We got out of the car last night and it was a cold and crisp fall night. It was close to bedtime so I was rushing Ethan along and he stopped in the middle of the sidewalk and said “Good Night Jake” looking straight up. It was such a clear night and there were some really bright stars. He said you could see straight up to Heaven. It was a nice way to wrap up our day.
I think Ethan and I have both been really aware of your absence this week. I’ve told you that I have been struggling some and expect that I will through these next few months as everything that happened last year feels even more real. And I can’t help getting stuck in that feeling of I wish I knew that you would die. We are approaching Halloween and I know that I never would have thought you wouldn’t be here for this year’s Halloween. But, back to Ethan. We are here together while Daddy is in Vegas for the same conference he was at last year. And I think for both of us it just seems so strange without you – you kept us busy and it didn’t seem quite as long. Ethan has been sleeping in my bed – just the way the both of you did when Daddy traveled and each night he sleeps with your shirts. He won’t let me near them. He can’t always find the words but I know that is missing you even extra during these few days.
I finally told Dr. Yaman what happened. For some reason, I couldn’t tell him. I am not sure what made telling him different but I think that with Dr. Yaman there was always so much hope. We always felt that he was the type of doctor that was up late at night thinking about you and trying to find something to help. When we parted ways to put you on the diet we still would check in with him periodically because we felt he knew you (and us) so well. And he is now in Syracuse. He wrote us the kindest letter and wants to come see us. He even apologized that he couldn’t have done more to help you.
We love you so much buddy. All of us do. We miss you so much. I hate that we are coming up on one year. I can’t believe after December 8th when I look back at a year ago you will already have been gone. The passage of time is always tough. I was thinking last night when Ethan was talking to Daddy about giving him the biggest, tightest hug when he got home and I remembered Ethan being a year old in our condo in Boston running to give Daddy a hug every night when he came home from work. I remember you were in my belly. It is hard to believe that this is where life took us.