It’s hard to explain what taking photos like this make me feel. It’s a mixture of happy and sad, a lot of inner conflict. It’s hard not to notice that empty arm, the space where Sloan should be. It’s hard not to think about the fact that he loves two children and can only give that love tangibly to one of them now. But I also look at photos like this and know that he is still the amazing father he has always been, and I see that his love for Sloan is still apparent in the way he nurtures Rowan. Sloan may be missing from our arms, but his light is in our every moment with Rowan.
It has been a month since I found him in the crib, already gone. 4 weeks. 30 days. 720 hours. 43,200 minutes.