Dear Nathan,

I still remember our conversation when you told me that I was going to be an aunt. You told me before you told our mom, which was a great honor to this big sister, but I had to promise to keep quiet about it, so as to not hurt her feelings for not hearing the news first.

I am so thankful that I was asked to be present at the delivery. What an amazing experience, after having two children of my own by then, to witness the miracle of childbirth from the other side. Just thinking about the look on your face when you met your son makes me weepy. You looked so … awestruck. Gosh, I miss you so much!

And so does he. We talk about you often, you know. He still remembers stories about things you did together. Just yesterday, he told me a fun story about how you used to fling him onto the slip-n-slide to make him go faster. He was laughing and animated as he told the tale.

He’s eight today. This is his third birthday without you; it’s hard to believe it has been so long. We’re going skating tonight, and I wish you could be there, even though you’d make fun of me for lip-syncing and playing air guitar to the 80s songs. I would let you make fun of me just to hear you laugh again.

When you turned eight, I was almost 12, and you grated on my very last nerve. So does he sometimes! LOL! He is your son, indeed. He can be so belligerent and sassy, and yet he can be so completely loving and adorable that it melts my heart.

I love hearing him call me “Mom.” It makes me feel like I’m doing something right. I can never replace you, but I want — more than anything — to honor your memory by raising him to become a godly man who loves the Lord and others. I want to see him channel his feisty behavior and become a man who stands up for what is right, no matter the cost.

*Dang it, it’s hard to type when I’m crying.

I miss you so much, Nathan. It’s been a long time since I sat and cried over you; I guess I needed it right now. I love you, my big-little brother!!