THREE YEARS

It is all still so very hard to process. It is still so very hard to understand. You are gone. It has been three years since you left. Three long years. So much can happen in three years – so much can change – but the pain of your death never leaves. I hide it better now, but it’s still there.

A lot can change in three years, but a lot can stay the same.

I remember your first three years. Your soft silky hair. Your chubby cheeks. Your love of Toy Story and everything Buzz Lightyear. You were happy. You were healthy. You were my Tyler.

I remember your last three years. Your now course thick hair. Your long skinny legs. Your love of the Steelers, Cougars, and everything Jimmer Fredette. You were happy. You were healthy - then you were sick. You were my Superman.

The passage of time is a double-edged sword for me. Each day that passes is one day further from when I last saw you. One day further from when I last touched you. One day further from when I smelled you. One day further from when I last kissed you.

But with each passing day I am one day closer to seeing you again. One day closer to smelling you again. One day closer to hugging you again. One day closer to kissing you again.

One day closer.

I miss you little man. I miss you.

Cherish every moment.

Tyler's Dad Whatever It Takes

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