Maybe it’s this time of year. It was right about now, two years ago, when we first started on the five-month path of trying to cure you.

But right now, with the leaves changing, and the pumpkins on the front porches, I just want so badly to remember the good times.

Yes, we spent five months searching for an organ donor, listening to the wise words of multiple specialists, going to treatments, rushing to the ER, and clinging to one another.

But in those five months, buddy, you made some extreme strides. Not just fighting and putting up with the disease itself. But you became a little man in those five months.

Before then, and always, you were my baby. But in those five months you found words and learned to communicate in a way I never really understood until now. In those five months we spent nearly every moment together and in that time I watched as you took the signs we’d learned and used together like “drink” or “please” and started actually saying them outloud. And the way you pronounced them! It couldn’t have been cuter, looking at Mommy and saying, “gink, pease.”

You knew how to tell me what you needed, what you wanted, and how I could help you when you were scared or hurting.

And now, my sweet boy, though I have you in Heaven instead of my arms, you are still finding unique and beautiful ways to communicate with your mommy. That’s just how amazing you are. Even the distance of Heaven and Earth can’t create a bridge too far for us to cross.

It might be this time of year. It’s hard. Really, really hard. It was not in my plan to lose you. But I’m so glad that you’ve found your own special ways of telling me you’re right here, all the time.

I’m right here too, baby. Whatever you need, whenever you need me, Mommy is always here. My heart, my mind, and my ears are always open to you. Always.