Dear Jakey, the last letter I wrote you was December second, 2016. Hard to believe. I don't know why I stopped other than I think it hurt too much. It went from being my way of connecting with you to a constant reminder that you were gone. I kept telling myself I would restart, but it never quite felt right. All that to say, here we are. It finally feels right. Maybe because I'm about to turn 50, maybe because Ethan's in college, maybe because you've been gone 13 years, and something about that seems unreal. Maybe all three. Thirteen years. This feels like more of a landmark than 10 years did. Not sure that makes sense, But it's like when your kid becomes a teenager. That just hits different, and so does this. Your brother is just about done with his first semester at Syracuse. It has both flown and craw by. Getting used to the house without him nearly broke me. I couldn't help but compare it to your leaving. It's not something that you can tell people because A, no one understands, and B, it is weird and not really at all the same. The thing is that it felt the same to me.

I existed with this crazy hole in my heart and had to train myself to realize it was different. I think that is the thing with the loss we experienced. It's hard to differentiate between losses. It took me longer than I would have expected to train to see the difference. Speaking of Ethan, I can't help but think of what it would be like if you were still here. From the minute we brought you home, you wanted to be near him and you followed him around. It changed some after you got sick, but not as much as one would think. You loved when he read to you, when he sat with you, or when he lifted your head when it dropped in the car. I can only imagine the joy he would be giving you now. You would have loved his energy, and I guess you probably still do. I miss when Ethan was still young and tell us you were visiting. He knew you were around and wasn't afraid to tell us. I wonder if he still knows you're around. You will be in all of our hearts more than ever this weekend. Keep us in your sights.

We love you and miss you, and it still takes my breath away on the daily that you are gone. With all the love, Mom.