I miss you.
I miss having you around, and you being a main part of my life.
You don't know how much I miss you. Really, you don't even know who I am. You don't know that your parents love you, nor do you understand the concept of love. You don't know that I'm your aunt, or what an aunt is. You don't remember my voice. You don't know that I put your pacifier in your mouth at least 500 times in your first month of life outside of the womb. You don't know that I was in the process of perfecting a diaper-change (with tips from your Dad) right when you went back to the land of your birth. You don't know that you're quite possibly the cutest child alive. You don't know that I flew to the other side of the world, just for you.
And you don't know how much I love you.
But I know.
I take it back. I don't know how much I love you. It's too much for my brain to handle. But what I do know is that I love you more than you'll ever imagine, no matter how strange-looking you turn out, or what you choose to believe, or what brand of apple juice ends up being your favorite. I loved you May 20th, I love you today, and I'll love you forever. And if you hate me, you're stuck with me.
Yesterday your Uncle Joe recorded a song for you. If you haven't listened to it, urge your parents to show it to you. You won't regret it. He's a wise boy and you've got much to learn from him, along with the rest of your uncles. If you turn out anything like your Daddy, your uncles, or your Papa, you've done exceptionally well.
Before I go, I just want to say thanks. Thanks for making Summer of 2011 the best summer yet. Thanks for teaching me how to take care of a newborn. Thanks for helping me look forward to being a mom even more. Thanks for crying loud enough when you were born so that I could hear you from the waiting room. And thanks for being the little brother I always wanted, but never had.
I love you. I miss you. And I'm praying for you.