Because my heart tells me to

Hi Baby.
I originally thought that I would write you a letter on the 15th of each month. Knowing that for the remainder of my time on earth that day will give me pause. It will bring thoughts of you and our life together. I will never escape the 15th again. And I'm not sure I want to.
Thinking of you brings me comfort. It offers me peace and it keeps you alive in our home. I know I've been crying more than you wanted. I can't help it. I promised you I would stay true to my feelings and live in the moment and that's exactly what I'm doing. I don't cry every night when Kate and I talk to you anymore so I guess that's an improvement.
I love how Kate shares so much with you during our "talks" every night. She's so quick to tell me if there is some piece of our day that was missed. In her little mind, you want to know that she made a bed for Minnie Mouse tonight. Now that I write that, I'm sure you would want to know. Hell, if you were here Minnie Mouse would have had a bed on your bedroom floor like so many other "friends" had.
I loved the other day when she said she didn't like cloudy days because they "covered up Daddy's smile". There is just so much of you in her little face.
I don't know if you heard me tonight but I found myself wondering if your pillows were comfortable in heaven. Doesn't that sound crazy? I climbed into bed, started getting situated, like I do, and when I looked next to me at the pillow that I took from your bed downstairs, I reached out to run my hand along it as I have so many other times and I could feel that perfect dent where your head rested.
You and your pillow problems. You were such a cranky pillow bitch. Every pillow had it's perfect place, perfect amount of fluff, and heaven forbid it didn't sit right. Remember your first leg aneurysm? Well, of course you remember it. Your leg was HUGE. What did they say it was some 60centimeters around your calf. That leg caused you so much pain. I could walk into the room and tell right away that the pillows weren't right. The nurses would come in and "fix" it and no sooner would they leave the room, you were staring at me with your big green eyes saying "Baby, my pillows. Will you fix it?".
Do you know how much I miss fixing your stupid pillows? I worry and wonder if there are pillows in heaven and if they are "right". Pretty stupid huh? I know everyone says that in heaven you don't have any of your "earthly" ailments but I can't help but think about your pillow needs and if there is someone there that can make the pillow right for you. What if you get a headache? Does someone know that you probably just need to rotate your pillow, bringing the cool side to the nape of your neck? If that's being done then what will I do when I get there? I want to fix your pillows. I want to hear you make that perfect sigh of contentment when I get the pillows perfect on the first try. I really want you to tell me "you're good baby."
Who knew that pillows would end up meaning so much? I don't sleep on your pillow. I haven't rested my head on your pillow at all since it made it's way back to my bed. I'm afraid I'll change the dent. I don't want to lose that perfect shape that cradled the back of your head so perfectly.
Kate has rested her head on your pillow. She doesn't know it's yours but she always tells me it's the comfiest on the bed.

Aside from my strange pillow obsession, we're doing pretty well. I feel like I'm ready to start watching some of our old home movies. There are moments where I can't get my brain to conjure up the sound of your voice. This worries me. I don't want there to ever be a time where Kate and I both can't "hear" you "talk" to us. Maybe that's what Baby Girl and I will do tomorrow.
Can you believe how big she's gotten already? She's such a little person now. I love what an independent, strong, compassionate little girl she's become but there is huge part of her growing that is bittersweet for me. Everyday older is another day she'll not have you here. It brings us closer to the moment when she will have lived longer without then she did with you. I dread that moment.

I'm sorry that I've been so filled with regret these past week. I wish I could get rid of this feeling that I needed to work harder, beg more, barter more, to have you here longer. I regret telling you it was ok to go be with your parents and sister. I mean, I know you wanted to be with them. I know you missed them so much. And I'm certainly glad they could be there waiting for you but, you always gave me everything I wanted. Maybe you could have stayed longer had I just begged more.
I know it's silly to think these things. I know we both believe that when it's your time, it's your time, but...

Thanks for watching over us at Disney. Even though we were never there together, I felt you everywhere. I said over and OVER again "Scott would love this." I'm sure I was annoying.

I think I've exhausted myself sufficiently. Missing you so much.

Always,
B