Sunday, December 11, 2011


Kaden & Santa December 2009

Layne & Santa December 2011

Hi sweet girl... Another month has passed. You continue to be on our minds and in our hearts throughout every day. As we get ready for another Christmas season, life is bittersweet. We have so very much to be thankful for, yet we still feel incomplete.

Today we celebrated your life and the power of friendship. Your Donna Ma prepared a special gathering to thank many friends and relatives who reached out to all of us over the past year. It was a special afternoon filled with good company and an opportunity to share about you. Your Aunt Alex even made special ornaments with your picture for people to hang on their tree. I love that it was a good day. I love that people haven't forgotten about you. And, I love that people can see our family is okay. It's our special friends and family that have helped us so much.

This time of year we come upon another milestone in this journey of grief. Last year we were completely miserable. Everything festive was piercingly painful. Everything good around us felt like a slap in the face. All we could do is remember what we had and know that it would never be again.

This year is different. Perhaps it's because we have Baby Layne to help make our days brighter. Your baby sister is such a blessing to our entire family. She makes us smile each day and helps remind us of you. She certainly has a personality like no other, but in many ways her mannerisms are just like yours. It's the little things that Mommy appreciates with little Layne. The smell of her hair, the squish of her chunky little thighs, her warm head resting on your shoulder before bed, the pat of her hand on your arm when you hold her. All of these are the things Mommy and Daddy miss so much about you. So when we get these times with Layne we savor them more than we ever knew we should before. In these precious moments with Layne we are reminded of how great it was to have and love you even if only for a short time.

As we venture through each milestone we are reminded just how far we have come in a year. Though we may get more used to living with an empty feeling in our hearts, we will never stop remembering and loving you, our sweet baby girl.

Friday, November 11, 2011



Sweet Baby Kaden,

On the day you were born Mommy found significance with the number 11. The eleventh of February was the single most life-changing day of Mommy's life. Each month as you grew a little more it became my simple mission to celebrate your day. Mommy always called it your special day for the very reason that I wanted you to know just how loved you were. Early on I imagined that as we added more babies to our little family, each one would have their own day reflective of their birthday.

To me, the eleventh was even more special because it was the day after Mommy and Daddy were married. Soon after Mommy and Daddy were married, we set aside the tenth as "You and Me Day". Mommy and Daddy would always go out on a special date on the tenth of each month. After you were born, we jokingly called the tenth "You, Me, and We Day" to include you. =) Mommy loved how these two special days fell back to back.

Mommy has always been funny about numbers. Math was always my favorite subject growing up. Mommy is one of those people who likes to find patterns in numbers, count to see how many steps it takes to walk up the stairs or reach the car from the door. Mommy chose 6.10.06 as her and Daddy's wedding date because the idea of symmetry in numbers seemed pretty neat. I know it probably sounds pretty dorky, but that's just how Mommy's brain works. I'm no mathematician, but numbers have always been so intriguing.

I have to say, I've never thought of myself as superstitious, nor have I ever believed in supernatural powers or experiences of any kind. I really don't believe in all that stuff. Maybe it's because your Aunt Keshia made Mommy watch too many scary movies about those sorts of things when I was younger. Maybe it's because that stuff creeps me out when I think of the possible bad things that could come about if you dive too deep into it all.

Even though I do not believe in all that, I do think there is something to be said about the significance of time related to you.

On July 10, 2010 you went to sleep and never woke up again.

At 11:11 p.m. Mommy and Daddy got the call from the EMT while driving back from a wedding in Cincinnati.

After the fog lifted in the days following your visitation and funeral, Mommy started to take note of the number 11 on the clocks in the house. It seemed like every time I glanced at the time the clocks always read some hour and 11. Those first few months after you passed you were always on my mind - every second, every minute, every hour. When I would see the clock read 11 I would tell myself that you must be thinking of us. That would make me smile.

After a month or two of noticing this coincidence with the number 11 I mentioned it to Daddy.

In the middle of the night I would wake up just to look up and see 3:11 or 4:11 shine brightly on the clock. When I would go to make a call or return a text, 2:11 or 5:11 would reflect back to me. Daddy would start to notice it too.

About this time we also received the official certificate no parent ever wants to receive. On it was the time of your death - 11:10 p.m.

In some unusual way Mommy likes to think that your first minute in heaven was at 11:11. At that very same moment on earth, Mommy and Daddy were getting a gut-wrenching call telling us you were no longer here. I also like to think that the next day, July 11, 2010 you spent your special day with Jesus.

To a lot of people this all probably sounds completely crazy. I think of it as a special way of you telling Mommy you are okay.

Everyday I see the number 11 on a clock. Sometimes I see it four or five times in one day. I used to wonder if I was looking for the number in a desperate attempt to share just one minute with you. But after taking note of what is taking place during that instant, I know it is beyond me.

In May when Layne had her newborn pictures taken with Michele, sweet memories of your first photos flashed in my mind. I happened to glance up at the clock and saw the time read 2:11. This summer when Mommy was rushing to make Layne's footprints for Daddy's Father's Day card before he got home, I thought for a moment about how much fun you would have had doing it with us. I glanced up in a hurry to check the time and the microwave clock read 11:11. This morning after sharing a story about you to my teaching assistant at school I glanced down to check a video on my computer and saw the time 8:11. These are just a few instances. I could easily give 20 more.

Whether it's on my alarm clock, stove, cell phone, computer, or television, when I see the number 11 on a digital clock I always pause for a moment to think of you. Sometimes I smile. And sometimes I sigh wondering what that very moment would be like if you were still here with us. I think it is somehow your special way of saying you miss us, too.

Mommy has heard that if you google the significance of the number eleven many things will note some kind of spiritual connection associated with that number. I like to think that. In some bizarre way, it makes me happy to think that your spirit lives with us - even if it's only through a number.

Love you and miss you baby girl.

Tuesday, October 11, 2011


Today is another Kaden Day. The 11th is my favorite day of each month. I look forward to celebrating your day.

A year ago that was far from true. Last year the 11th was one of the toughest days of each month for Mommy. I would get so sad thinking of how much older you would be and wonder what all you would be doing if you were still here. I still wonder how long your hair might be by now and how you might be as a little girl. Those things don't change. I think they probably never will. I think we just get used to the idea that we will always wonder and never know for sure until we see you again in heaven.

Tonight Mommy and Daddy went to our monthly meeting with other parents who have lost a child suddenly or for unexplained reasons. Tonight we had a nice man come share about the many stages of grief. As part of our discussion we were able to watch small video clips of a former pastor share about his experience serving those who experience loss.

While many parts of the clips were relevant, one part stood out to me most. Significance. He explained that when a someone loses a loved one there is always a dimension of grief that is experienced. When a parent loses a child, that dimension is called the Significance Dimension. It is very different than any other grief.

When a parent loses a child, they often feel it is their responsibility to establish their child's significance in this world. When an adult passes away their significance can be found and remembered. In most cases adults work to establish their significance themselves throughout their lives. When a child passes away, there is a level of responsibility many parents feel to establish that significance for their child. Perhaps it is fear that others will forget.

My sweet Kaden Layne, I hope you know how significant you are to Mommy and Daddy. Your being here changed us in so many ways for the better. You are in our thoughts each morning and throughout the day. Little things remind us of you and bring smiles to our faces. You are in our conversations, and memories of you bring laughter and joy to our days.

My sweet Kaden Layne, you will never be forgotten.

Love you sweet girl.

Sunday, September 11, 2011

Kaden Layne Harris ~ 3 months old

It's September 11th and I think of you, sweet girl. I also think of all the families who are remembering their lost loved ones today. All week long there have been special programs on television documenting the many men and women who lost their lives on this day ten years ago. I listen to their individual stories and hear about how their families have done their best to move on. Even though it is so different, Mommy and Daddy somehow relate to their pain.

Mommy has learned one for sure thing since that last night in July '10- loss is loss. No matter what kind, it all hurts. The emotions are the same. The fullness, the hope, the love, the affection are all lost or changed forever.

The one good that comes from Mommy's experience of having and losing you is this - I feel for others in a way I never knew how to before. When I look at people now I often wonder in what ways they have been changed by life. I know now that everybody truly is somebody to someone. You are my special somebody and I will never forget you.

As time passes and your little sister grows, Daddy and I are overjoyed by sweet memories of you. Layne certainly has her own personality and features, but it's so easy to find a little of you in her, too. We love that so much.

Sometimes Mommy shows Layne your videos. It's neat to see her stare at you. I wonder what she's thinking when she watches you play, squeel, and laugh? I wonder what it would have been like to have you here with her. I bet you would have loved her so much. I bet she would have loved you too.

We sure miss you sweet Kaden Layne...

Thursday, August 11, 2011

When You Wake Up...

When Mommy was pregnant with you I read everything I could get my hands on. Just like many first time Mommies I wanted to do everything by the book. I was determined to find the best ways to do it all. What I wanted most was for you to be a good sleeper.

Babywise was the book I loved most. I had heard all kinds of people use this approach. I loved the matter-of-fact nature of the nap and bedtime routines. What I liked most was the idea that sleep would be a happy time, not frustrating. Even though it took all kinds of convincing on Mommy's part to get all your grandma's on board with the idea of not rocking you to sleep, eventually they complied - at least when Mommy was around :).

Somewhere in my search to make you the best baby I could, I also read about the importance of reassuring your baby you would always return. Every time Mommy laid you in your bed for a nap or put you down for the night I would always say the same things. I was adamant that bedtime would be an enjoyable part of your day.

From the time you were eight weeks old you proved to be a good sleeper. While nap times were sometimes more difficult than bedtimes, within a few months you were going down for both with barely a fuss. By the time you were a year old nap and bedtimes were easy breezy. Once laid in your bed Mommy would run my finger down the slope of your tiny little nose, gently tap the end, and say "Mommy will see you when you wake up!". You would smile real sweet, close your eyes, tilt your head to one side, and start twirling your hair between your fingers. In the baby monitor, Mommy would watch you doze off.

At every nap and every bedtime I said those words to you just before you drifted off to sleepy town. I never thought in a million years there would be a time when that wouldn't be true.

Sweet Kaden Layne, we miss you so much. We cannot believe Mommy and Daddy laid you down to sleep for the last time over a year ago. Everyday we are reminded how blessed we were to have you, even if only for a few months. We are thankful for the memories we made and the joy we shared during those short 16 months.

Each day, as we look at your little sister, we see more and more of you. Sometimes it's in her appearance. Other times it's in her little personality. We embrace all the tender moments a Mommy and Daddy share with their new baby and reminisce in the precious times we spent with you, Sweet Baby Girl, on this earth.

We miss you sweet girl.

Monday, July 11, 2011


When Mommy was five months pregnant with you I bought you a book from the school book fair. The title was Someday. I loved the illustration on the cover - a mother holding a little baby up in the air. The first page is what sold me on it. "One day I counted your fingers and kissed each one" it read. "Someday your eyes will be filled with a joy so deep that they shine."

Mommy loved this book with its simple words because it highlighted all the tender moments a mother would share with her daughter as she grows. At that time, Mommy could only imagine how wonderful life would be once you were born.

"Sometimes when you sleep, I watch you dream and I dream too" it says.

When you were about a week old I held you in my arms and read that book to you. It made Mommy so sad to think that one day you would grow up - that one day you would no longer be my little baby.

"Someday I will stand on this porch and watch your arms waving to me until I no longer see you."

As you grew into a toddler I felt more and more excited about the kind of little girl you were becoming. You were fun and funny. You were silly and sweet at all the right times. I would think about the future with so much hope. Daddy and I couldn't wait to build a lifetime of good memories with you.

Now that you are no longer here with us that book is even more difficult to read. Mommy is reminded of all the things we will no longer get to do in this life.

"Someday I will watch you brushing your child's hair."

Perhaps it is the end that makes me saddest of all.

"Someday," it reads, "A long time from now, your own hair will glow silver in the sun. And when that day comes, love, you will remember me."

I am reminded of how backwards all this is. I think about how unnatural it is for you to be gone before Mommy and Daddy.

It has been a year now. I look at your pictures. I look at your room. I look at the step by the sliding glass door and remember you. If I blur my eyes just right I can imagine you there sitting, as if that step was put there just for you.

Every day we miss you. Every day we think of you. Every day we smile remembering how you changed our lives and brought us unbelievable joy. Every day we find a way to rejoice in the fact we were blessed with you even if only for sixteen months. Every day we watch as your friends grow a little bigger without you. Every day we feel thankful that we will never have to worry about where you are or who you are with. Every day we wonder how your little sister would have loved playing with you and you with her.

Every day we have flashbacks of that terrible day and the days that followed. Every day we feel changed - broken, vulnerable, not normal. Every day the good and once vivid memories with you fade a little more. Every day the laughter, squeals and sound of your tiny voice become more difficult to hear. Every day we feel a little more separated from you. Every day it seems we have to let go of you a little more.

But someday we will be with you again.

Someday we will see your bright blue eyes again. Someday we will feel the warmth of your hugs again. Someday we will hear you say happy, happy, happy in that little girl voice. Someday we will see just how perfect a big sister you would have been. Someday we will no longer have to miss you. Someday we will be with you in Heaven.

Someday, a very long time from now, this life on earth will come to an end. And when that day comes, sweet baby girl, Mommy and Daddy will no longer have to remember you.


Saturday, June 11, 2011

Eleven Months

Hi Sweet Girl,

Mommy and Daddy just got home from visiting your spot at the cemetery. Daddy has made it so pretty this spring. About a month ago he planted a whole bunch of pink and white flowers all around your stone. They have grown so bright and full. He goes there almost everyday to water them. I wish you could see how pretty they look. Mommy thinks it's Daddy's way of still being able to take care of you.

A few weeks ago Mommy and Daddy went to the dance recital. Last year you wore your navy dress and together we played in the hallways and outside on the little preschool playground between numbers. You really liked seeing the "big kids" on stage and even danced between the seats during some of the songs. What good memories.

This year's recital was special in a very different way. Just before intermission, a group of very talented girls performed a lyrical dance to the Christian song "Homesick". Not only is that one of Mommy's favorite Christian songs, it also describes with just the right words how Mommy and Daddy feel about not having you here with us.

Just as the dance number began two groups of little girls began blowing bubbles on both sides of the stage. Throughout the dance you could see the heart felt expressions on the girls' faces. Some were tearful, others were solemn. At the end, the dancers raised a stitched quilt with large letters that read "We Dance for Kaden". Each girl had written a special message and signed their name on the individual squares.

The dance was a beautiful representation of love and loss. Who could have thought a dance could bring such a rush of emotions to Mommy - sadness for not having you with us - love for the girls who worked so hard to make it special - happiness that your memory could be shared and not forgotten. I wish I could describe to you how special it was.

Something else that was really special this past month was our Memorial Day gathering. Last year at Memorial Day Mommy loved watching you smile as you rode down the big hill in your red wagon with Daddy. Mommy laughs when I look at the pictures of you in your "too small outfit". We all treasure the picture of you and your buddies sitting on the steps. What a fun day it was.

This year on Memorial Day we invited just about every person in our family and most of our closest friends to share your special garden and celebrate your sister's arrival. Nearly 65 people came to be part of the day. Daddy told everyone the story about how your pond came to be and Uncle Jamie said a nice prayer that helped remind us that where you are is where we all want to be one day. It turned out to be a pretty special day.

It's been eleven months. Each month we miss you the same. Each month we dig deeper to hold on to you and the memories we have. Most times we laugh and smile as we share and remember. It seems like every good conversation and memory is followed with a sigh of sadness. I guess it's because we still cannot understand how you could really be gone.

Having Layne here has helped Mommy and Daddy smile more. I think it's because we get to tell her all about her big sister. When I give Layne a bath I tell her how you loved bubbles and even say the same silly things. All the songs I used to sing to you I now sing to Layne. In the very beginning Mommy felt sad about that. At first Mommy and Daddy both felt bad for enjoying Layne so much. Daddy described it best when he said he felt like he was cheating on you. We decided that when we love on Layne we are also loving on you in one of the only ways we can. We hope you feel it.

We love you baby girl and always will.

Wednesday, May 11, 2011

Big Sister!

Dear Kaden,

Today is a special day in more than one way...not only is it your day, but today we brought home your newborn sister. Layne made her entrance into this world three days ago and earlier than predicted. Layne was born on May 8th - Mother's Day. In many ways I think you and God had something to do with that. Oh, how special a day it turned out to be for Mommy.

Mother's day was the holiday I knew would be toughest for Mommy to celebrate without you. To be a mommy and feel like a mommy, means to have a baby to hold on special days like that. Even though I couldn't hold you, I knew you were watching me hold Layne. That was the best gift I could have received this Mother's Day!

With Layne here now days seem sweeter. In some ways Mommy and Daddy feel like life has been put into rewind and we are just starting over. Like many big and little sisters, you and Layne are so much alike. From your appearance to your personality, it will be neat to see how each of you are unique in your own ways.

Mommy was so excited we would be released to go home from the hospital today. I was excited most of all because it was your day. Mommy and Daddy decided the best way to celebrate your day and your new sister was to have a picnic at your spot. So, we packed up some snacks, Mammy's big purple quilt, a watering can for your flowers, and a big pink fluffy bow and headed to your spot. We spent more than an hour reminiscing, wondering, hoping, laughing, smiling, and sharing with Layne about her big sis.

We sure hope you find joy watching Mommy and Daddy love this new baby girl like we loved on you. We hope you know you are always on our minds and in our hearts. We sure love you baby girl!

Monday, April 11, 2011

Memories are all we have of you now, Sweet Baby Girl. Memories of all the good times and sadly memories of your last times. It's amazing how the details of the very last time seeing and holding you in our arms are so much more vivid.

This week at church a new series was started. Its title - 21 hours. Its focus - the last 21 hours of Jesus' life. Throughout the entire sermon all Mommy could think about was your last 21 hours. I know your last day was a good one - the best you could have had. From the moment you woke up early with a fever - to the sweet time we shared in Mommy and Daddy's bed trying to help you sleep comfortably - to the "fast bath" Mommy gave you before we left to head to Louisville - to the "uh-oh's" I heard on the other end of the phone as I called to check on you throughout the day - to the moment we got the call from the EMS worker saying you were unresponsive - to the last time we held you in our arms inside the ambulance late that night.

It's hard to understand how God lets things like this happen - especially when he knows the pain.

Springtime and Easter are going to be a tough time for Mommy and Daddy - maybe even more so than Christmas. For most people it is a time to be with family. It's a time to enjoy the flowers and the warmth of the weather to come. It's a time for family pictures and dresses and playing outside. It's a time for cookouts and afternoon walks. It's a time for Easter egg hunts and kite festivals.

All the things Mommy and Daddy enjoyed before you and with you, we now have to learn how to do without you. We do our best to make these times bearable, but truthfully they are often the most difficult.

Some people imagine that everything will get better when your baby sister is born. Sometimes I wonder if it will change things at all. Many are hopeful that all the sadness will be replaced. Mommy feels as though some people have a hard time fully understanding the difficult nature of this time. When people ask about pregnancy most Mommy's feel proud and enjoy the attention. When people ask me I get so nervous and scared that they don't know about you and what happened. People will often ask "Is this your first?" I used to fumble over my words trying to answer in a way that wouldn't make the other person feel bad for asking. Now I find it's one of the few ways I can tell people about you and about SUDC.

As we try to prepare for your little sister to come, it feels a bit more like we are losing more of you. Simple things like boxing up your clothes and washing your last bed sheet have been very emotional. Mommy and Daddy have made the best of it - if that is possible. Things like moving your toys and putting away some of your pictures makes Mommy feel guilty. We know that life goes on and we have to move forward. Mommy and Daddy also know that nothing will ever truly fix the emptiness we feel.

We will always wonder what life would have been like with you. We will wonder what kind of big sister you would have been to Layne. We will wonder what kinds of Disney shows you would have liked or how many words you would have been able to say now. We will wonder how you would have grown like your friends and what kinds of mischief you would be getting in to. We will wonder how long your hair would have been or what foods you would have liked. We will always wonder what kind of joy you would have brought to our lives.

We hope we can keep your memory alive by sharing pictures and videos of you for others to see. Memories are all we have to remember you by.

Love you, Sweet Girl.

Friday, March 11, 2011

Memories of you...

Hi Sweet Baby Girl,

Tonight Daddy and I had dinner together at Galvin's. Date nights are still so bittersweet. Tonight we laughed and smiled as we shared memories from last year at this time. There were only a few times that tears welled up in Mommy's eyes.

It's getting a little easier to hold back emotions when we're out in public. Seeing little girls about your age is sometimes the hardest for Mommy. It's the little things they do that make me think and wonder about you. The pat of their little hand on the back of Mommy's arm. The bounce of their pigtails as they toddle into Daddy's outstretched arms. The smiles they bring to the faces of strangers nearby. Even the sweet cries. Mommy would take it in a heartbeat.

We remembered bringing you to the same restaurant this time last year and sitting at one of the high-top tables. You were in your high chair, which was so much lower than our table, and would look up at us with those big blue eyes. You didn't seem to mind. You were just happy to be out with all the people.

After dinner tonight Daddy and I came home and watched LOTS of your videos. There are so many good ones. We laughed more than anything at how much personality you always seemed to have. Even when you were fussing, you could make us smile. Before we realized, two hours had passed. What would we give to have more than memories of you...

In some ways the pictures that hang have become a fairytale of what once was. You're with us every minute of the day - on our minds, in our hearts. We want to keep you alive in such a desperate way. We often wonder if we will ever be as happy as we once were when you were here.

The only way we know how to keep your memory with us is to celebrate the times we spent together. This video was taken on your first birthday. Mommy was lucky to be home from school for a snow day. We had a blast playing together that day. I love the sounds of your sweet baby voice. I'd give just about anything to feel the squish of your little belly or the softness of your little hand in mine.

We hope to share your joyful, happy nature with everyone who has been touched by you - the bright light you were in our lives.

Mommy and Daddy love and miss you so much, Sweet Girl.

Friday, February 11, 2011

It's Your Day!

Happy Birthday Sweet Baby Girl,

Today is your day. Mommy and Daddy wish we could celebrate your day with you. We sure hope Jesus and all the other angel babies in Heaven found some way to make your day special.

Every year we promise to make your day special in its own way. This year, with the help of Aunt Keshia, we put together "Kindness for Kaden Day". People everywhere were encouraged to perform a random act of kindness for someone in your memory on your special day. The response was incredible. Over 3,000 people participated in the event. Mommy and Daddy are so touched.

Today at Mommy's kindergarten class we celebrated "Kindness Day" by creating cards for special people in our school. Only a few of Mommy's students knew it was actually your day. There was one little girl who quietly whispered in Mommy's ear, "I know today is Kaden's day". That simple sentence warmed my heart in a big way. Later that day she whispered again about the Happy Birthday prayer she said to you this morning before school. So sweet.

Earlier this week Mommy was invited to the opening night of the new exhibit at the art gallery in Richmond. "Kaden's Tree of Life" was being unveiled. With the help of the art teacher Mrs. Discepoli, Mommy's former students created a beautiful piece of artwork in memory of you. They plan to hang it near the garden inside the school with a small plaque. Mommy was overwhelmed with hugs from former students, their parents, and teachers from Model Lab School.

Tonight we plan to share your day with our closest friends. We hope we can make it a day of celebration. We hope to laugh as we share funny memories of you. We hope to be reminded of the pure blessing you were to all of us.

We are always reminded that one day we will hold you again in Heaven. We can only imagine what that celebration will be like.

We love you, Sweet KadenLayne!

Tuesday, January 11, 2011

Snow Days

Sweet Girl,

Today was another snow day. Last year I remember how exciting it was to stay home from school with you. I remember getting to spend several days leading up to your birthday at home with you. I would make Daddy take us out to lunch each day to celebrate your day just in case I had to work on the real thing. Today would have been the best if you could be here with us.

Christmas and New Year was so different this year for Mommy and Daddy. We did everything we could to make it different than last year just so we wouldn't have to be sad about all that we were missing out on. We set up a shelf of your sweet pictures and pretty things: your red tutu and little pearl necklace you wore in your first Christmas pictures; your white, fluffy boa you would wrap around your shoulders; and your little red headband Mommy splurged on at that store. It looks so sweet next to your smiley-faced pictures. We only wish we could have the real you.

One of the most bittersweet parts of this holiday season came on Christmas Eve. Mommy and Daddy had gone out of town for a few days and on our way back home we stopped by your spot at the cemetery. Before that day your spot was decorated with a Christmas tree in the place where your marker would be. We had ordered it several months before and knew it should arrive before Christmas. We didn't expect it to be on Christmas Eve. As we pulled up to Babyland at the cemetery tears filled my eyes. I could see that it had come. All Mommy could think was "How fair is that? My baby gets a headstone for her Christmas gift this year." As pretty as it looked and as nice as it was, it just didn't seem right.

Most people believe the holidays are the toughest days for people who have lost a loved one. But for us, everyday without you is tough. The holidays were just another day to get through. Since we were only blessed to share each holiday with you once, those days don't matter as much. It's the everyday things that we miss so much.

It's been six months since we last held you. Six months since we last got to watch you enjoy the everyday pleasures of this life. Six months since we heard your giggles and cries. Six months since we last felt the cuddle of your hugs or the wetness of your kiss.

Six months seems like just yesterday but in some ways feels like forever.

We miss you Baby Girl...