Dear Scott,

It's been a while since I've written. We talk to you all the time so it seems like I don't have much to say most days. Tonight though, on the eve of our girls 5th birthday, I've found myself with plenty to say. You knew her for almost all of her first three years. But you've missed out on her entire fourth year. You missed out on so much. When I think about how she was when you passed compared to the little girl she is now, I'm overwhelmed. She started swimming. Our girl isn't going to be an Olympic swimmer but she has finally gotten past her fear and insecurities and is making some progress. She puts her entire face in the water but won't quite submerge her entire head. Like somehow it's too much having her face and her ears in the water at the same time. Our kid has quirks thats for sure. It took her such a long time to warm up to her swim instructor. She just couldn't trust her. But now... now things are getting better. It's like she became a new kid when she started skating. Yep, our girl is a skater too now. She hit the ice and never looked back. You wouldn't believe how confident and driven she is out on the ice. It's like skating has given her a huge boost of confidence that's carried over into the rest of her life. Kate has already decided she doesn't want to play hockey and only wants to "dance on the ice like a ballerina". Such a little princess. I think that's because you always treated her like your princess. Boys have also come on her radar. You would be happy to know that she's only interested in being friends with boys. When other kids at school tease her about her "boyfriends" she just shakes it off. I know, I know, I'll keep doing what I can to keep her mind off the boys and focused on more positive things. I'm hoping she'll be too busy with school in the fall to really pay much attention. You wouldn't believe it but she can read. Really read. Nothing complex or too difficult but just a few weeks ago it was like, WHAM she's reading. I can't tell you how much joy it brings me to sit with her for the last 20 minutes before bed and listen to her read the stories to me. I haven't given up my bedtime story book just yet. There is something about snuggling with her and reading a story to her that keeps her little for me. I know if you were here her reading would be better. You had the same intense, calm, intelligence that our daughter does. I think back to all the play-doh time you guys spent together. You taught her to stay quiet, calm and focused. Thank you for that. I struggle every day to be a little more of that for her, it's just not my strong suit. We're working on getting rid of her training wheels on her bike. You never got a chance to see her ride with her training wheels and yet they are already being out grown. We miss you every day. But Baby, don't worry. We're doing just fine. We've got our rhythm and we manage. More laughter than tears. We're doing just fine. Tomorrow I'll give Kate the first of many cards from you. I'll try not to cry when she realizes it's from you. I'll chase away the memories of sitting in your room, in your wheelchair, next to your bed, watching you write those cards. Thank you for writing those. I know it was hard but tomorrow, it will have been worth it. Forget the toys, the cake, the hoopla, the card with your message to her, written by you, will be the best part of the day. We love you. Always, B.