Dear Henry

I met up with Mom and the guys at the beach.



Here is a picture of all of us at the beach 2 summers ago.



Joe was in Mommy's tummy.

While I was at the beach I dreamt that you were in a coma and then finally died. Why is the beach so darn hard. When I first got there I couldn't seem to get into anything. All I do is think of you. I felt detached from everyone. At one point people were in the other room talking about what time to go to Aunt Abby's beach house and the beach, and I was in the bedroom thinking about you and crying. I want to be with you so badly. Mom thinks I am tired. Really I am just sad.



I am back home now. I'll meet up with Mom and the fellas in St. Michaels next weekend.

Goodnight Good Knight.