Skip to main content

Hi Aaron.

I know, I know. I'm about 4 years and 11 months early for my 5-year letter to you. But something happened last night that I wanted to make sure you knew about. Your brother is visiting your Gaga and Pip this week, getting to spend some quality time with his grandparents. He and Gaga walked over to the memorial garden at Gaga's church and Sammy starting reading the names on the engraved obelisk. He got to your name, knowing full well that your name was on there, and he told your Gaga that he misses you so much, and he was sad that he never got to meet you.

He also told Gaga that he didn't think she could understand that feeling he had. She told him that she missed you every day too.

I idly asked your mom if maybe Sammy still remembered the time he had his tubes in and he told your mom that after everything went black (anesthesia put him under) in the bright room with all the doctors (the operating room) he got to play with an older boy. In Sammy's words the boy looked kind of like him, was probably about 12 years old, and had come to keep him busy and play trucks with him. It was you, your mom and I knew it was you, and I think Sammy did, too.  It's one of my favorite "memories" of you, and whether it's real or not, the thought that you're still here, and still looking after your brother, your mother, and I is a very comforting one. Your mom confirmed that Sammy doesn't remember that anymore (he was only 3, and doesn't remember the procedure at all either).

I just wanted you to know that you're still loved Aaron. You'll never been forgotten, and even your brother who never knew you misses you.

Love,

Dad


Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Aaron didn't make it.

About 3 hours ago, Aaron passed away. After speaking with his doctors earlier in the last few weeks, we decided that if at any point they were no longer supporting Aaron's life, but instead preventing him from dying, that we didn't want him to suffer any longer. We reached that point this morning. Aaron had been struggling for life from Day One, and after surgery, and several weeks of fighting, Aaron ran out of strength. He fought hard, but the strain of surgery just proved to be too much for him. I'm sure I'll feel up to posting more information later. I just don't seem to have any energy left in me for relating this at the moment. But I did feel it was important to share this information with all of you who have been keeping tabs on us. Thank you for your concern, your prayers, and your well-wishes during this difficult time. We love you. P.S.: I'd like to leave you with the following lyrics that popped into my head while we held Aaron as he passed away. They

Eighteen.

 18, Aaron. Holy shit, kid (calm down, you're 18 in about 5 hours, I can curse in front of you now, plus, I've had a couple drinks, my language is a bit loose). You're an adult. You're old enough to drive, you'd be looking at college or technical school, or backpacking across Europe in a gap year, or whatever weird thing kids are doing when they turn 18 these days. You'd be a person. A complete, fully realized, adult person. That's weird, kid, gotta admit. So, 18 is hitting your mom and I kinda hard. The idea of you at 18 is really blowing our minds. We were just barely not kids ourselves when you were born, and now we're talking about you as an adult. It's amazing to think about. As you well know, we've done a ton of work with, and fundraising for, the March of Dimes; donated money and goods to community health centers; donated craft goods to a local moms and babies' hospital for siblings of newborns; collected toys, pajamas, and games for l

Thank you all from the bottom of our hearts

We feel so loved and supported right now and would like to thank each and every one of you. Whether we know you or not we know we are in your thoughts. We told Aaron each and every day how loved he was and I know that he knew that. I know that all of you were praying for a different outcome in all of this, but obviously God had a different plan. There are moments when I am at peace with this and moments when I am not. As hard and upsetting as it was - I am not sure I will ever experience a more peaceful moment as I did when I sat there holding Aaron after they had all the tubes and wires off and before he actually passed. Yes, I did hold him the whole time - at first I didn't think I could but God gave me the strength and I am so happy that I did. Josh pointed out last night that the time they placed him in my arms was at 12:44 pm. Ironically, Aaron was born at 12:44 am - I don't think that was a coincidence. My brother-in-law pointed out to me that Aaron was in our lives for 3