it's been years since I've written but you're in my thoughts constantly. I'm heading back from a 2 week deployment and I'm really missing all of my kids right now. This fire was especially hard. A young family was out with their 1 year old and was caught in the flames. Not only did they lose their child, but the mom was pregnant and they lost that baby too. I can't imagine having the motivation to go through the physical healing they will have to do without their children around. I wish I could reach out to them and do something to take their pain away. I can't imagine the suffering they went through. It took the search team over a day to find them, badly burned and with their baby who had already passed. Do you think you can do me a favor? Can you help them or their babies? Help somehow from that side to give them peace and strength?
Sunday, September 20, 2020
Tuesday, July 15, 2014
Sometimes it feels like it was yesterday...
I can't believe how long it's been since I've written. It's not that I don't think about you, it just seems that life carries on and as long as I'm trudging through life things hurt a little less. April of this year was hard, as was Mother's and Father's day. Even with Sullivan around I still feel a hole in my heart that will never heal. The hardest day in a long time was Sunday. We were at church and the teacher passed out stories to read. Wouldn't you know it but the story I was to read was about a women who lost her baby and her priest refused to give the child a Christian burial. She was still having problems dealing with this 3 years later in the story. Being that it's been 3 years it hit a little close to home. I tried but I was unable to finish reading the story and passed it off to someone else and left the room. I read the story silently before I was to read it out loud and I thought I could do it.
Lately I've been dealing with another problem which I'm even embarrassed to put on a blog with people reading. I've begun to have moments of thinking that I'm glad things worked out the way they did because I don't think there is anyway that we would have had Sullivan if you were alive. I feel a really big attachment to him and I feel guilty even thinking that. I wouldn't trade him for anything but I'd also do anything to have you with us. What do you do?
Lately I've been dealing with another problem which I'm even embarrassed to put on a blog with people reading. I've begun to have moments of thinking that I'm glad things worked out the way they did because I don't think there is anyway that we would have had Sullivan if you were alive. I feel a really big attachment to him and I feel guilty even thinking that. I wouldn't trade him for anything but I'd also do anything to have you with us. What do you do?
Friday, December 21, 2012
Christmas
My dear Sawyer,
It has been too long since I have shared my thoughts. There have been many, many times that I have crafted letters to you in my head. I have to believe that you have heard every one. I have to believe that you are out there somewhere, waiting until we can all be a family together.
Christmas is approaching, a very difficult time for me. Christmas used to be the only time of the year that really reminded me that I had a family. Most of the very few memories I have growing up that were good and included my whole family was around the holidays. Maybe that comes from the excitement kids get when unwrapping presents, but it's really all I have. My family is so broken in so many ways that sometimes I just can't make sense of it all. Until June of this year I had three kids, the oldest being 14. Yet, I haven't had any of my children with me at Christmas for the past 8 years. I haven't seen their faces light up when they see a Christmas tree with presents. Where we live the firefighters put lights on their fire truck every year and drive around passing candy canes. I'm sure that you would have been really excited to see that this year. I would have loved to have Kelsey and Kaiden up for that as well. It was really hard this year but a blessing as well. I'm glad that Sullivan was there, even if he didn't show much of a reaction. I know next year will be better. This will be the first year in so long that I've had at least one child with me during Christmas, I don't know if that will make it easier or harder. Sometimes it is easy to put things out of your mind when there is nothing physical there to remind you of them. While I'll be glad that Sullivan is there I'll be hurting for those that aren't. I'm glad that Sullivan will be here, and to celebrate Christmas with him, but I will be also glad when the decorations get put away and I no longer have to hear Christmas music. I hate being so conflicted, I would do anything to have all four of my children with me for just one day...
Love,
Dad
It has been too long since I have shared my thoughts. There have been many, many times that I have crafted letters to you in my head. I have to believe that you have heard every one. I have to believe that you are out there somewhere, waiting until we can all be a family together.
Christmas is approaching, a very difficult time for me. Christmas used to be the only time of the year that really reminded me that I had a family. Most of the very few memories I have growing up that were good and included my whole family was around the holidays. Maybe that comes from the excitement kids get when unwrapping presents, but it's really all I have. My family is so broken in so many ways that sometimes I just can't make sense of it all. Until June of this year I had three kids, the oldest being 14. Yet, I haven't had any of my children with me at Christmas for the past 8 years. I haven't seen their faces light up when they see a Christmas tree with presents. Where we live the firefighters put lights on their fire truck every year and drive around passing candy canes. I'm sure that you would have been really excited to see that this year. I would have loved to have Kelsey and Kaiden up for that as well. It was really hard this year but a blessing as well. I'm glad that Sullivan was there, even if he didn't show much of a reaction. I know next year will be better. This will be the first year in so long that I've had at least one child with me during Christmas, I don't know if that will make it easier or harder. Sometimes it is easy to put things out of your mind when there is nothing physical there to remind you of them. While I'll be glad that Sullivan is there I'll be hurting for those that aren't. I'm glad that Sullivan will be here, and to celebrate Christmas with him, but I will be also glad when the decorations get put away and I no longer have to hear Christmas music. I hate being so conflicted, I would do anything to have all four of my children with me for just one day...
Love,
Dad
Sunday, June 10, 2012
Introducing Sullivan Sawyer Keith
Yesterday morning Stephanie and I (mainly Stephanie) delivered a healthy baby boy. What an amazing and humbling experience to go through. Now we can stop being concerned about whether or not we'd get to this point and start being concerned with normal parenting stuff.
Stephanie had been having contractions off and on for about a week. We knew that things were getting close so on Friday we went out on our last date where we wouldn't need a babysitter (at least for awhile.) We went to 5 guys, and then to a self serve yogurt shop. It was kind of funny being in line and Stephanie started having a contraction, we let people go around us. They looked a little confused.
I had a strong feeling I wouldn't be sleeping all night. We went to bed and I was able to sleep until about 3:00. The contractions were fairly regular at that point and so we called the midwife. She wanted us to wait to see how things progressed and at about 4:30 I knew that it was time. The contractions were much stronger and pretty regular. At 5:30 we met at the birth center and settled in to one of their birthing suites. Each of their suites has a large tub, ours was being filled when we got there. When it was time to shut the water off, Kyla, our midwife couldn't get it to shut off all the way. Apparently one of the handles was tricky to get shut off. Thinking that we were in danger of flooding I grabbed some tools and went to work to try and figure out what was going on. I could get the volume of water to decrease quite a bit, but nothing I did would shut it off all the way. I reassembled the handle, and was close to admitting defeat. I wanted to turn the other handle on and then shut it off to see how a working one worked. I soon discovered that the other handle had been turned on the whole time. Unfortunately by that time we were already draining the tub to prevent an overflow. There was no hot water left so Stephanie had to wait awhile until she was able to get into the warm tub.
Let me tell you something, I am saddened and appalled how a lot of men treat women as the weak or inferior sex. You see it everywhere how the man, being "stronger" has to come to the rescue of a woman. I hear stories quite often about men being abusive to women, probably an effort to keep "control." Well, the secret is that women are much stronger mentally and physically then men. Sure, we might be able to lift heavier weights on average, but that's only one aspect of physical strength. Watch a women go through natural child birth and you will have a whole new outlook on which sex is the weaker sex.
Stephanie was amazing and handled the delivery like a champ. What an amazing experience to be apart of. Sullivan was a hefty 8lbs 13oz and 21" long. Completely healthy and absolutely beautiful. We decided to give him Sawyer's name as his middle name. I have had a lot of conflicting emotions however. I was on facebook posting Sullivan's picture and I thought about changing my profile picture, which is currently a picture of Stephanie, Sawyer, and myself. I felt guilty that I had that thought, I don't want to diminish the memory of Sawyer by replacing them with Sullivan. It'll be a balancing act, and I don't really know how it is going to work. I am glad that Sullivan is a boy however. When I first found out we were pregnant again one of my first thoughts was how I would react to a new baby that was using Sawyer's clothes, stroller, and car seat. There still is a sense of attachment to those things, what else do I have to attach Sawyer to?
Scott
Sunday, April 15, 2012
A year...
A year ago I received a call no parent wants to hear. I remember it like it was yesterday. I was down in LA, about to visit my kids. It was around noon. I was sitting in a hotel parking lot, I wasn't checked in. I sat there, praying for everything to be OK. I remember the challenge in finding a last minute flight home, sitting in the airport noticing the small kids. My heart was broken for Stephanie, who luckily had some family and friends around her. I have a hard time saying it was the worst weekend of my life, although most of it felt that way. I've never felt more alone, waiting to get home, and I never felt more surrounded and supported by friends and family. I've never felt such sadness before or shed as many tears. But that was the weekend that I saw my daughter for the first time, and was able to hold her. How can that make a weekend so horrible? I guess saying that it was a weekend of contrasts and severe emotions would suffice.
I'm sure the next couple days will be hard, the last week has already been.
Stephanie is pregnant again, with less than 2 months to go. We are having a boy who will be named Sullivan Sawyer Keith. He's been incredibly active, which has been a huge blessing, a constant reminder that things are going OK. We have a heart beat monitor, which we can use whenever we want to double check. A couple weeks ago there was a time when Sullivan wasn't as active as normal. We of course both were worried. but a couple minutes later we were listening to his heart beat.
I'm sure the next couple days will be hard, the last week has already been.
Stephanie is pregnant again, with less than 2 months to go. We are having a boy who will be named Sullivan Sawyer Keith. He's been incredibly active, which has been a huge blessing, a constant reminder that things are going OK. We have a heart beat monitor, which we can use whenever we want to double check. A couple weeks ago there was a time when Sullivan wasn't as active as normal. We of course both were worried. but a couple minutes later we were listening to his heart beat.
Sunday, November 27, 2011
Holidays....
Dear Sawyer,
A couple of days ago we celebrated Thanksgiving with family. I wish you were there. I know this holiday season will be pretty difficult. For Halloween we bought 2 regular size pumpkins and one small pumpkin for you. We didn't carve it though. I think buying you a pumpkin every year will become a tradition, it is one of our favorite holidays.
Thanksgiving was difficult. Your mom hasn't been feeling well and being around family is hard. Sometimes I still want to just be with your mom and not really anyone else. I don't know how I will handle Christmas. We are going back over to Spokane, but there will be a huge something missing. I'd like to get an ornament for you, at least for this year.
Today we stopped by on our way home. It had been raining really hard but right before we got to Snohomish the rain stopped and we had a glimpse of blue sky. We cleaned the leaves off your headstone and placed some flowers.
Your mom is 12 weeks along now. We heard the heartbeat last week and had an ultrasound. Everything looks great and we got a video. I can't wait to find out if you are having a brother or sister.
A couple of days ago we celebrated Thanksgiving with family. I wish you were there. I know this holiday season will be pretty difficult. For Halloween we bought 2 regular size pumpkins and one small pumpkin for you. We didn't carve it though. I think buying you a pumpkin every year will become a tradition, it is one of our favorite holidays.
Thanksgiving was difficult. Your mom hasn't been feeling well and being around family is hard. Sometimes I still want to just be with your mom and not really anyone else. I don't know how I will handle Christmas. We are going back over to Spokane, but there will be a huge something missing. I'd like to get an ornament for you, at least for this year.
Today we stopped by on our way home. It had been raining really hard but right before we got to Snohomish the rain stopped and we had a glimpse of blue sky. We cleaned the leaves off your headstone and placed some flowers.
Your mom is 12 weeks along now. We heard the heartbeat last week and had an ultrasound. Everything looks great and we got a video. I can't wait to find out if you are having a brother or sister.
Sunday, November 13, 2011
Hardest day in awhile...
Dear Sawyer,
It's been almost 7 months. If you were here we'd probably be spending a lot of time playing peek-a-boo. I know I haven't written in awhile, although I talk to you pretty much every day still. I've gone over things to write, but haven't. Today I had to write, it's been tough.
Your aunt Jamie delivered a healthy boy today, your cousin Fritz. There've been so many mixed emotions. I'm glad that they had a pregnancy free from complications, I don't want anyone to go through what your mother and I did. I was pretty nervous while Jamie was pregnant. If things didn't go well it would have been devastating for so many people, including your mom. I think if she did have problems I wouldn't have wanted to try again. Your mom has been with Jamie for most of the day, I'm glad she was able to go and I hope that it is healing for her. I'm sure she'll be there for a few days. I've also been really sad. It's brought back a lot of the feelings of that day, of losing you. Your mom is pregnant and I think that's gotten me on edge a little as well. I'm excited, but I don't know that it's fully sunk in. When I found out I went out and bought a fetal doppler, just like they use in the hospital. Now I'll be able to hear the heartbeat whenever I want to.
I wish you were here.
Love,
Dad
It's been almost 7 months. If you were here we'd probably be spending a lot of time playing peek-a-boo. I know I haven't written in awhile, although I talk to you pretty much every day still. I've gone over things to write, but haven't. Today I had to write, it's been tough.
Your aunt Jamie delivered a healthy boy today, your cousin Fritz. There've been so many mixed emotions. I'm glad that they had a pregnancy free from complications, I don't want anyone to go through what your mother and I did. I was pretty nervous while Jamie was pregnant. If things didn't go well it would have been devastating for so many people, including your mom. I think if she did have problems I wouldn't have wanted to try again. Your mom has been with Jamie for most of the day, I'm glad she was able to go and I hope that it is healing for her. I'm sure she'll be there for a few days. I've also been really sad. It's brought back a lot of the feelings of that day, of losing you. Your mom is pregnant and I think that's gotten me on edge a little as well. I'm excited, but I don't know that it's fully sunk in. When I found out I went out and bought a fetal doppler, just like they use in the hospital. Now I'll be able to hear the heartbeat whenever I want to.
I wish you were here.
Love,
Dad
Monday, August 8, 2011
4 months....
Dear Sawyer,
It's almost been 4 months now. If you had been born on your due date you would have just turned 3 months old. Your mom and I would hopefully be sleeping through the night. I would know what your smile looks like. You'd probably be cooing by now and trying to make conversation with us.
Some days are still pretty hard. This weekend had a few bad moments for me. Shortly after your passing I had bought some rubber bracelets for your mom, grandmothers, and siblings. Your mom's said Mommy of an Angel. Mine says Daddy of an Angel. I hadn't been able to wear mine because it was a little too tight. I tried it this weekend and it fit comfortably. Putting it on was good, but brought a lot of the pain back. I also was able to get my wedding ring on which I haven't been able to wear for 2 years.
On Sunday a friend of mine got to bless his baby girl. I didn't think I was going to be able to sit through it but luckily the mic wasn't working so I couldn't really hear anything. I was really jealous that he had the opportunity to do that and I didn't. Maybe someday after this life I will.
We are still working on the design for your headstone, although hopefully it will be finished soon.
I miss you,
Dad
It's almost been 4 months now. If you had been born on your due date you would have just turned 3 months old. Your mom and I would hopefully be sleeping through the night. I would know what your smile looks like. You'd probably be cooing by now and trying to make conversation with us.
Some days are still pretty hard. This weekend had a few bad moments for me. Shortly after your passing I had bought some rubber bracelets for your mom, grandmothers, and siblings. Your mom's said Mommy of an Angel. Mine says Daddy of an Angel. I hadn't been able to wear mine because it was a little too tight. I tried it this weekend and it fit comfortably. Putting it on was good, but brought a lot of the pain back. I also was able to get my wedding ring on which I haven't been able to wear for 2 years.
On Sunday a friend of mine got to bless his baby girl. I didn't think I was going to be able to sit through it but luckily the mic wasn't working so I couldn't really hear anything. I was really jealous that he had the opportunity to do that and I didn't. Maybe someday after this life I will.
We are still working on the design for your headstone, although hopefully it will be finished soon.
I miss you,
Dad
Thursday, July 14, 2011
Has it been three months already?
Dear Sawyer,
Well, I guess it's been ALMOST three months. 3 more days. It was a Sunday when we held you. I know your mom and I will be coming to see you. Not a day goes by that I don't think about you. I've thought of so many things to write, I can't really explain why I haven't. I know that if you are in the place we believe you to be that you have heard my thoughts to you. The days have gotten marginally better than they were a couple months ago. I still have moments of overwhelming sadness. There are moments at work that I just bury my head in my hands and cry. I think sometimes I do it to myself. I'll play a song that I know will remind me of you, like the song that was played at your funeral. I think I'm doing ok, but I can envision never really getting over this. I imagine when your mom and I finally do get to welcome a baby into the world that the joy will be bitter sweet. I'm sure through out life as we experience first steps, first words, baptism, etc. we will feel joy and sorrow. I've grown somewhat used to that already with Kelsey and Kaiden. I was not given the opportunity to baptism either of them, something I should have been able to do. A year or two ago I was able to baptize a young girl and while I felt incredibly honored and happy to do it I was very sad at the same time. I know that the 8th anniversary of your passing will be hard for me.
On a good note I have felt more motivated to better myself. I've been watching what I eat and working a lot at home. Part of me doesn't want to do anything that would prolong my life. Not that I would ever do anything to end it but I don't want to wait to see you. I know that there are a lot of things here I don't want to miss out on. Although I am anxious to see you, I know that it might be a long wait.
We ordered your headstone last week. I am very glad that we were able to. It really, really bothered me that we had not been able to do that yet. I like the design, and can't wait until it's in.
I miss you,
Dad
Well, I guess it's been ALMOST three months. 3 more days. It was a Sunday when we held you. I know your mom and I will be coming to see you. Not a day goes by that I don't think about you. I've thought of so many things to write, I can't really explain why I haven't. I know that if you are in the place we believe you to be that you have heard my thoughts to you. The days have gotten marginally better than they were a couple months ago. I still have moments of overwhelming sadness. There are moments at work that I just bury my head in my hands and cry. I think sometimes I do it to myself. I'll play a song that I know will remind me of you, like the song that was played at your funeral. I think I'm doing ok, but I can envision never really getting over this. I imagine when your mom and I finally do get to welcome a baby into the world that the joy will be bitter sweet. I'm sure through out life as we experience first steps, first words, baptism, etc. we will feel joy and sorrow. I've grown somewhat used to that already with Kelsey and Kaiden. I was not given the opportunity to baptism either of them, something I should have been able to do. A year or two ago I was able to baptize a young girl and while I felt incredibly honored and happy to do it I was very sad at the same time. I know that the 8th anniversary of your passing will be hard for me.
On a good note I have felt more motivated to better myself. I've been watching what I eat and working a lot at home. Part of me doesn't want to do anything that would prolong my life. Not that I would ever do anything to end it but I don't want to wait to see you. I know that there are a lot of things here I don't want to miss out on. Although I am anxious to see you, I know that it might be a long wait.
We ordered your headstone last week. I am very glad that we were able to. It really, really bothered me that we had not been able to do that yet. I like the design, and can't wait until it's in.
I miss you,
Dad
Sunday, June 19, 2011
Father's day....
Dear Sawyer,
Today has been a pretty hard day. The last week wasn't too bad, although the week before was. The last week was probably as bad as it's been emotionally. I felt like I was a complete wreck at work, although I tried to not let it show. We got the pictures that were taken at the hospital. I am glad that we have them. They are very sad, but comforting that I will never forget what you looked like on the day we saw you.
We went to LA this weekend to see your brother and sister. It was a hard trip for your mom and I. This would have been the first trip we would have probably taken you on. Driving back today was a big reminder of how I feel I'm a failure as a father, sometimes I feel like maybe that's why you were taken away. Maybe I'll never get the chance to be a real father. I don't see your brother and sister as much as I wish I could. I spent Father's day driving away from them and without you. I didn't hear "Happy Father's Day" from your brother or sister. I think those were the only two I really wanted to hear it from. I am glad that nobody else has really said anything, there's really nothing happy about it at all.
Scott
Today has been a pretty hard day. The last week wasn't too bad, although the week before was. The last week was probably as bad as it's been emotionally. I felt like I was a complete wreck at work, although I tried to not let it show. We got the pictures that were taken at the hospital. I am glad that we have them. They are very sad, but comforting that I will never forget what you looked like on the day we saw you.
We went to LA this weekend to see your brother and sister. It was a hard trip for your mom and I. This would have been the first trip we would have probably taken you on. Driving back today was a big reminder of how I feel I'm a failure as a father, sometimes I feel like maybe that's why you were taken away. Maybe I'll never get the chance to be a real father. I don't see your brother and sister as much as I wish I could. I spent Father's day driving away from them and without you. I didn't hear "Happy Father's Day" from your brother or sister. I think those were the only two I really wanted to hear it from. I am glad that nobody else has really said anything, there's really nothing happy about it at all.
Scott
Sunday, June 5, 2011
Dear Sawyer,
I know it's been a while since I have written. I also know that if you somehow can read this then you also know that I talk to you every day. I've tried keeping myself busy. When I'm not at work I have been doing a lot of yard work. I feel the need to make our home a better place. We went to see you today. It was really hard for me. Up until this visit the ground around your grave still looked like it had just been over turned. Today it looked like the ground was settling and the grass was starting to come back in around where the ground had been cut. I feel sad that we haven't been able to get your headstone yet. I hope that we will be able to soon.
We also went to church today but were only able to make it the first hour. We sat behind a family who had a little girl. I tried ignoring her, although it's hard for me. I like making kids laugh. I know your mom was having a hard time. One lady went up and started talking about how well parents know their children. It was hard for me to hear. I wish I knew more about what your personality would have been like. I wish I really knew you. I think that's one of the hardest parts about this whole thing. I looked over at your mom after the comment was made, I knew that it would effect her. When I saw her she got up and walked out into the hallway. I wonder how long it will take before we can make it through all of church.
The past few weeks I've been reflecting a lot on grief and the best way I can explain it for myself is like the tides and the ocean. There are times when it's "low tide" and I feel pretty well. Sometimes this will go on for a day or two. Other times it's like high tide. I feel overwhelmed with grief and it's hard to concentrate on the most basic of tasks. While I'm in a high or low tide there are waves that come. Sometimes I'm feeling fine and a "wave" of grief comes along. It's sort of odd when I'm working, feeling fine, and I get an overwhelming feeling of sadness, The tears come for a second or two and then they just stop and I go back to work.
In a couple days it is the month mark from your due date. I wish you were here.
Love, Dad
I know it's been a while since I have written. I also know that if you somehow can read this then you also know that I talk to you every day. I've tried keeping myself busy. When I'm not at work I have been doing a lot of yard work. I feel the need to make our home a better place. We went to see you today. It was really hard for me. Up until this visit the ground around your grave still looked like it had just been over turned. Today it looked like the ground was settling and the grass was starting to come back in around where the ground had been cut. I feel sad that we haven't been able to get your headstone yet. I hope that we will be able to soon.
We also went to church today but were only able to make it the first hour. We sat behind a family who had a little girl. I tried ignoring her, although it's hard for me. I like making kids laugh. I know your mom was having a hard time. One lady went up and started talking about how well parents know their children. It was hard for me to hear. I wish I knew more about what your personality would have been like. I wish I really knew you. I think that's one of the hardest parts about this whole thing. I looked over at your mom after the comment was made, I knew that it would effect her. When I saw her she got up and walked out into the hallway. I wonder how long it will take before we can make it through all of church.
The past few weeks I've been reflecting a lot on grief and the best way I can explain it for myself is like the tides and the ocean. There are times when it's "low tide" and I feel pretty well. Sometimes this will go on for a day or two. Other times it's like high tide. I feel overwhelmed with grief and it's hard to concentrate on the most basic of tasks. While I'm in a high or low tide there are waves that come. Sometimes I'm feeling fine and a "wave" of grief comes along. It's sort of odd when I'm working, feeling fine, and I get an overwhelming feeling of sadness, The tears come for a second or two and then they just stop and I go back to work.
In a couple days it is the month mark from your due date. I wish you were here.
Love, Dad
Wednesday, May 25, 2011
It's been a month...
Dear Sawyer,
It's been a month and a couple days. I can't believe it's already been this long although it still seems like things just happened. I know it's been a few days since I've written. I know that you know I still think about you constantly. Your mom and I went to California this past weekend to see Kelsey and Kaiden. I know it was a really hard trip for your mom. I was concentrating on staying awake and driving. We brought some things down for Kelsey and Kaiden; a lock of your hair, some pictures, a mold of your feet, and they each got a wristband that said brother/sister of an angel. On the way back from California we stopped by your grave. It was one of the harder visits I've made. I don't like thinking that you are there. I want you in my arms even if that means not getting sleep and changing diapers. There are times when I feel an overwhelming urge to drive down there and see you although usually it's at times when I wouldn't be able too. I can not imagine ever moving away from the area, I don't think I could handle it.
Work has become a little easier. I still have sad moments where I don't feel like I can do much of anything, but it's not happening constantly. Your mom started work today and I know it's been really hard for her.
I miss you,
Dad
It's been a month and a couple days. I can't believe it's already been this long although it still seems like things just happened. I know it's been a few days since I've written. I know that you know I still think about you constantly. Your mom and I went to California this past weekend to see Kelsey and Kaiden. I know it was a really hard trip for your mom. I was concentrating on staying awake and driving. We brought some things down for Kelsey and Kaiden; a lock of your hair, some pictures, a mold of your feet, and they each got a wristband that said brother/sister of an angel. On the way back from California we stopped by your grave. It was one of the harder visits I've made. I don't like thinking that you are there. I want you in my arms even if that means not getting sleep and changing diapers. There are times when I feel an overwhelming urge to drive down there and see you although usually it's at times when I wouldn't be able too. I can not imagine ever moving away from the area, I don't think I could handle it.
Work has become a little easier. I still have sad moments where I don't feel like I can do much of anything, but it's not happening constantly. Your mom started work today and I know it's been really hard for her.
I miss you,
Dad
Saturday, May 14, 2011
Saturday, I wish you were here...
Dear Sawyer,
I sure wish you were here right now. Yesterday we got a puppy. His name is Tank and he's a beautiful, big dog. Only 8 or 9 months old, so he still has lots of energy. I got him because I thought he'd help Stephanie, but I think he's helping me more. We've spent a lot of time together the last 24 hours. He gets worried when I leave, and he follows me around when I'm here. I like having him around and he's helped keep my mind off the grief. Tonight was a different story though. We went to the baptism for the daughter of one of our friends. I thought about how I was never going to be able to baptize you. I think your mom had a hard time as well. I was not able to baptize Kelsey or Kaiden, even though I really wanted to. I was really looking forward to your baptism. I was asked to say the closing prayer. I didn't hesitate when I was asked a few days ago, but hadn't thought about how it would affect me. I was close to tears when I had to say the prayer. We had just sung "I am a child of God." Well, everyone else sung, your mom and I couldn't.
I wish you could have been here for this.
Love,
Dad
I sure wish you were here right now. Yesterday we got a puppy. His name is Tank and he's a beautiful, big dog. Only 8 or 9 months old, so he still has lots of energy. I got him because I thought he'd help Stephanie, but I think he's helping me more. We've spent a lot of time together the last 24 hours. He gets worried when I leave, and he follows me around when I'm here. I like having him around and he's helped keep my mind off the grief. Tonight was a different story though. We went to the baptism for the daughter of one of our friends. I thought about how I was never going to be able to baptize you. I think your mom had a hard time as well. I was not able to baptize Kelsey or Kaiden, even though I really wanted to. I was really looking forward to your baptism. I was asked to say the closing prayer. I didn't hesitate when I was asked a few days ago, but hadn't thought about how it would affect me. I was close to tears when I had to say the prayer. We had just sung "I am a child of God." Well, everyone else sung, your mom and I couldn't.
I wish you could have been here for this.
Love,
Dad
Thursday, May 12, 2011
The next stage...
Dear Sawyer,
I think the whole "stages" of grief theory is probably created by people who have never actually been through something like this. I think everyone handles grief differently and that it isn't always that you move from one stage to the next. I think you can sometimes be going through two of the stages at the same time. I think you can also move back and forth between "stages".
I have noticed a difference though in the past couple days. I feel like I'm walking through molasses. I think a lot of the shock is worn off and now it's time to deal with the reality of it all. Ever since we found out that you were coming I had wanted you to wait until today to be born. I wanted to share my birthday with you. Tonight we are having a bowling party of sorts. On one hand I am excited for it, but I'd almost rather just cancel the whole thing, forget that it's my birthday and just go curl up somewhere. I feel like it would be really easy for me to just shut down right now. It would be so easy to just let the grief overcome me. I'm walking on the edge of a cliff. There are times when it is only my family, friends, or faith in God that are keeping me from going over the edge.
Dad
I think the whole "stages" of grief theory is probably created by people who have never actually been through something like this. I think everyone handles grief differently and that it isn't always that you move from one stage to the next. I think you can sometimes be going through two of the stages at the same time. I think you can also move back and forth between "stages".
I have noticed a difference though in the past couple days. I feel like I'm walking through molasses. I think a lot of the shock is worn off and now it's time to deal with the reality of it all. Ever since we found out that you were coming I had wanted you to wait until today to be born. I wanted to share my birthday with you. Tonight we are having a bowling party of sorts. On one hand I am excited for it, but I'd almost rather just cancel the whole thing, forget that it's my birthday and just go curl up somewhere. I feel like it would be really easy for me to just shut down right now. It would be so easy to just let the grief overcome me. I'm walking on the edge of a cliff. There are times when it is only my family, friends, or faith in God that are keeping me from going over the edge.
Dad
Tuesday, May 10, 2011
The hardest day so far...
Dear Sawyer,
I don't know what it was about today but I think it's been the hardest so far since your passing. I was on my way to work this morning and heard a song called "Here Without You." I realize that the person who wrote the song did so with a diffferent context but the chorus really got to me.
I'm here without you baby
But you're still on my lonely mind
I think about you baby
and I dream about you all the time
I cried pretty much the whole way to work, the chorus constantly playing in my mind. I got to work, wiped away the tears and tried to make it quickly to my office. I got to my office and they started flowing again. I'm glad I have some privacy...
I had a nice lunch break with a friend, which helped provide a distraction. When I got back from lunch I listened to the song again and then listened to the song from your funeral, the first time I have done that since then. I was a wreck. I couldn't concentrate very well, except on you. I thought about holding you, putting you in your car seat, placing your small casket in the grave. These memories are constantly playing in my mind. I want to keep remembering them because I never want to forget them. I don't want your memory to fade. I almost wish that these moments were on video so that if I ever felt like I was forgetting something I could go back and watch it. Not that I'm worried that I'll forget about you. There will never be a day in my life that someone will have to remind me that I had a daughter named Sawyer, that she was a beautiful girl with red hair, her mother's mouth, nose, and attached ear lobes.
Sometimes in my dreams I picture you. You are almost always an adult and the dreams are so vivid that if you were standing in a crowd I could pick you out. There are other times when I see you as a small child, running, laughing. I wish I knew what your laugh sounded like. I wish that when I imagine your smile that it was because I know what it looks like. I wish just once I would be able to hear you tell me that you love me.
C.S. Lewis once said "No one ever told me that grief felt so much like fear." I wish I could say that he was wrong, but it's true. I know I'm afraid of this happening to our next child. I am afraid that if we lose another one that I wouldn't have the strength to try a third time. I'm afraid that I am going to lose other family members. I think if I was honest with myself I would question why you were taken from us. We did everything that we could do to make sure you were going to be healthy. Why did God choose you? I've seen so many parents take their children for granted, or show a lack of concern for their well being. Why is it my baby that I lose?
Love,
Dad
I don't know what it was about today but I think it's been the hardest so far since your passing. I was on my way to work this morning and heard a song called "Here Without You." I realize that the person who wrote the song did so with a diffferent context but the chorus really got to me.
I'm here without you baby
But you're still on my lonely mind
I think about you baby
and I dream about you all the time
I cried pretty much the whole way to work, the chorus constantly playing in my mind. I got to work, wiped away the tears and tried to make it quickly to my office. I got to my office and they started flowing again. I'm glad I have some privacy...
I had a nice lunch break with a friend, which helped provide a distraction. When I got back from lunch I listened to the song again and then listened to the song from your funeral, the first time I have done that since then. I was a wreck. I couldn't concentrate very well, except on you. I thought about holding you, putting you in your car seat, placing your small casket in the grave. These memories are constantly playing in my mind. I want to keep remembering them because I never want to forget them. I don't want your memory to fade. I almost wish that these moments were on video so that if I ever felt like I was forgetting something I could go back and watch it. Not that I'm worried that I'll forget about you. There will never be a day in my life that someone will have to remind me that I had a daughter named Sawyer, that she was a beautiful girl with red hair, her mother's mouth, nose, and attached ear lobes.
Sometimes in my dreams I picture you. You are almost always an adult and the dreams are so vivid that if you were standing in a crowd I could pick you out. There are other times when I see you as a small child, running, laughing. I wish I knew what your laugh sounded like. I wish that when I imagine your smile that it was because I know what it looks like. I wish just once I would be able to hear you tell me that you love me.
C.S. Lewis once said "No one ever told me that grief felt so much like fear." I wish I could say that he was wrong, but it's true. I know I'm afraid of this happening to our next child. I am afraid that if we lose another one that I wouldn't have the strength to try a third time. I'm afraid that I am going to lose other family members. I think if I was honest with myself I would question why you were taken from us. We did everything that we could do to make sure you were going to be healthy. Why did God choose you? I've seen so many parents take their children for granted, or show a lack of concern for their well being. Why is it my baby that I lose?
Love,
Dad
Sunday, May 8, 2011
Mother's Day....
Dear Stephanie,
I know I normally write to Sawyer but I felt today it was appropriate to write to you. I want you and Sawyer to know how much I truly think of you.
You are without a doubt one of the strongest people I know. I understand that sometimes you don't feel that way, but it is true. Being strong doesn't mean you won't feel sad. Being strong doesn't mean you won't cry. Somedays you might even feel like you won't be able to make it, but that doesn't mean you aren't strong.
If I was in your position I have no idea how I would make it. While we both have lost our daughter, we are not going through the same experience. I have been a father for some years, and have been through a lot of the experiences you were looking forward to. While I feel "robbed", it's not on the same level as I imagine you feel.
I know today has been really hard. I could see the pain in your face when the woman asked you if you were a mother this morning. I know how excited you were to have Sawyer, to finally be a mother. I even think you sometimes looked forward to changing diapers and cleaning up spit up. I'm glad that we were able to get away for a weekend, to spend time with each other. In some ways it felt like we were back to "normal" but I know for us, normal now is not what our normal was.
I look forward to continue building my life with you. We will have so many good experiences to come and I'm excited to go through them with you.
Love, Scott
I know I normally write to Sawyer but I felt today it was appropriate to write to you. I want you and Sawyer to know how much I truly think of you.
You are without a doubt one of the strongest people I know. I understand that sometimes you don't feel that way, but it is true. Being strong doesn't mean you won't feel sad. Being strong doesn't mean you won't cry. Somedays you might even feel like you won't be able to make it, but that doesn't mean you aren't strong.
If I was in your position I have no idea how I would make it. While we both have lost our daughter, we are not going through the same experience. I have been a father for some years, and have been through a lot of the experiences you were looking forward to. While I feel "robbed", it's not on the same level as I imagine you feel.
I know today has been really hard. I could see the pain in your face when the woman asked you if you were a mother this morning. I know how excited you were to have Sawyer, to finally be a mother. I even think you sometimes looked forward to changing diapers and cleaning up spit up. I'm glad that we were able to get away for a weekend, to spend time with each other. In some ways it felt like we were back to "normal" but I know for us, normal now is not what our normal was.
I look forward to continue building my life with you. We will have so many good experiences to come and I'm excited to go through them with you.
Love, Scott
Saturday, May 7, 2011
The Due Date...
Dear Sawyer,
Today was the day (or there abouts) that we were supposed to welcome you into the world. May 7th. I had hoped that you would wait until my birthday on the 12th. Although people thought I was crazy I think it would have been cool to share that date with you. Joint parties at Chuckie Cheeses anyone? I wonder if you would have been here with us now. The last couple days things have gotten harder. I've thought about you more, I've cried more. I don't know if it's because this weekend was your due date, or mother's day, or something else. Maybe the shock of it all is starting to wear off, maybe I'm starting to realize this isn't some crazy nightmare. I'm not going to wake up to hear you crying, or your mother telling me it's time to go to the hospital. I'd rather not get sleep because you need to be fed and get your diaper changed then to not sleep because of the pain.
On Thursday I broke down at work. Luckily not too many people pass my office, I doubt anyone there knew. I had gotten a link to a website that helps parents that have lost a child. I started reading some of the stories, including some from dads that have been in the same situation I am in. Their writing was beautiful, their stories so sad. Not all of the dads lost their children when they were babies. I read one story of a father that lost his daughter right before she turned 14. I don't know what would be harder. To lose a child that you had known for 13 years, or to feel robbed of the memories and experiences. In some ways I felt jealous of the dad. What I wouldn't give to be able to spend 13 years with you, but I don't know that I could handle the loss. It got me thinking about what I would do if I lost your older sister Kelsey. She just turned 13. Would I be grateful for the time I had with her? Or would it be harder because I would miss her smile, miss her laughter, all of the good times we had, and even the sassy comments.
On Friday your mom and I went to Orcas Island. We had to take a ferry to get there, and we had a few hours to wait until we could check into the hotel room. It's a fairly big island so there was plenty to do. I had told myself that this weekend I wouldn't think about anything but being here and relaxing. It hasn't worked so well. Your mom and I went for a walk on the beach. I thought about you. I thought about how fun it would be to watch you discover the world. What would you do if you turned over a rock and saw a small crab run out of it? What would you do if you picked up a slimy piece of seaweed? Would you be like your mom and be disgusted by it, or would you be more like me and start playing with it? We drove up to the top of the highest mountain here. There is a large stone tower you can climb up and see all the way around. Unfortunately it was a little cloudy so we couldn't see much. I thought of how much you would probably like the view, but then I realized that it probably doesn't compare to the view you have now. I often wonder what you are doing. Are you watching down on us? Who have you spent time with up there?
While your passing has made me more firm in my beliefs it has also raised so many questions about how the whole thing works. I have a firmer belief that we will be together again, that we will get to spend all of the time together that we missed out on.
I wish I could see you grow up. I've seen pictures of your mom when she was young and she was pretty cute. I know that you had your mom's ears, nose, mouth, and red hair. I bet you would have looked a lot like her.
Love,
Dad
Today was the day (or there abouts) that we were supposed to welcome you into the world. May 7th. I had hoped that you would wait until my birthday on the 12th. Although people thought I was crazy I think it would have been cool to share that date with you. Joint parties at Chuckie Cheeses anyone? I wonder if you would have been here with us now. The last couple days things have gotten harder. I've thought about you more, I've cried more. I don't know if it's because this weekend was your due date, or mother's day, or something else. Maybe the shock of it all is starting to wear off, maybe I'm starting to realize this isn't some crazy nightmare. I'm not going to wake up to hear you crying, or your mother telling me it's time to go to the hospital. I'd rather not get sleep because you need to be fed and get your diaper changed then to not sleep because of the pain.
On Thursday I broke down at work. Luckily not too many people pass my office, I doubt anyone there knew. I had gotten a link to a website that helps parents that have lost a child. I started reading some of the stories, including some from dads that have been in the same situation I am in. Their writing was beautiful, their stories so sad. Not all of the dads lost their children when they were babies. I read one story of a father that lost his daughter right before she turned 14. I don't know what would be harder. To lose a child that you had known for 13 years, or to feel robbed of the memories and experiences. In some ways I felt jealous of the dad. What I wouldn't give to be able to spend 13 years with you, but I don't know that I could handle the loss. It got me thinking about what I would do if I lost your older sister Kelsey. She just turned 13. Would I be grateful for the time I had with her? Or would it be harder because I would miss her smile, miss her laughter, all of the good times we had, and even the sassy comments.
On Friday your mom and I went to Orcas Island. We had to take a ferry to get there, and we had a few hours to wait until we could check into the hotel room. It's a fairly big island so there was plenty to do. I had told myself that this weekend I wouldn't think about anything but being here and relaxing. It hasn't worked so well. Your mom and I went for a walk on the beach. I thought about you. I thought about how fun it would be to watch you discover the world. What would you do if you turned over a rock and saw a small crab run out of it? What would you do if you picked up a slimy piece of seaweed? Would you be like your mom and be disgusted by it, or would you be more like me and start playing with it? We drove up to the top of the highest mountain here. There is a large stone tower you can climb up and see all the way around. Unfortunately it was a little cloudy so we couldn't see much. I thought of how much you would probably like the view, but then I realized that it probably doesn't compare to the view you have now. I often wonder what you are doing. Are you watching down on us? Who have you spent time with up there?
While your passing has made me more firm in my beliefs it has also raised so many questions about how the whole thing works. I have a firmer belief that we will be together again, that we will get to spend all of the time together that we missed out on.
I wish I could see you grow up. I've seen pictures of your mom when she was young and she was pretty cute. I know that you had your mom's ears, nose, mouth, and red hair. I bet you would have looked a lot like her.
Love,
Dad
Wednesday, May 4, 2011
So... do you have any kids?
Dear Sawyer,
Today I don't know what to do. It's been a good day, but this evening we decided to go introduce ourselves to our new neighbors. She asked if we had any kids. We said no. I know that she was asking if we have any kids at home, since she has two, but the answer didn't sit well with me. We do have a child, while you are not with us in our home now you will be with us forever. Your mom and I spent awhile discussing it and I think I know what I'll say next time. I think saying no is a disservice to your memory. Maybe you don't mind that answer, but I want you to be acknowledged. I'm not looking for pity if I told someone we had a daughter that passed. If there was any follow up conversation they would know how blessed we feel to be able to hold you for the time that we did. They would know how many good things have come out of this. Well, I'm sorry to keep this so short but I have to finish up one of my classes tonight. It'll be good to get school done with and be able to take a break.
Love,
Dad
Today I don't know what to do. It's been a good day, but this evening we decided to go introduce ourselves to our new neighbors. She asked if we had any kids. We said no. I know that she was asking if we have any kids at home, since she has two, but the answer didn't sit well with me. We do have a child, while you are not with us in our home now you will be with us forever. Your mom and I spent awhile discussing it and I think I know what I'll say next time. I think saying no is a disservice to your memory. Maybe you don't mind that answer, but I want you to be acknowledged. I'm not looking for pity if I told someone we had a daughter that passed. If there was any follow up conversation they would know how blessed we feel to be able to hold you for the time that we did. They would know how many good things have come out of this. Well, I'm sorry to keep this so short but I have to finish up one of my classes tonight. It'll be good to get school done with and be able to take a break.
Love,
Dad
Sunday, May 1, 2011
2 weeks
Dear Sawyer,
Tonight will be short. It's late and I'm getting pretty tired. Today turned out to be a pretty good day. This morning we had a bit of a scare when your mom was having some difficulties. We didn't know if they were common after childbirth or not so we talked to the midwife. She advised us to go into the hospital which we did. We spent an hour or so there and everything checked out fine. It was a big relief. I have this fear that I am going to lose her as well. Your passing was so sudden to us. Who knows when it will be my time or when it will be your mom's time. As much as we want to see you, hopefully we last for a long time on this Earth. My other fear is that something happens and your mom is unable to get pregnant again. I mentioned this before, but it weighed heavily on my mind today. I bought a blood pressure monitor this morning so that we can keep track of your mom. When she becomes pregnant again, it will be nice to have around. I'm sure we'll also get one of those devices that allow you to listen to the baby's heart beat. I bet we'll use it every night.
This afternoon we met up with your Uncle Brian, Aunt Brianna, and your cousins; Elijah, Isaac, and Eve. Elijah, who is 12, is only about an inch shorter than me! We came to your grave and planted flowers in the nearby planter. There were 2 small shrubs before, now it is full of daffodils, pansies, and a pink azalea. They also planted sweet pea seeds.
I hope you like it!
Love,
Dad
Tonight will be short. It's late and I'm getting pretty tired. Today turned out to be a pretty good day. This morning we had a bit of a scare when your mom was having some difficulties. We didn't know if they were common after childbirth or not so we talked to the midwife. She advised us to go into the hospital which we did. We spent an hour or so there and everything checked out fine. It was a big relief. I have this fear that I am going to lose her as well. Your passing was so sudden to us. Who knows when it will be my time or when it will be your mom's time. As much as we want to see you, hopefully we last for a long time on this Earth. My other fear is that something happens and your mom is unable to get pregnant again. I mentioned this before, but it weighed heavily on my mind today. I bought a blood pressure monitor this morning so that we can keep track of your mom. When she becomes pregnant again, it will be nice to have around. I'm sure we'll also get one of those devices that allow you to listen to the baby's heart beat. I bet we'll use it every night.
This afternoon we met up with your Uncle Brian, Aunt Brianna, and your cousins; Elijah, Isaac, and Eve. Elijah, who is 12, is only about an inch shorter than me! We came to your grave and planted flowers in the nearby planter. There were 2 small shrubs before, now it is full of daffodils, pansies, and a pink azalea. They also planted sweet pea seeds.
Love,
Dad
Saturday, April 30, 2011
What a day....
Normally I have started my posts as a letter directly to Sawyer. The posts reflect what I would want Sawyer to know about how we are handling things. While they are written with her as the main audience I obviously realize that other people will be reading my blog and so I also write in a way to help others understand how we are going through the grief process. I have been somewhat conflicted about what I was going to write about today. This morning I had a very personal, spiritual experience. While I am normally very open, my faith is very important to me. I want to share the experience, but I also want to maintain the sacredness of it.
For those that are reading this who are unfamiliar with LDS (Mormon) beliefs, one of the activities we love to do is worship and learn in one of our temples. It is a sacred and special experience for us. Inside every temple is a room for quiet thought and meditation. We believe that it is the closest we will get to God on this Earth. The rooms are both elegant and simple and called the celestial room. http://www.moroni10.com/LDS/Temple_Tour/Celestial_Room.html is a link to a few pictures of what the rooms look like.
Dear Sawyer,
Today has been a peaceful, comforting day. Not completely devoid of sadness, but good none the less. I got a text message a couple days ago from Katharina asking if I wanted to go to the temple with Aaron. We needed to be there before 6am so I was a little reluctant at first. I sure like getting as much sleep as I can, but I thought this would be a good opportunity to spend time with Aaron. This morning I awoke early and we went to the temple. The session was really great. Afterwards I went into the Celestial room and sat quietly thinking about you. I realized that if you were with God and the Celestial room is the closest I will get to God on this earth then I knew at that moment that I was the closest to you I will ever get in this life. I sat quietly and it wasn't long before the tears started to flow. Within a few moments though the tears stopped and the most comforting feeling came over me. I felt you so close to me. I could picture you looking down on me, surrounded by family that have already passed. I didn't want to leave, but at the same time I felt guilty that your mom wasn't there experiencing the same thing I was.
After the temple Aaron and I went to Snohomish and had breakfast. We drove up to the cemetary afterwards and I spent a few solemn minutes standing next to you. Aaron was unable to make it to your funeral so this was the first time he had been there. The weather was nice and the flowers still looked beautiful.
The rest of the day was really good. As I was driving home after dropping Aaron off I passed a friend of mine who I hadn't talked to in a while. He's been going through a rough patch as well so I thought I'd give him a call. I'm glad I did. His son has been having a really hard time and due to some bad circumstances they are not able to spend time together. I could tell how much he worried about his son. I spoke to the boy's mother and expressed my desire to help them out as much as I could. She mentioned that he had expressed a desire to see me a couple times so I decided to invite him along for some bowling. In the early afternoon I went bowling with him, your mom, and Grandma Sherri. We had a really good time and I got my highest score to date, a 225. We came back home and played some video games before I took him back home.
I hope you are doing well. I cannot wait for the day that we are together again.
Love, Dad.
For those that are reading this who are unfamiliar with LDS (Mormon) beliefs, one of the activities we love to do is worship and learn in one of our temples. It is a sacred and special experience for us. Inside every temple is a room for quiet thought and meditation. We believe that it is the closest we will get to God on this Earth. The rooms are both elegant and simple and called the celestial room. http://www.moroni10.com/LDS/Temple_Tour/Celestial_Room.html is a link to a few pictures of what the rooms look like.
Dear Sawyer,
Today has been a peaceful, comforting day. Not completely devoid of sadness, but good none the less. I got a text message a couple days ago from Katharina asking if I wanted to go to the temple with Aaron. We needed to be there before 6am so I was a little reluctant at first. I sure like getting as much sleep as I can, but I thought this would be a good opportunity to spend time with Aaron. This morning I awoke early and we went to the temple. The session was really great. Afterwards I went into the Celestial room and sat quietly thinking about you. I realized that if you were with God and the Celestial room is the closest I will get to God on this earth then I knew at that moment that I was the closest to you I will ever get in this life. I sat quietly and it wasn't long before the tears started to flow. Within a few moments though the tears stopped and the most comforting feeling came over me. I felt you so close to me. I could picture you looking down on me, surrounded by family that have already passed. I didn't want to leave, but at the same time I felt guilty that your mom wasn't there experiencing the same thing I was.
After the temple Aaron and I went to Snohomish and had breakfast. We drove up to the cemetary afterwards and I spent a few solemn minutes standing next to you. Aaron was unable to make it to your funeral so this was the first time he had been there. The weather was nice and the flowers still looked beautiful.
The rest of the day was really good. As I was driving home after dropping Aaron off I passed a friend of mine who I hadn't talked to in a while. He's been going through a rough patch as well so I thought I'd give him a call. I'm glad I did. His son has been having a really hard time and due to some bad circumstances they are not able to spend time together. I could tell how much he worried about his son. I spoke to the boy's mother and expressed my desire to help them out as much as I could. She mentioned that he had expressed a desire to see me a couple times so I decided to invite him along for some bowling. In the early afternoon I went bowling with him, your mom, and Grandma Sherri. We had a really good time and I got my highest score to date, a 225. We came back home and played some video games before I took him back home.
I hope you are doing well. I cannot wait for the day that we are together again.
Love, Dad.
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