Two years with you. Two years without you.

Your second birthday.

It was going to be a mild winter this year. Except today, the temperature plummeted. It reminds me of the record breaking winter you were born.

At some point every day, I find myself staring at an empty space - by the couch, near my desk, by the bed. Up the stairs.  I imagine two little boys playing together. I see two little boys running up to me, showing me their toy trucks. I can practically feel you running into my arms and hear the knocking of the toys you are still holding while I scoop you up and kiss your little heads.

And then, just like that, I snap back into reality and the image is gone.

But you are here, somehow. I hear you both laughing. I hear you both whining to be picked up. I hear you screaming in delight over something funny that has happened. I feel your light, your hope, your love.

Just the other day, your grandmother told me that she knows you angels are still working, and that you still send her signs.

I don't find dimes much anymore, but I do when I need them the most. It is like you know when I need you. But I see the signs all the time. I see you in your sister. I see you and feel you whenever there is happiness. I know that you did that. You evoked that. Only you boys can bring healing to this heart, and you bring that daily.

I feel guilty, sometimes, that my days aren't consumed with you anymore. I don't blog as much. I haven't reached out to the baby loss communities in months. I spent mere minutes planning your second birthday outing and dinner compared to the months of planning I spent on your first birthday. But I carry you everywhere with me, every minute of the day, and you have shaped me for the better.

Today we are going to the bookstore for new books to read to you and going to dinner with our families to celebrate you. We donated to an animal shelter (the one that your aunt sadly had to leave her dog at) in honor of you. Your aunts are making preemie hats for the hospital, and one of your aunts is even teaching an enrichment course to her students so that they can make the hats, too. Your aunts and grandma got a great idea to put your names on pens with the saying "tiny moments, lasting memories" and we will be leaving them everywhere. Hopefully your names will spread around the country.

You still spread joy and love. We miss you not just today, but every day.

Love you to the moon and back,
Mom

*edit: we got a dime tonight. Bought a last minute birthday cake. Total was $21.91. Cashier gave us a dime back.