Cobwebs in the Nursery

Before Mike and I moved back into our house, I had someone pack away all the baby items in Presley’s nursery and shut the door, like that would somehow make me miss her less. Spoiler alert: it didn’t. The untouched, unused nursery has become a daily reminder of what could have been and all that we’ve lost. Just the other day, Michael noticed cobwebs forming in there, and that small detail just about ripped our hearts out. Today, I want to share something he wrote, a letter to our daughter. An open letter, from a father to the little girl he didn’t get to raise.

Daddy with his Presley girl

Looking back there have been thousands of versions of you that i have imagined. I wish there was more we could do. Its been hard trying to sit and write something without breaking down and crying. Its been a few months since you have been gone but it feels like a lifetime P. They say time passes different in heaven, and if that's true i hope i don't miss a minute of you growing. What will you grow up to be? Will you be rugged and loud like your father or soft and graceful like mommy? I try and daydream about milestones in your life that we would share. Your first lost tooth, first ride on your bike with no training wheel, and the 1 million other memories we would share. I see you in EVERYTHING. When i look at the sky i cant help but throw a hand up to wave at you hoping youll see. If you are watching i hope your proud of your mom and me. It has been so hard to be hopeful about a future without you in it but i know thats not the way youd want me to think. I want to thank you for the impact youve made in just about everyone i know. Everything i do from now until i see you again will be in your honor. Love you P