Dear Jude and Reagan,
I’m sorry. I’m sorry you didn’t find out the joy Christmas morning, finding presents under the tree and homemade doughnuts waiting for you. I’m sorry you didn’t get to have a birthday or a party or even get to try cake. I’m sorry you never got to know the joy of a swing flying you through the air. I’m sorry that you will never know the magic of Disney World. I’m sorry, Jude, that your only concert was a Dave Matthews concert. I’m sorry that neither of you will ever know the joy of going to see a beloved band perform. I’m sorry that you will never hear your dad’s horrible jokes or get to listen to him talk about his love of cars. I’m sorry you never got to take comfort in his laugh. I’m sorry you will never know the excitement and fun of Ducktail Run, or the joy of classic cars. I’m sorry that we never got to dance to the Beatles. I’m sorry that we never got to read Harry Potter together. I’m sorry I never gave you a real nickname, Reagan, because I was scared to lose you like I lost my little Bean. I’m sorry that you will never know a first crush or to love someone like I love your dad. I’m sorry that you’ll never known the warmth of my arms.
But there is one thing you both will always know… and that’s the sound of my heart beating for yours.