It's been six years. I still think of you every day. It still hurts. But it always hurts the worst today. On your sister's birthday I can share of how she's grown and changed over the past year. I have no more pictures of you, I have no new memories. I just have this ache in my chest. 

This year, for the first time when I bake your cake, Leyna is going to help. I realized a few days ago that some day I'm going to have to explain who you are, why we have pictures of "Baby Nico" and why we always bake on November 10th. I don't have any idea how to tell her or what to say.

I woke up a little around 4 this morning and I remembered how I was feeling at that time six years ago. I remember crying because I wanted the pain to stop, but didn't want to do what was necessary for it to end. So I fought my body for as long as humanly possible, for hours, keeping you where you were, keeping you with me. But I couldn't keep you forever. 

Your scent on your hat and blanket is long gone, but it's imprinted in my brain and I can almost smell you if I close my eyes and picture you.

I don't have  much to say today, my brain isn't creative or poetic. It's just a swirling mess of memory and hurt. So I will leave you with the words of some lovely authors who were able to capture it perfectly. 

I wanted you more

than you ever will know

so I sent  love to follow

wherever you go.

....

My love is so high, and so wide 

and so deep, it’s always right there, 

even when you’re asleep.

...

You are my angel, my darling,

my star…and my love will find you,

wherever you are.

You are loved.

I'll love you forever, I'll like you for always. As long as I'm living, my baby you'll be.