Dear Ian

Dear Ian,
I miss you sweetie, every minute of every day but I keep putting one foot in front of the other and thinking of you while I walk.

We're (I should say Amy and Dad) are almost done painting your room (let's face it sweet boy, your were an extremely talented artist but couldn't paint a room worth beans - probably because it just wasn't that important to you - and I get that).  We're getting your room ready to hang your art; our own personal art gallery in our home filled with memories of you and your talent.  I'm going to try and clean up that white, thick rug you loved - it's not all white anymore and it's so plush I have no idea how to clean it, but I'll do my best and try to keep the aesthetic you loved.  I found your hanging wood piece you did, so we'll have items hanging from the ceiling as well.  I may even buy some stands to display your small ceramic pieces.  I remember I did this after Alex's cancer too - redecorating stuff.  I told dad it was cheaper than paying a therapist.

It was really hard for me the night before Amy started painting your room.  I laid on your bed for a long time looking around your room - Emmett even joined me; how surprising is that?  So many times, having to do things like taking you off our insurance, notifying Social Security or getting rid of your meds felt like we were trying to erase you from existence, but this time it feels more like transforming what was yours into something that can be enjoyed for a long time to come.  It feels more like preserving your memory rather than erasing you.

We're also having a quilt made with your t-shirts, socks (gotta include those socks!) and some of your friends are making squares for it as well.  Karen, from dad's work, has volunteered to make it for us and we can't wait to see it finished.  I know you weren't much of a quilt guy, but I think you would appreciate the artistry that combines the clothes that you loved and fabric.  You always appreciated different forms of art.

I know you hated all the sadness you would leave behind, but there's no way to fight that sweetie.....there's no way not to be sad because you're gone.  I try not to think about the last week of your life but when my mind goes there, I remind myself how much pain you were in and how long you had fought it and how ready you were to have it end.  I try to think about all the wonderful moments we had the last 16 months of your life - yeah, it would have been better if you hadn't had cancer but the cancer was what brought us closer.  The cancer was the reason we got to spend so much time together; it was the reason why we had all those late night talks, why I got to read your text books to you, why I got to tell you 'I love you' every night, why there were so many hugs exchanged, why I would sit next to your bed holding your hand.  Cancer was a horrible thing but it brought us closer and I have to be thankful for that; for allowing us to see how much we loved each other before we lost you.  I can only be thankful for that.

I love you Ian.

Love Always,
Mom