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Once in a blue moon, I’ll write a journal entry. I started a journal a long time ago, and stopped when I met Melissa. When Ian was born I started writing something like that… they’re “someday” letters to him. I don’t even know if I’ll ever give them to him, honestly. August 13th inspired this entry — please forgive my straight-forward approach to writing in this format.

(Written on) August 15th – As you and your sister played in the hot August sun near the cottage, your mom and I were on a boat, carrying about 8 lbs of ashes with other family members. Those ashes were Uncle Chris at one point. My brother. I loved that guy more than you’ll ever know, and miss him almost as much. (Edited.)

It was nothing short of miraculous how well everything went that day, despite the sadness… the 13th of August, 2012. In your innocence, which still shines fairly bright in your five year old eyes, you don’t yet understand that seeing these people together at this place may not hold much significance to you, but to those of us who know a little better, it is pretty special. Did you notice Great Grandma Betty looked a bit sad? Her husband, who died when I was about your current age, was Great Grampa Eddie, that’s Grampa Dave’s father; Great Grampa Eddie died in the same waters in which Uncle Chris was laid to rest. Some of her tears were for Uncle Chris, but not all. I bet the same is true for Grampa Dave. In this family, we share a lot of laughter, and I think all of us tend to try to approach life with a sense of humor, but there has been a lot of loss too. I thought you should know.

I’ll tell you what it is like to lose a sibling, my kiddo. It is like losing half of your inner monologue. That little voice that you maybe find yourself explaining things to. Your sibling is the one person with which you can share certain secrets about your childhood, the one that remembers the goofy inside jokes that the family trades in giggles and eye rolls. That person leans looking for your support, and is in turn the strongest arm should you need it. Which is a great segue way back to the point — what is it like losing a sibling? It is like losing an arm. A thing you’ve grown used to looking at your entire life, grown to rely on — now gone. A one armed man can get by, but I don’t think it’s a mystery what he’d ask for if he had one wish.

Protect that sister of yours, Ian. Nina is more precious than you’ll be capable of realizing for years upon years. She is not the competition, she is home.

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