I’m not sure why I’m posting this here. I sat down to write a few notes to Kai…for myself…and here I am copying it here. Feel free to skip this and go straight to a new video that we’ll post.
I love you so much. I miss you so much. I am crushed that you are not here to enjoy life here as well as to enrich the lives of everybody that loves you. You are in such a better place, but it still hurts so much. It’s surreal that you were here and then so quickly you left us. I so much regret that I wasn’t able to have an “adult” conversation with you about how much I love you. I hope that you know that was the case. I so much regret that I wasn’t able to shield you from the pain of this disease. I so much regret that if we had been as aggressive as your disease that we could potentially could have caught your disease sooner.
I think about you all the time. Sometimes I can only think about the end. That is incredibly painful, but that should not define you. That was a short portion of your life. Up until that point you were a tremendous energy. I love that you were reserved and often liked to do things on your own, yet you always demonstrated pure sweetness and innocence the way you cared that everybody else was taken care of. I loved your willingness to share (usually) your toys with your friends.
- I loved your insistence that you share a bite of nearly every snack with mom or myself, regardless of whether it had been on the floor or already in your mouth.
- I cherish the love that you showed for your sister, always wanting to include her and do whatever you could to help her stop crying.
- I love that you couldn’t watch more than 2 minutes of television without losing interest, yet you could endlessly watch YouTube videos about construction vehicles, dump trucks, and garbage trucks.
- I love that some of those videos were in Russian and that once or twice you referred to a construction vehicle by its Russian name (we assume).
- I love (in hindsight) that no matter how exhausted I was in the morning, I could never convince you to lay in bed with us and rest. Never.
- I love that you could be playing outside, near your friends, and flip a switch deciding that you were done and it’s time to go inside and eat. I can see that Maya will inhale her food as she grows up, just like you.
- I love that you still insisted on milk every single morning out of a baby bottle, for reasons that will forever be unknown.
- I loved coming home from work and hearing you yell “Daddy!” from the other room. I love seeing Maya make the same face today every time that mom enters the room.
- I love that I could not take out the ladder around the house without you insisting on climbing up with me.
- I loved watching you on the video monitor as you sat there in the morning waiting for your alarm clock to light up green, meaning it was okay to get out of bed. We still see your alarm clock light up green.
- I love that you grabbed canned drinks out of the kitchen and handed them out to us and to visitors, regardless of whether or not we wanted them.
- I love the videos of you and mom that she would send occasionally. I love watching them today.
These are all small things. But these are the everyday things that are no longer there. I miss all of these things and I miss you. Life is far too quiet now, but I am grateful that we still see glimpses of you in everyday life. I know that your friends are still talking to you and I know that you are still looking after them.