Dear Jakey,

We are home from Cali and from all travels for a few weeks. Next stop is Plum Island which I can’t help but be a bit of a nutcase about. I am excited to go there because for the last 4 summers it has been such a part of our family tradition. I love our routines and the beach outside our door and the waves outside our window. I love seeing Tuck and spending time with her. I love the Mexican restaurant in Newburyport and the beers on the beach. I love how we found it because it was a lowkey place to take you. But now we are still going there when the reason we started going  is gone. I am not sure how to navigate this vacation without you. Without you in the shark tent or in the red stroller. Without you on my lap on the porch or the decks. Without worrying about the heat. Without you. We are staying at a different house on a different part of the island which may or may not help. Ethan and Sarena are so excited which will help. It is all just so difficult Jakey.

Saturday we travelled for so long to get home. Our flights were screwy – from San Jose to Orange County to Vegas. 4 hour layover than home. Just a long day. And I kept seeing you. On the plane from San Jose to Orange County was a mom and her baby on the seats across the aisle from me. And for some reason I saw the baby’s hands. I don’t know if it was a boy or girl but the hands, Jakey, were yours. The hands were laying perfectly, quietly and just mirrored yours. I remember watching your hands so often. I remember them when they were still. And loving the quiet and calm for you. And I remember they were often the first sign of a seizure. Your hands told such a story and I loved them. And seeing this little baby’s hands on Saturdays brought tears to my eyes. That is the hardest thing about life without you. I can never anticipate when my heart will break again.

It happened later on Saturday when we were in the airport. I kept hearing baby’s cry and it got under my skin. Not in an aggravated way but in a sad way. I remembered you crying and how happy that would make us – which was so strange to many but so symbolic to us. It meant you were awake and feeling and each time you did it we couldn’t help but smile. And it reminded me of your femur break – which in retrospect might be the night my heart started to break. And it reminded me of how much we missed your cry when it wasn’t there for so long. And it is just another reminder of  something else I will never experience since you left me.

Your bench is in buddy. About time. Now we can plant flowers around the stone and the bench. Hopefully in the next few days we can do it. I am thinking red begonias are the way to go.

With so much love,