Letter to my brother...

Hello you two,
I was going to call you all day, starting from last night! I've been thinking about you so much, but just wasn't sure what I'd say... Every year I call, and every year I cry, and every year I wonder if my calls were harder on you. I didn't mean to let the day pass without picking up the phone, but I know you're in bed now, so I will resort to this method. I hope you don't mind.
Eight years now. What a different day it would have been for you, celebrating your sweet girl's 18th birthday. I can hardly imagine. But I feel like I can just get a glimpse of what she would've been like -- blonde and beautiful and gracious with her easy laugh and way of making everyone feel special... what a vision.
I make May 6th my sort of New Year in mothering every year. I think about it a lot on Tyler's birthday too, but somehow it comes home more on May 6th -- I reassess what I'm doing with my kids. I try to imagine what I'd do differently if I knew my kids wouldn't live past 10 and 12. And it helps me slow down just a little more and enjoy them more, take more breaks cuddling in the hammock, it gives me just a little more patience letting them tie their own shoes and comb their own hair and buckle their own seatbelts even when we're running late...
You couldn't have known you'd have such a short time with your gorgeous kids. But I can let their lives be an inspiration to me with mine. I can allow their sweet lives to be shining stars in my journey with my children, lighting the path to embracing every moment, finding a way to live with no regrets no matter what the future holds...
I'm grateful for Silka and Tyler's lives and I'm SO grateful for your presence in mine. I hope all the rose bushes I've given you in the last 8 years bloom in profusion this year. I wish you happy memories and sweet joys and hearts filled with gratitude for each other.
I love you,
mary-sue