made us all better people, I mostly wish that we didn’t have to learn that and that we could just be two parents with two boys and a bright future. But as soon as I write that I feel bad for putting it down – because more than that I just want you to know how important you were. And we really wouldn’t change anything about you except to make you suffer less. But that what was so amazing about you – you handled it all so much better than us. And really it is all just to say I want you back so bad.