what you're missing

My love,
I've been trying to not keep score. To not notice the events that have passed. The moments you have missed....But my attemtps have been futile. With every new milestone, with every new experience, I note your absence.
Briar has had two birthdays without his daddy now. How did that happen? TWO birthdays? He is only three. You were here for the day of his birth and his first birthday. It breaks my heart that he won't remember you. We talk about you often to ensure that he grows with a sense of who you are and ,hopefully, reinforces the memories that he DOES have of you.
Yesterday, he started at Farmhands with Liv AND his first set of swimming lessons. He was so proud to show me the 'rocket ship hands' that his instructor had shown him. He rode the pony at Farmhands and grinned the entire time he was atop his stead.
The week before you died, you taught Liv how to ride her bike without training wheels. I am so thankful for this tangible connection she will always have to you. When you died, she balked at getting on her bike without the training wheels for a very long time. Suddenly, she has become confident with her biking skills again and is so enthusiastic to ride for such long periods of time. She'd like to have a 'bike riding party' with her friends.
You became a grandfather last week. It saddens me so that your daughter, Jessie, will never have you grin at her with pride over the little babe she brought into the world and that this little boy will grow up never meeting the silly and loving man that was his grampie. That he won't experience the incessant teasing that you are known for and the comfort of your all-encompassing embrace.
I hope that, in some way, you are out there experiencing all these events with each one of us. Sharing in each joy and staying close to us with each painful experience.
You are so missed and each new happening highlights the void you left. We all love you.