Dear Ezra,

Today should have been your 4th birthday. Your beautiful red hair might be shaggy. You might love snuggling with your sister on the couch as she reads to you. Maybe you’d be really into building lego creations with your dad. You definitely would be bringing joy and love to our family. There is this wall of time that keeps growing with each passing day, week, month. What I wouldn’t give to break down this wall and have just a few moments with you again. So many things tell me that a great deal of time has passed. Little boys your age are now running and wrestling and driving their big sisters crazy. I have to scroll back further and further on my phone to see photos of you. Daisy seems so little in those pictures. But you are frozen in time. You will forever be 8 months 6 days old. We have adopted a little baby girl. Not to replace you- no one could every replace you, sweet Ezra. But because you taught us how big our hearts could grow. Because we learned that we have the capacity to love another child as powerfully and wholly as we love Daisy. Because Daisy is an extraordinary big sister and that experience was stolen from her. On this, what would have been your 4th birthday, Ruby will be 8 months 4 days old. There is a dark irony to this- and to much of what has happened over the last 4 years. I wish I could have spared you this fate. I wish I could have spared our family, especially Daisy, the pain of losing someone we love so very much. We try hard to keep your spirit with us. We talk about you- especially to Ruby. Your pictures are all over our house. In our dining room, the lights flicker from time to time and we pretend it is you letting us know you are with us. And you are, sweet boy. You reside deep in my heart and I hold you there so tightly and with so much love. I miss you every single day. Every. Single. Day. It is a chronic ache that I can not put into words. If only I could break down this wall of time, for just a moment. To gaze into your big brown eyes, to smell your little toes, to hear your beautiful giggle. Today we will probably head to the ocean. It is where I like to go on anniversaries like this because the ocean is both calming and comforting to me. Being there makes me feel very small in the world and sometimes that just feels good. We will look for heart rocks and pretend they are little love messages from you. Because that is what we do- we look for you everywhere… to connect, to remember, to do our best to feel whole again. I love you.