We got to see you today, Daddy and I.
Your hair is just as soft as before, your eyelashes just as long. Your skin is actually still the color I remember so well, except your lips which are pressed together with only a hint of a smile.
I miss your smile.
I miss your goofiness.
I know it was your time, but I miss you.
Tonight I added up all of your hospital stays, and it was telling. You spent 529 nights over 84 admits in your 13 1/2 years. But 120 of those nights were in 2023.
My brave, valiant warrior, you were tired. Your wonderful heart which as worked so hard for you was done. Flu may have finally taken you from us, but maybe it was a blessing to you.
It still hurts. I still look for you. My breath caught as I saw you waiting for us to dress you. I hesitated to leave you up high on a table with no sides because I didn't want you to fall off. (Remember when you fell out of bed all those years ago and thought it was funny? And I didn't?)
I went to the temple today, hoping for comfort. After I changed, I saw an old soccer mom friend that I haven't seen in way too long. She asked how I was doing and when I started crying, she just held me. When the session was done and I returned to the dressing room, another friend was there. She held me, too. I am so grateful they were both there today. Another tender mercy that lets me know He is watching over us now that you're gone.
My baby, oh my beautiful boy. I hope you're happy. I hope you're running and jumping and playing all the games you watched your brothers play. It's your turn now. Be free.
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