Seven years from now it will be 2028, Isabelle will be 18 and off to college. Lincoln will be 16 and driving. Thatchy will be 12 and passing the Sacrament at church. Baby girl will be in school. I can’t really imagine that picture of our family down the road, but time will pass and we will be there before we know it.
Seven years ago we said hello and until we meet again to our sweet baby Max. I remember feeling so deep in the pits of grief that I couldn’t imagine two, three, even seven years down the road. And here we are. Seven years. Max would be in 2nd grade.
From my IG: “Dear Max on your seventh birthday, Today we took Linc to his baseball game. I watched all the other boys running around, throwing balls and warming up. Some kids short, some tall…some with dark hair, a few red heads. And I thought about what you would be like at seven years old. Baseball? Into hot wheels? Riding bikes? What would your little personality be like?
I do know you were perfect. Perfect round fuzzy head. Perfect chubby little arms and legs. Perfect spirit. Seven years has felt like an eternity but we celebrate another year closer to being together. I looked through your photos and watched the few short clips we have of you crying your eyes out as they cleaned you off. You look soft and chubby and fresh. My heart and my arms ache for you… grief is so painful. But you are so worth it! All my love, Mom.”