365..

Somedays I pick up my phone to text a picture of the kids and still add your name to the recipient list without even giving it a second thought. A few times I've forgotten and hit send. It feels like a little stab in the heart when that message comes back "undeliverable". I know that on the Verizon commercials when that annoying man says can you hear me now, that applies to heaven too.

I just can't bring myself to remove your name from my contacts list because to me you're still here, you'll always be here.

When Drew locked us out of the house a few weeks ago, I knew that no one else would think it was as funny as you would. Each time one of them does something really ornery, I can hear you say "Give 'em hell boys". They are and I know you would be laughing louder than anyone else.

Will keeps a picture book of you in his room and looks at it before bed a lot of nights. When he says your name, he says it like he just saw you that afternoon.

I wish you could see the almost two year old with the curly hair just like yours. I wish he had the same memories of you that the other three have.

I know that the boys favorite cars are the ones with the chipped paint that look like they came from the matchbox junk yard. I know that when I turn them over, it is your handwriting I will see engraved in the bottom of those cars forever.

I know that when Bella stands with her hands on her hips and that stubborn look on her face when I ask her to take her picture, you would see the same little girl that used to tell you she was "too busy". And that would make you tease her more.

And Amelia. She and Granny are joined at the hip when they are together. Amelia sobs extra loud when her granny leaves. I know that you would love that, too.

I miss you. Every. single. day. I miss you.