Eight months have passed since you were with us. These eight months have flown by but felt slow all at the same time. Not a day goes by that you aren’t beyond missed and loved.

Thinking back to your eighth month of life, this was the last month we had a ‘normal’ life. It was right before you got sick and went to the hospital. We miss your smile and the joy your presence brought to everyone who encountered you.

Knowing that we are approaching your absence being longer than your presence has been a mental and emotional battle.

Yes, you and I have sat on the floor together. I rocked your little urn just thinking about the last time I held you in my arms, with tears that gushed from my eyes. Your absence is very present in our house.

Today, on a day of the month that always feels heavy and bleak, we got good news. I feel like you walked up to Jesus this morning and said, “Please can we send Mama and Daddy good news today? They need it.” Jesus said, “yes.” (I know it’s probably my imagination, but I like to think you had a little hand in asking.)

I am missing your presence and the absence of you physically in our lives. You’re not absent from our hearts or minds. I’m still blessed with opportunities to share about you and our story. We love you lots and miss you often. I’m thankful to call you my son.