Monthly Archives: July 2018

What six years without you look like

Well, Hudson… another year has passed.

Another year of missing you. Another year of having a thousand things to be thankful for, and one gaping hole where you belong.

A lot has changed since you would have been 5…

Your little brother Anson is a dashing, charming, big-hearted ball of boy, who is curious about you, who loves his little sister and his Mommy and Daddy and really just about anybody he’s ever met. Today, I told him I would get him from “school” early so that he and baby sister could pick out balloons to bring to your memorial stone.

“Because, it’s Hudson’s birthday.”
“Again!?” (We had cake for you with our family this weekend)


I just caught a glimpse of a little white butterfly who fluttered up against the window to say hello.

Your baby sister, Maddox, is not so much a baby anymore. She’ll be two in October, with a head full of red hair just like yours, a mouth full of new words that she surprises us with from time to time, and a heart full of spunk that I think she also got from big sister.

Your Mommy and Daddy are pretty excited that you’ll have one more baby brother or sister this November!

Your family is really, really, incredibly and genuinely happy.

But we miss you.

I got an email from a photo storage service today: “Your memories from this week six years ago!” Guess whose face I got to see?



Your beautifully formed little face, sweet girlie. A face that never smiled at me, eyes that never opened, but a heart that changed my life. 

Last night, your Daddy and I went on a date. We got to talking about you, because, we love you and miss you daily, but think about you an extra lot this week in particular. Even though we miss you, and this world isn’t right without you in it, the resounding theme in our conversation wasn’t of sadness and disappointment, but of gladness, of hope, of happiness. How lucky we are that we had three days to spend with you, even though we would give anything for even a few hours more.

Even though life isn’t perfect, we are still abundantly happy.

Even though we lost everything the day that you died, we somehow have ended up with more than we imagined we could ever have.

Six years go by fast. I remember the agony as we waited for weeks to pass, months to pass, how far I wanted to get from losing you even as I mourned how far I was from having you. And there is comfort in time. The years have gone by, and filled with moments and memories and whole new human beings that we love with a fierceness that probably gets an extra touch of intensity because of you.

That’s right, Hudson. Because of you, Anson and Maddox get loved on extra hard. Because of you, I look at people as miracles who deserve to be respected and honored and heard, who deserve to be seen, who deserve to matter. Because of your life, I’m living mine with more intention and focus. Because of you, I became a Mommy and I found a new place in my heart I couldn’t have imagined.

That new place in my heart made it hurt much more to be broken.

It also helps me to love even harder, and to feel love more deeply.

I miss you so much, Hudson. I yearn for the life we would have had these last 6 years, for the milestones we never got with you, for a world with you in it.

I’m also thankful for the life we have. For the world as it is, broken though it be, and for the amazing people in it because of you.

I guess what you need to know is, we miss you, but we’re happy, cherishing the love you brought to our lives and looking forward to our family being as complete as it ever will be come November. We don’t know what life would have been like with you in it for longer than those three days, but we know what you’ve helped to make it in six years.